Flight of the Golden Harpy Page 15

  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.”

  “I do understand and know his story that stays in your mind. It scares you and keeps us apart, but I shall tell you the harpy side of your mother’s death. The golden harpy was my father, and he did not come to take your mother, just as I would never force you. Your mother died when stepping in front of the weapon to protect my father. Turner knows the truth of this, yet he lies, as do all humans. They call harpies dangerous and a threat, but it is the humans who are these things.”

  Shail turned away and walked up the path, and Kari detected his anger. Was Shail telling the truth? Had her mother died not fearing, but defending a golden harpy? She realized that faced with the same situation, she would shield Shail with her life. Doubts of her father clouded her mind. Why had he lied?

  “Shail, wait for me,” she called, and hurried to catch up with him.

  He stopped and lowered his head. “Forgive me,” he relayed. “This anger, I do not know. When it comes, I lack control. I did not wish you to choose between your father and me. Turner saw things through his eyes, and I through my father’s. You love us and we you. I learned from other harpies how hard your father looks for you. Do not love him less because of these deaths. I ask only you open your own eyes and judge me. I would rather die than see you harmed.”

  Kari looked up into his profound eyes and placed her arms about his neck. No longer concerned with the consequences, she kissed him. He embraced her, electrified by the kiss. She ran her hand under his sash and massaged him, and he quickly had an erection.

  Shail heaved for breath and quivered, stimulated by her fondling hand. She had caught him off guard, and soon he’d lose all willpower. “No,” he relayed, shaking his head, and pushed her away. She stared at him in confusion. “You start something, Kari, that cannot be stopped. What you feel does not bind a pair. It is betrayal toward your father and guilt toward me. Such a bond brings regret. I shall give you my seed when there is only love.” He started down the path alone, but stopped and glanced back. “Come, Kari. The darkness is soon.”

  She stumbled toward him, speechless. Her noble harpy knew her very soul, and he had humbly courted her until she knew his. There were no more doubts. They were made for one another.

  * * *

  Night had fallen when they reached the cabin. The fledgling dived from a limb and settled in front of Shail. The little harpy shuddered and sniffled excitedly. Shail bent down and grabbed his arms to calm him. Kari watched them silently converse, realizing it was serious. The fledgling nodded and darted off toward the ocean.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “A hunter in a metal bird was here. I must leave this night. The cabin is no longer safe.”

  “A hovercraft?” she said. “Did the hunter see the hidden vehicle? Does he know we’re here?”

  “The answers are unknown, but I must go and not take the risk. For you, the choice comes sooner than wished. Come with me and be my mate. The life I offer can be short and hard, but I promise always to love you or return you to a human life. It is safe and long and may hold a man who shall please you.”

  “No man could ever please me,” she said, putting her arms around him. “I choose you.”

  “I am glad.” He nuzzled her. “I fear my heart could not bear your loss.”

  They went into the cabin, and Kari turned on a light. Glancing around, she saw nothing that the jungle and Shail couldn’t provide.

  “Your human clothes,” he relayed. “Where we go is cold.”

  She slipped out of the dress and put on her pants and shirt. She started toward the door and noticed Doc’s portable communicator on the table. “This is the only thing I’ll bring,” she said, picking it up.

  Shail looked at the thin silver box. “What is it?”

  “It’s a com. I can talk to others who are far away.”

  Shail examined it. “You wish to speak to humans?”

  “Not really, but it might be useful,” she said. “I can ask the old doctor about your wing and when the splint should come off, or if there’s trouble, as a last resort, I could call my father.”

  “Bring it,” Shail relayed. “I distrust it, but I see the value. If I am killed for my wings, it might help you.” Kari placed the com in a small cloth sack, and Shail added a few pieces of fruit. “We shall eat as we go. Before the coming of light, we must be far away.”

  They walked into the dark jungle. “Where are we going?” Kari asked, using her voice.

  “North to the high mountains,” he relayed and turned, putting his fi
ngers to his lips. “You must lose your sound and relate in silence. It is safer.”

  Kari nodded and followed him on his trek north. The journey was slow, and took them through dense brush and up steep terrain. Using her hands, she traversed the rocky cliffs. “When do we rest?” she asked as she reached the top, huffing for breath.

  “With first light,” he answered, negotiating the rugged terrain with little effort.

  “Why don’t we rest now and continue in the morning? The cabin is far away.”

  “Not far for a hovercraft.”

  “You certainly learn human words quickly,” she relayed, and pushed on.

  When the first rays of dawn filtered through the trees, Shail stopped at a mountain stream. He leaned down and drank, waiting for Kari to catch up.

  She ambled up and dropped beside him. “I’m too tired to even drink.”

  “Take rest. We shall stay here and sleep. With the dark, we start again.”

  “Won’t it be easier and faster if we slept at night and traveled during the day?”

  “Maybe easier, but not safer. This is the harpy way.” He then went into the trees and collected bundles of the soft moss, layering them under some ferns. “Sleep here. Soon I shall seek food. The fledgling returns to the islands and tells my harpies where I go.”

  Kari drank some water and crawled into the comfortable nest. Shail stroked her forehead until she fell asleep.

  She woke in the afternoon and found Shail gone. She stood and walked to a mountain ledge. In daylight she stared out at the breathtaking scenery of mountains and valleys. The vast ocean was still visible through the peaks and trees, but a span of many miles lay between her and the water. They had traveled a lot of territory in one night.

  She stripped off her clothes, waded into the stream, and splashed the refreshing water over her. Lying back down on the soft moss nest, she saw Shail. He walked out of the trees carrying two large fruits. He smashed one open against a stone, picked up the pieces, and handed one to her.

  He sighed. “It is harder to get food when you do not fly.”

  She giggled, thinking his frustration was endearing.

  He raised his head and glared. “You find humor that I cannot fly?”

  “Stop being so serious, Shail.” She grinned. “Of course, I don’t think your broken wing is funny, but you’re awfully cute when you’re perturbed.”

  “So my unhappiness causes this funny?”

  “Come here.” She pulled him close. “You’re normally very self-assured. I just find you sexy when you’re a little vulnerable. I do love you.” She leaned forward and kissed him. He attempted to tear himself away, but she clamped her arms around his neck and held on, her nude body against him.

  “Kari, this is not the place or time,” he said, swallowing.

  “We’ve waited long enough.”

  Shail stared into her eyes. “You give yourself to me? You wish we bond?”

  She nodded.

  “Once given, there is no stepping away. A harpy bond is forever. Only death shall end it.”

  “I understand. I want to be yours.” Instinctively, she tilted her head back.

  Kneeling over her, Shail clutched her exposed throat and said the words of the bond. “This female life is mine and my life, hers. As long as I breathe, I vow to protect her and our offspring.” He released his hold, untied his sash, and lowered himself between her legs. He sucked her nipples and rubbed his sex organ against her until she was wet and craved him. He penetrated her and gently began copulation. He wanted the first mating to be tender with his new bride.

  Kari wanted no part of his tame sex and his gentlemanly approach. She had waited too long for the gorgeous male. She wiggled under him and bit his neck, drawing blood to encourage him.

  Stimulated by the bite, he lost control, the animal taking over. He lunged against her and pumped rapidly, his wings fluttering with the breeding. Sensing her climax, he released his seed and collapsed on top of her.

  The deep fathom of stars cleared from her head and she listened to his panting. She stroked his lean muscles, wringing wet with the nervous sweat of a virgin stud. She pushed the blond hair from his face and kissed him. He nuzzled her and slid off to her side, encasing her in his arms. She knew they were both feeling the same thing, an exhilaration and joy beyond words. The love of her life snuggled securely against her, and if they died tomorrow, there would be no regrets of this bond.

  They lay still for some time, until their breathing returned to normal. Kari rose to drink and wash in the stream, and he joined her, but thirst was not on his mind. As she knelt by the stream, he sniffed her, detecting her ripe eggs. Terribly excited, he danced around, tossing his hair, and extending and ruffling his wings.

  Kari loved his flashy performance. His genes were truly part bird. Her mate was courting her in harpy fashion, taking the appearance of a spooning crane. She sniffled, copying his animal gestures of wanting and gave him consent to mount her. He dropped to his knees behind her, firmly embedded himself, and stroked rapidly to inseminate her egg. Recently depleted, he struggled with a second release. He lunged and nipped at her neck, and with each thrust, he flapped and beat his wings against the hard ground. After several minutes, he ejaculated.

  Shail crawled, out of breath, into the stream and relaxed in the cool water. She joined him, kissing and nuzzling his neck. He was too drained to respond. She left the water and went back to the fruit. Under the ferns, she ate, and he climbed from the water. He ruffled his wet feathers, found a flat stone, curled up in the sun and napped.

  Kari chewed on the sweet orange fruit and figured her drained mate was done. She reclined on the moss, but didn’t realize that unlike a man, Shail was an animal, capable of breeding every fifteen minutes for days.

  He rested briefly and returned to her. His hard erection displayed his intention. She happily obliged him, licking and caressing him. Gone was the fondling and kisses, and it was straight sex. She couldn’t seem to get enough of his stunning body. She began to comprehend that as long as she consented, he would perform until he dropped. Thus was the beginning of the mating marathon, common for the newly paired.

  Rather than travel, they bonded through the night. Shail paced himself, mounting her every half hour. In between, he caught quick naps to regenerate his seed and stamina. The initial pleasure was gone, and it was hard work, his goal to impregnate her, and produce his offspring.

  Kari didn’t mind his vigorous effort. She’d dozed through the night, awakened by his gentle nuzzle for permission. Lying on her stomach, she gave him the go-ahead by moving her legs. He penetrated her, thrust briefly, discharged his seed and withdrew before she was fully awake.

  The copulation continued the following day and night. Kari understood why Shail had said it was not the time or place for the bond. Despite the threat of a looming hunter, he pressed on with the mating without food and little water. He was a fresh stud and no danger would drive him from a willing female.

  By the third morning, he was totally exhausted, and Kari had her fill. With his nuzzle, she told him to go away. Almost with relief he curled up alone in the nest and slept all morning.

  Kari dressed and sat by the stream, nibbling on the remaining fruit. Shail woke and stretched before joining her. After drinking, he glanced up at her, and she gave him a strange smile.

  His eyes lit up. “A fledgling grows.” He leaned over and kissed her.

  “How do you know that?” she asked.

  “I can sense you, and a harpy knows such things.”

  “Are you telling me your animal senses are so good, you know when I’m pregnant?”

  “Not mine, but yours,” he relayed. “A male would not know, but a female harpy would sense when my seed entered your egg.”

  “Maybe that’s true, but I’m no harpy.”

  Shail’s features filled with shock. “But you are.”

  Kari nervously laughed. “Shail, I’m no more harpy than my father.”

  Sh
ail pushed down the lump in his throat and gently took her hands. “True, your father is no harpy, but your mother was. I thought you knew.”

  Kari jerked free and stood. She stared down at her lean, blond husband and noticed they did look similar. She breathed hard, realizing their behavior and nature was the same. Like him, she slept curled up, ate a vegetarian diet, loved the jungle, and hated confinement. She stumbled away and gazed out at the mountains. She now understood why she had suffered from severe depression on Earth and had never been attracted to men. Her whole life she was drawn to the harpies and had undying love for Shail. Everything began to make sense. She recalled Doc’s blood transfusion that saved Shail’s life. Shail had received her harpy blood. She thought of her ability to communicate with harpies. They understood her, and she them. The truth and realization sank in.

  Shail lowered his head and meekly approached her.

  “Why didn’t anyone tell me, Shail?” she asked.

  He put his arms around her. “If your mother had lived, she would have revealed the truth and told you we were marked to bond. I thought your long time among the stars and men caused your doubt of us. I now know all truths were kept from you, creating the confusion.”

  She wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, God, Shail, I have been so confused. I love you, but didn’t understand why.” They hugged for some time. Kari pulled back and stared at him, seeking long wanted answers. “So I could have chosen a man, like my mother did?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Because of the hunting, there are more female harpies than males. Some take honorable men as mates. But a male only bonds with female harpies, and never a woman. Female humans cannot bare our fledglings. Our females lack wings and look like women. They have learned to hide among them in the cities. When a male and female harpy chose to bond, it can appear the male is stealing a woman. This confusion among humans has brought much death to our flock. If a male is killed and his female mate is recovered by the humans, she, too, can die of grief. The harpies are again blamed for her death.”