Flight of the Golden Harpy (18 page)

John sat at the table and watched Charlie leave the room. “Damn Indian,” he grumbled under his breath. “This is partly his fault. He and Dad dragged Kari through the jungle as soon as she could walk, made her wild as hell.” He stood, poured another glass of wine, and wandered in the silent big house. Walking into his den, he set the glass on the desk and slumped in the chair. He glanced at a bottom drawer. It held a rarely seen picture that brought tremendous grief. He took another sip of wine and took it out. Staring at the beautiful woman in the photo, his eyes watered. “I’m so sorry.”

*   *   *

At dawn, Charlie walked into the empty kitchen, knowing John wanted an early start. He strolled through the house and found John in the den. The large, forty-year-old man slept slumped over the desk, his hand resting on a picture of his dead wife. “Oh, John,” he whispered. “Will you ever find peace?” Charlie put his hand on John’s shoulder and gently shook him awake. “John, it’s morning.”

John stirred and sat up. “Must’ve drank too much last night. Is Maria here?”

“No. She goes to the funerals of those young people this morning.”

“Ah, I forgot,” John said, rising from the chair.

“About last night—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” John said. “Look, I know I’ve got anger issues, and I’m used to getting my way. If we find them, I’ll try and keep an open mind about the harpy, but I gotta keep looking. Hunters are flocking here, ever since the word got out about that young golden. He’s no longer a myth. Plus his broken wing makes him easier to track and kill. Westend’s inn is booked, and you know their type. Some are animals. God knows what they might do if they find Kari.”

John walked out of the den. “So there’s no way I’ll end the search and sit here. I can’t keep hunters off the estate, so I’m considering a reward for the safe return of my daughter. If someone stumbles across her and the harpy, he’ll consider the money and stop and think. It might protect her.”

“Or a reward might bring more hunters,” Charlie said.

“With or without my reward, they’re coming for that golden.”

“What are you going to do about the swarms?” Charlie asked as they entered the kitchen.

“Been too worried to think about them, but I guess I’d better,” John said, pulling a coffee out of a machine and taking a sip, “I ordered in the timber crews. In essence business is totally shut down. The next step would be to reinforce the mill with metal sheets and stock a supply of food and water there in case of a swarm strike. Why don’t you stay here and organize it? I know your heart’s not in this search for Kari.”

“I’m also worried about her, but I want her happy. She did not tell you how she suffered on Earth.”

“It was bad?” John asked.

Charlie nodded.

John rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess she suffered for nothing. She ended up with him. Every time I think of that feathered bastard crawling on my girl…” He bit his lip. “I’m going.”

John left the house, and Charlie watched his hovercraft disappear over the first hill. “I hope he doesn’t find them,” he muttered. Climbing in his terrain vehicle, he drove to the mill.

10

The night calls gave way to the chirp of birds, and Shail intuitively stirred. Sniffing the air, he detected the fledgling’s scent and glanced over Kari’s slumbering body. At the door a growing pile of fruit lay in the threshold. Careful not to wake her, he pulled his bottom wing out. He stood, flinched from his aching ribs, and walked out of the cabin. In the clearing, he ruffled his wings and glanced toward the trail where Kari had retrieved water. Dried blood still stained his feathers and hair, and he felt sticky, stinking of the medication. He walked down the path and came upon the stream. He untied his old sash and climbed under the waterfall. For the first time in a week, he began to feel like his old self. The rib pain was an annoyance, but it no longer hampered his movement.

As the water tumbled over him, he glanced at his wounds and thought of the old man that Kari called Doc. The man’s kindness had saved his life and left Shail puzzled. How many men were there who meant him no harm? After his wings and body were clean, he stepped from the waterfall. Vigorously shaking the droplets off, he reclined on a rock and pruned the individual flight feathers. With his fingers and mouth, he forced the protective oils down the quill, making the feather whole. He tied the stained sash around his hips and returned to the clearing.

Shail sniffled, and the excited fledgling sailed down from a branch, awkwardly landing. The eight-season youngster dropped to his knees and waited.

“Find a cave maker and bring me new cloth,” Shail relayed. The fledgling scrambled to his feet and was airborne.

Shail peeked in the cabin and saw Kari still slept. He shuddered at the doorway before lightly stepping inside, determined to be rid of his harpy fears. Facing his death at the hands of the hunters had given him more courage, and he recalled his father’s words, instilled in him when very young. “A golden is not born, he is made. Every challenge faced and survived makes one stronger.” Shail had finally learned the truth of his father’s words and looked up at the oppressive cabin ceiling for the last time.

He picked up a piece of fruit and plopped down on the floor near the bed. He chewed and watched her sleep, longing to touch, but refrained. It might cause fright. Patience, he thought. I must learn patience. She will come when ready.

Kari opened her eyes, and Shail handed her breakfast. “Thank you, Shail,” she said. Before taking the fruit, she ran her hand through his long, wet hair. “You’ve been busy this morning. I’m glad you feel better.”

They nibbled while their eyes were fixated on one another. After eating a few pieces, she rose and gathered his medication. “It’s time for your treatment.”

Shail leaped to his feet and hissed. He had washed and finally rid himself of the smell.

“Stop. I know you don’t like it, but the medicine is healing you.” Conveying aversion, he stood with a raised head, but endured the treatment. “I need to wash this,” she said, and pulled on his stained sash.

This was all the domestication Shail could tolerate. He tugged back, shaking his hair, and retreated outside.

“Come back in here! You need to lie down, and I want to wash your sash,” she said. He gave her an indignant glance and walked toward the ocean.

“I rule all harpies.” He huffed and kicked a flower on the path. “Yet she treats me like a lame human pet.”

*   *   *

Kari ran after the lanky harpy with an apparently bruised ego. She began to fathom that Shail’s personality was complex. Initially, his body language displayed his devotion and fears, but she now saw his pride, which could be wounded, and a stubbornness matching hers. Her perception of him was changing. He was not a wounded jungle creature requiring her care, but a person with deep feelings and emotions.

Kari found him standing on a cliff and gazing out at the ocean. “I didn’t mean to push you around.” She rubbed his shoulder. “You can keep your old sash.”

Shail lowered his head and nuzzled her neck, but quickly withdrew. He walked down the animal path toward the water, and she trailed along. Near the dunes, he stopped and watched several hand-size insects in search of smaller prey, gliding in and out of the stick weeds. He held up his hand and one of the purple insects lit on his finger. He brought it to Kari’s face for a closer look.

She smiled. “It’s beautiful.”

He moved his finger, and the insect took flight. He turned his head toward his bandaged wing, his concerned eyes questioning.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “You’ll fly again. It just takes time.”

They strolled along the seashore hand in hand, taking pleasure in one another’s company, bringing an end to the decade of yearning. Kari watched his tiptoed stride with concern.

Shail slightly shook his head at her. “The pain goes. I need not rest,” he relayed into her fretful mind.

In late afternoon they returned to the cabin. As Kari approached the door, the fledgling soared down and settled near her feet. Startled, she jumped back. She glanced up at Shail’s gleaming eyes. Like an animal, his eyes, not his lips, betrayed his mind-set. “I’m glad you think it’s funny,” she griped. “He surprised me.”

Shail took the new sash from the fledgling’s hand and his nod sent the young harpy back to the trees. Untying the old sash, he dropped it, exposing his sex organs that were sheathed under straight blond hair.

“Modesty is obviously not a problem,” she said as he placed the clean sash around his hips. “Why bother to wear it?”

Shail held a corner of the sash. “This tells I am no less,” he relayed.

“No less than a man?” she asked.

He nodded.

She now understood the meaning of the sash. Unlike humans who used clothing to hide the embarrassment of their nude bodies, the harpies wore a sash to symbolize equality and prove they weren’t animals. Without hesitation, he confidently stepped into the cabin.

Toward evening, Kari slipped into a torn sheet fashioned as a dress and washed her dirty clothes in the sink. Shail relaxed on the bed, ate fruit, and watched her. Hanging her clothes over chairs to dry, she joined him as darkness came. He curled his body around her and extended his wing as cover. In the flimsy dress, she snuggled her back up against him and unwittingly stimulated him. He breathed heavy and shuddered. Then moved several inches away from the temptation and pitifully buried his face in a pillow. She glanced over her shoulder, realizing he had become aroused, but controlled his urges. She smiled, respecting him more. He was keeping his promise. There would be no bond unless she consented.

*   *   *

The days began blending together. The pair rose at dawn, ate fruit in the cabin, and went to the stream to bathe. Under the tumbling waterfall, Shail battled his sexual cravings, while she washed nearby in the nude. The gushing water flowed down her long blond hair and dripped from her breasts onto her slender frame. Never had he felt such commitment to one individual. She was his sunrise, the air he breathed, the water that quenched his thirst. She was his future. The torture, not to touch, was unbearable, and he’d retreat from her and the waterfall and sought the consoling trees.

Kari felt equally miserable. She longed to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss the tall, gorgeous male, remembering his slow, seductive kiss, but with one kiss, she could ignite an inextinguishable flame in both of them. Her fears of the unknown had created an invisible wall between her and Shail, and only she could bring the wall down, but his standoffishness and patient approach were wearing her down. Every day she loved him more.

After the waterfall, they set out for a day of exploring. Kari shed her heavy khaki pants and shirt for a short, cool dress made from sheets. Exposed to the sun, her skin became golden tan and her hair lightened, matching his. They drank stream water and returned to the cabin only for sleep. Like two wild creatures of the jungle, they wandered through the wilderness. She had never felt such happiness, following a handsome harpy through the trees. Instead of taming him, she was changing. Her human world slipped farther away with the passing of each day.

Shail’s wounds healed, and he no longer needed medication. His only concern was the broken wing. As Kari talked to him, he picked up the English language, and instead of answering her subconscious with a thought, he related using her words. To understand human speech could be valuable knowledge for a ruler.

Kari, too, worked on her telepathy. Giving up her noisy talk, she started communicating with him in silence. A process of learning from one another began.

Shail no longer shied away from human objects, but studied and handled them in the cabin, eager for her explanation of their purpose. Kari, on the other hand, hungered for knowledge of his jungle. Her grandfather and Charlie had taught her the dangers, but it was Shail who showed her its beauty and mysteries. Every day she woke excited to take part in a new adventure. She was amazed that animals, terrified of men, would walk up to Shail. They had no fear of a harpy. At his beckoning, small birds lit on his wings and hand.

*   *   *

One day they traveled deep into the trees, and Kari stopped to rest on a log. With Shail’s long stride, he was farther up the path. She heard a low seething sound and crunching leaves. She slowly rose as the head of a giant carnivorous lizard appeared, awakened by her scent. She froze, the blue reptile one leap away, and called silently to Shail.

In seconds, he emerged from the heavy brush and calmly moved to her side. The reptile’s long forked tongue flicked toward them. “It’s going to attack,” she whispered.

“No,” he relayed. “Look at her gut. She has just fed and is only curious, but her tongue senses and smells your fear, as I have. You made yourself a target.” Shail extended his hand so the lizard could taste him, and then he hissed and leaped toward the reptile.

The startled lizard retreated from the smaller harpy. Fearing it had become prey, it darted into the woods.

Shail turned and held Kari’s hands. “You must conquer your fears of the jungle just as I conquer mine of your human world.”

She glanced up at him. “Don’t become too brave, Shail. Men nearly killed you and would do it again.”

“I know the difference between caution and fear,” he relayed. “I keep the caution.”

Kari nodded and sat back down on the log.

Shail pointed to some orange mushrooms growing on the base of a tree. “These are good. They heal pain, but only a small one should you eat.”

She smiled and watched him pick a few mushrooms. He’s so intelligent, so honorable and gentle, she thought, realizing she had initially admired him for his flawless looks and wild nature. If only the people knew him as I do. They and my father would not hate the harpies.

Shail stood and faced her. “Your father knows me as do others. It does not stop the hate.”

Kari was surprised he had heard her thoughts. “You don’t understand. The reason my father hates the harpies, and most of all, you,” she said. “A golden harpy tried to take my mother. She died when my father tried to stop the kidnapping.”