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Authors: Alfred Reynolds

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BOOK: Kiteman of Karanga
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For the next two days Karl and Rika worked nonstop on the second kitewing. They sewed terry leather until their fingers were rubbed raw. Grinding and shaping the terry bone, Karl put the final touches on the joints, while Rika made the loops and straps. At last they were finished. Before them was a kitewing with the same graceful lines of Karl's own Asti, but it looked larger because its smooth, paper-thin leather was completely without decoration. And although it had none of the refinements of his Asti, Karl was confident it would prove to be a sturdy, reliable wing.

"It's beautiful," Rika said.

"Let's hope it flies well," Karl said. "We'll try it out in the morning. Murthdur expects me the day after tomorrow, so it's a good thing it's finished."

Daybreak found them on the ridge overlooking the village. Karl carefully set up the new wing, while Rika set up the Asti. In the cool, still air of the dawn it was far too early to think of soaring, but for gentle glides to test the new wing, conditions were perfect.

Cautiously, Karl started down the side of the slope away from the village. He glided slowly, testing the wing's responses in shallow turns. By the time he had reached the bottom of the ridge, he was confident that he had built a sturdy wing, though the final test would be its performance in a thermal.

When Rika landed behind him, Karl pointed to the next ridge. "Let's work our way east and eat lunch overlooking the desert. I'll start teaching you how to thermal on the way back."

The rest of the morning they traveled east across the ridges between Eftah and the desert, hiking up the western side and then setting the wings up and gliding down the eastern slopes. Each time, Karl tested the new wing a little more. Soon he was making sharp S-turns, while Rika followed in the Asti. By late morning they had reached the top of the last ridge. Ahead of them the desert stretched away toward Karanga. Silently, they stared at it for a long time.

"Look! Terrys," Karl said, and he pointed out a small group of black dots just above the horizon.

"We don't see terrys very often. They must not like our cold mountains," Rika said.

"You'd see them every day in Karanga," Karl said, straining his eyes eastward for some glimpse of his home, but there was nothing, not even the plume of Angastora.

After lunch, they got back into their wings. It was hot at the edge of the desert, and Karl was sure they would find numerous thermals.

"Dont try to climb in a thermal by yourself yet," Karl instructed. "Just follow me. If I turn, try to turn exactly where I turned. When I turn out, come up to my level and turn out too."

With a happy shout, Karl started down the slope and glided swiftly out over the desert. He felt the bumps of lift and turned into the thermal. It was a strong thermal, and he watched the desert floor receding. Rika stayed directly beneath him, and soon they were much higher than the ridge they had left. Karl turned out and headed toward Eftah, looking back frequently to see how Rika was doing.

When Rika came up beside him, Karl banked away and dove at a small, puffy cloud beneath them.
Whoosh!
He was through it. Then he watched as Rika dove the Asti and disappeared into the whiteness. A second later she reappeared with a grin.

As Karl looked for more lift, he spotted a big cumulus ahead and flew toward it. When he reached the cloud, Karl entered the bumpy lift in a steep bank. "Hold on, Rika," he cried. "This will be a rough one."

Higher and higher they circled in the turbulent thermal, coming ever closer to the flat, blue-gray bottom of the huge cloud. They rose higher than many of the surrounding peaks. The air grew cold. When rain began to pelt them, Karl steered away from the cloud toward drier air and sunshine.

Karl and Rika dove and whirled and climbed and glided westward. Finally Karl descended in a steep spiral to the back side of the ridge where they had started that morning. Here they would pack up the wings and walk back to the village. They did not want to announce too loudly that now two of them were flying.

Rika landed close to Karl. Her hair was a tangle of knots, and her face was windburned but happy. "Karl, that was amazing, I can hardly believe how far we went. You've got to teach me more about finding lift."

"You'll know," Karl assured her. "By the time you've followed me around for a while, you'll have a good idea where the lift is."

"I want to know where the lift always is," Rika said.

"You can never know that," Karl said. "Some places are just more likely than others. And sometimes you're going to have to fold your wing and walk."

Once they had their wings wrapped up, they hiked over the ridge toward Eftah. They had passed the crest and were starting down the other side when Karl stopped suddenly.

"Rika, look!" The village was full of Hrithdon riders.

They froze, but were spotted by several of the riders who spurred their mounts up the slope toward them.

"Quick, set up your wing," Karl shouted, and they moved apart to give each other room. When he had finished his wing, Karl ran to help Rika with the Asti.

"Take off toward them. You'll have to fly over their heads, but you can do it. If one of them throws something, veer to the side. Don't go too slow. I'll catch up with you. Now go!"

Strapped into the Asti, Rika ran toward the approaching Hrithdon riders who were now only a hundred yards away. In a half dozen steps Rika was off. Karl watched her progress as he got into the new wing. Rika was over their heads by thirty feet. She was clear! But the riders did not slow down. They were after him.

His legs driving with all their strength, Karl pushed himself down the slope directly toward the onrushing lizard riders. He was airborne, but the new wing could not move as fast as the Asti. He was low, awfully low, coming up over the riders, but he saw no spears. Then, with a roar that seemed to split the ground, one of the lizards lunged upward at him, raking the sky with its claws. Karl felt something catch at his leg. He kicked free, hardly feeling the claws scraping his shins. His wing wobbled perilously. In desperation, Karl dove the wing to keep it flying and then rounded off just a few yards downhill from the lizard that had nearly caught him.

With another roar the lizard turned and gave chase. Pressing his wing almost into the grass, Karl teased every bit of speed out of it he could but the lizard was gaining. Suddenly Karl remembered a small cliff to the right, and he turned toward it. Faster, faster he flew, but the lizard was almost on him. Then he skimmed over the precipice, free. With grim satisfaction he glanced behind to see the rider try to halt his mount—but too late. Rider and lizard went over the cliff and landed in a writhing heap on the rocks below.

Karl spied Rika far ahead. Trading some more of his precious altitude for speed, Karl traversed the slope toward the Asti. When he had caught up to her they were both very low and beneath them the Hrithdon riders were following on their fast mounts. If they didn't find lift this time.... Karl put the thought aside. They
would
find lift.

"Follow me, Rika," he called. "Go exactly where I go."

With a steep turn, Karl banked off toward the broader, more open part of the valley. Karl felt the first bumps of a small thermal. Too small. He passed it up, diving straight through it, then looked back. Rika was still close behind. On they glided, the riders below keeping pace. For a moment he wondered if he and Rika would be able to escape. Then he felt big bumps and turned to stay within the rising column of air, and he watched as Rika too was raised up by staying directly under him.

Higher and higher they rose, while the Hrithdon riders grew smaller below. When Karl turned out of the thermal, he and Rika were well above the surrounding ridges. He headed in the direction of Eftah and, wingtip to wingtip, they glided over the village.

"Karl," Rika shouted. "They've got Athgar."

There was no mistaking the huge, bearded man. Outside Athgar's house, two Hrithdon guardsmen were leading him to a lizard. He was bound hand and foot and then thrown up behind the saddle and tied on like baggage. Karl and Rika circled, watching as the Hrithdon climbed on their mounts and started down the road with Athgar their prisoner.

11. Inside a Rainbow

The Hrithdon will be waiting for us if we go back to the village now," Karl yelled to Rika, who was at his right wingtip. "We've got to go somewhere else. Come on."

Karl and Rika sped eastward. They landed on one of the barren, boulder-strewn ridges they had crossed that morning. Sitting silently on a boulder, they watched a towering cumulus that had grown into a thunderstorm flash and rumble in the distance.

"Don't ever go near one of those clouds," Karl warned. "Its updrafts can suck you into the storm and wreck your wing in the turbulence. And all around are downdrafts strong enough to smash the best flyer into the ground. They're tricky and unpredictable."

"Like the Hrithdon," Rika said.

"Yes, like the Hrithdon. I should have realized that Murthdur would leave a spy to watch for my departure," Karl said gloomily. "When he didn't see me leave yesterday, the spy summoned the guardsmen to take Athgar away."

"Athgar should have realized it too," Rika said. "But now he's their prisoner. We've got to find a way to free him."

"I can do that," Karl said. "I'll fly to Ithdon and give myself up to Murthdur."

"No!" Rika shouted.

"Rika, it's my decision," said Karl. "If I take the blame for not reporting to Murthdur on time, they'll let Athgar go."

"But then you'll have to teach the Hrithdon how to fly, and we'll have no hope of ever defeating them."

"Well, what should we do about Athgar?" Karl said. "We can't just leave him to Murthdur."

"I suggest we rescue Athgar ourselves," Rika said.

"What? You and me against a column of twenty war lizards? We might as well surrender now!"

"Karl, listen," Rika said. "We can follow them and watch from behind the clouds. They probably think we fled to Karanga; they won't be expecting anything. So if we see an opportunity, we dive down and free Athgar. If not, we follow them to Ithdon and try to rescue him there."

"Rika, Athgar has a friend in Ithdon named Zanzu. He told me to find him if I ever needed help," Karl said, remembering Athgar's advice.

"We'll go to him if we can't free Athgar ourselves. It is said that in Ithdon you can buy someone out of the dungeon if you have enough money."

"That won't work," Karl said. "We don't have any money."

"You forget. Grandfather was a wealthy man before the conquest," Rika said with a smile. "His treasure is buried not far from here."

Karl stared at her. "You'd steal your grandfather's money for this?"

"Yes," Rika said shamelessly.

Karl felt a rush of excitement. If the roots of hatred for the Hrithdon ran this deep in Murthdur's city, it might be possible to buy Athgar's freedom. "Let's try it," Karl said with enthusiasm.

Karl and Rika landed on the far side of the ridge overlooking Eftah. There they waited until dusk, when Rika left to dig up Gardo's treasure. Meanwhile, concealed by the growing darkness, Karl glided silently over the village. He strained his eyes and ears for signs of the Hrithdon and sniffed the evening air for any hint of oja. He circled the village once, but detected nothing. Making no more noise than the fluttering of a bat, he circled again, watching, listening, sniffing.

Karl planned his second turn to end just at Gardo's cottage. With a deadened thump Karl landed astride the thatched peak. Quickly he went to the chimney and called into it softly. "Rolf, Gardo, it's Karl. Are there any Hrithdon in the village?"

"No, not now," came Rolf's voice from below.

Leaving his wing balanced between the peak and the chimney, Karl slid down the thatch and a moment later was inside.

"Karl," Rolf cried excitedly, "the Hrithdon took Athgar away. Grandfather went to the village council to see what should be done. Where have you and Rika been?"

"Running from the Hrithdon," Karl said. "They also wanted to take me away."

"That's what Grandfather said. What are you going to do?"

"Rika and I are leaving right away to try to help Athgar. Rolf, you can help me now. Throw some food in a bag and roll up a couple of blankets. Hurry."

Karl climbed to his tiny room under the roof. Quickly he grabbed his hunting kit and spear, and slipped back downstairs. Rolf handed him the food and blankets.

"Good work, Rolf. There isn't time to tell you much more. Don't worry about us. We'll be fine."

Stepping outside, Karl thrust his spear into the low eaves, and with a leap and a pull he catapulted himself onto the roof. He tied everything to his wing, then glided silently and invisibly across the hayfields.

Karl hiked back up the ridge and made his rendezvous with Rika at dawn. She was waiting for him, holding a small leather pouch the size of his fist. When she emptied it, a dozen gemstones sparkled in her hand—rubies, emeralds, a flaming opal, and brilliant white diamonds.

"In the right place, one of these would buy a dread lizard complete with trappings," she said.

"The old miser was rich, wasn't he," Karl said.

"He still is," Rika replied, showing Karl another small pouch filled with coins. "I left several large sacks of gold and silver behind."

Karl nodded. "I'd like to look at the gems when we have more time," he said.

They lashed all their supplies to their kitewings and rested until the sun was high enough to generate lift. Soon they were soaring from cumulus to cumulus, following the broad valley on its way to Ithdon. Karl kept a sharp lookout for the Hrithdon column, but before they could catch up with it, a menacing dark cloud barred their way. It spanned the valley, but looking ahead, they could see sunshine on the other side. Karl was tempted to make a dash under it, but when he thought of Rika's limited experience in a kitewing he decided to be safe and detour around it. Veering away, he began looking for another path but Rika pulled up alongside him. With an emphatic gesture she pointed to the sunshine beyond the dark cloud and nodded, but Karl shook his head furiously. Rika shook her fist back at him.

BOOK: Kiteman of Karanga
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