Flight of the Golden Harpy
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Authors: Susan Klaus
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.
To our vanishing wildlife.
To Brad Pitt, who inspired my beautiful and hunted protagonist, Shail, when we were on the movie set of
Ocean’s Eleven.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My children, Christopher and Kari. My sister, Sharon Burns, for her support. Susan Gleason, my literary agent. Bobbie Christmas, my Atlanta editor. Piers Anthony for his pep talk e-mails. And to my harpy-dinner critique girls, Jana Hoefling, Julie Ross, Lynn Ernst, Iris Meyer, Maryann Burchell, Pam Hennessy, and Sue Talkovic, for loving my harpies and insisting I publish the manuscript.
CONTENTS
1
Kari crouched as motionless as a doll beneath the ferns and stared across the lake carpeted with purple lilies to the trisom trees on the opposite shore. The towering trees swayed in the breeze; their branches overloaded with sweet fruit at this time of the year. After an hour of patient waiting, the eleven-year-old brushed her sweaty locks from her forehead and fretted. Her two-mile hike through Dora’s hot jungle had been in vain. Nothing but birds and small-winged mammals had come and feasted on the fruit.
She heard a pair of squabbling kilts, squirrel-type creatures, and lowered her gaze to watch them as they tussled, rolled, and chased each other up and down the vines. So entranced with the kilts, she failed to notice the male harpy who had flown in and landed in the trisom trees. She rose to leave and saw the flutter of his pale yellow wings before he folded them against his back.
She ducked back down and swallowed. “He’s a golden. A real, true golden harpy,” she muttered, watching him. He picked a ball of fruit, leaned his slender, humanoid frame against the white bark, and nibbled.
Her chest pounded with excitement, realizing she gazed at the rarest creature on the planet. Numerous times, she had seen brown-winged harpies, but the blond, yellow-winged species were nearly extinct. Prized by hunters, the goldens were considered the ultimate game animal and slaughtered for their trophy wings. The golden flung the shoulder-length hair from his boyish face and sniffed the air before hopping to another limb, out of view.
Kari dismissed her father’s warnings about dangerous harpies and crawled from her hiding place for a better look. Approaching the lake’s edge, she was so captivated she never noticed the ripples of water created by a stalking mogel. It shot out from the murky depths and latched its mouth around her leg. The giant eel-like beast knocked her down on the muddy bank and dragged her toward its watery domain. She screamed for help, but was too far from home and her father to be heard.
With her free foot, she frantically kicked the beast’s leathery black head and silvery eyes, but the mogel remained undeterred, holding on to its meal. Its sharp fangs clamped down and released their venom. While thrashing in the shallow water she felt a burning pain enter her bite wound. She grabbed a large rock and clung to it, but with the mogel’s strength and steady pull, her hands quickly slipped over the algae-covered stone. Total paralysis from the poison and drowning would soon end her struggle.
Through a haze of tears, she glimpsed a flash of yellow. Like a seabird after bait, the harpy dove toward the lake surface and dropped on the mogel. The startled creature let go of her leg, and she scrambled backward to the shore. From there, she watched the battle: sky creature versus water. Half bird, half mortal, the light weight harpy was pitted against a six-hundred-pound mogel. The harpy wrapped his arms around the wide girth of the mogel’s neck, and throttled the alarmed water monster. The fifteen-foot-long indigo body broke the surface and swirled in a circle, its huge jaws wildly snapping at the elusive harpy that rode its back. The tranquil lake erupted with splashing, and the fight flattened the lilies. The mogel, like a boa that constricts its prey, coiled and heaped layer upon layer of its thick body over the golden, engulfing him within a massive ebony ball. The two adversaries vanished below the surface.
Kari brushed her tears away and stared at the calm lake. Had the harpy drowned? After a minute, the mogel’s head broke the surface. Its mouth gaped and its silver eyes closed. Its whole limp body soon floated on the water with the harpy still maintaining his stranglehold.
The golden unclasped his arms, made a reprimanding hiss into the mogel’s tiny ear, and slipped off its back. Wading waist-deep toward the shallows, he glanced over his wing at the dazed monster and made a sniffling sound. The mogel swished its fanned tail and plunged to the lake’s depths. The harpy stepped from the water and ruffled his wet feathers before walking to Kari.
For the first time, she saw a harpy up close. His sleek frame was tall, nearly six feet, and his bronze muscles shimmered with dripping water. The creamy birdish wings lay tightly folded against his back, and he moved with a graceful tiptoe stride. He bent down alongside her and tossed the wet, glittering locks from his flawless features. Softly panting from the battle, he stared at her with intense royal-blue eyes. Only one word could describe him: beautiful.
The harpy wrinkled his small nose and sniffed her. Animal-like, he lacked the ability to smile or frown, but his large eyes displayed emotion—curiosity at first, but when she cringed with pain from her injury, his eyes narrowed with concern. He picked her up and carried her from the shore. Under the giant blue ferns, he placed her on some velvety moss and examined her wound.
The searing pain shot through her leg, causing her eyes to water. “I must get home,” she cried, and pointed to the wound. “The mogel poison—it will kill me.”
Not understanding her human language, he tilted his head like an inquisitive dog. He stood and spread his wings. With a leap, he became airborne.
“No, come back!” she called, but he disappeared into the trees. Harpies were terrified of people, and she had obviously scared him. She struggled to rise but was too weak as the venom took hold. A feverish sweat now covered her body, her heart raced, and she felt nauseated. The wound stung, and she detected the numbing pain moving up her leg. Her face in her arms, she wept in anguish.
A few minutes later, the golden sailed down and landed beside her. Holding a fine green moss, he smashed and rolled it in his hands, turning it into a gummy paste. He crammed the paste into her punctures, and her pain immediately subsided. He tore off a strip of the sash that hung on his hips and hid his genitals. She recognized the webbed linen that the groff insect wove within caves. He wrapped the material around her leg to hold the paste against her wound.
Kari watched him treat her wound. “Dad is wrong. Harpies aren’t evil monsters.”
He tilted his head again. Her sound apparently puzzled him since harpies were silent creatures, known to be mute.
“You must understand. I have to get home or I’ll die,” she said, attempting to rise.
He clenched his teeth and created a low hiss that conveyed discouragement. He swept her up into his arms. She gasped, unsure of his intentions. With his nose, he nuzzled her cheek like a gentle pony, reassuring her before he bounded toward the sky.
Just above the multicolored tree canopy, he flew west over the logging road, the same road she had traveled to reach the lake. In a short time the harpy landed in the sprawling meadow that surrounded her large home. Still cradling her in his arms, he nuzzled her again and laid her down on the soft grass, but then the dogs barked and men yelled. They had seen the harpy.
The golden released her and stood, facing his enemies. He arched his wings, angrily tossed his long locks, and seethed at the approaching men. The goldens were known for their bold nature and only these blonds had the nerve to stand their ground, but Kari had also noticed his shorter wings and pale yellow color, proving he was not full grown. Now he foolishly challenged armed men—further evidence that he lacked maturity. A laser blast came dangerously close.
“Go,” she pleaded. “Leave before they kill you.”
He glared at the men, his ruffled feathers displaying irritation. A second blast zipped passed his head. He longingly glanced down at her before fleeing into the sky.
Kari struggled to her feet and screamed at one of the men. “Charlie, he saved me. Don’t hurt him.” She collapsed on the ground unconscious.
Kari woke in her bedroom as Maria, the plump Hispanic housekeeper, bent over her and wiped her forehead with a cool towel. “Miss Kari, you gave us quite a scare,” she said, and called to the open doorway, “Mr. Turner, she’s awake.”
Her father came in and sat down on the edge of her bed. “Thank God, you’re okay.”
Kari gazed up at her strapping father and his concerned eyes. Day-old beard stubble told her that he had not taken the time to shave. “The golden harpy,” she said, and tried to sit up. “Charlie didn’t kill him, did he?”
Her father grinned and stroked her head. “No, sweetie. That cocky young male got away, but you need to lie still. Doc just left and said you were very lucky. He recognized the mogel bite and caught the venom in time.”
“A mogel grabbed me at a lake, and the harpy fought it and brought me home. He saved my life, Dad. And he was so handsome and gentle. Promise you’ll protect him. You can do that … just keep the hunters off your estate and he’ll be safe. Please, Dad.”
He forced a weak smile and petted her head, but didn’t answer.
Over the coming days, Kari had numerous arguments with her father over the harpy.
“The harpies aren’t dangerous,” she said. “People kill the poor harpies, and they’re the ones that are evil and dangerous.”
“Look, young lady,” said her father, “you don’t know anything about those flying devils, and furthermore, your days of wandering in the woods and searching for harpies are over. I want you in this house or at school. That’s it. End of discussion.”
She glared at him. “You can’t keep me from him.”
* * *
Ten long years had passed since those events in the jungle and Kari’s encounter with the golden harpy. Now a young woman, she sat aboard a spaceship bound for Dora and recalled those childhood memories. Unfortunately, she had learned that her father could keep her from the harpy. Once her mogel injury had healed, she was placed on a spaceship bound for Earth and its schools.
Arriving on Earth, she found that the trees, animals, and all of nature had long ago disappeared. Nothing remained but vast concrete cities that lay under see-through domes revealing a sunless sky. Her classmates, as inhospitable as the chilly climate and the hard, gray buildings, chastised a girl born of the jungle. They claimed her home was barbaric, that only an idiot would want to dwell on the uncivilized and obscure planet of Dora.
Over the years, Kari became quiet and aloof to avoid criticism. She prayed for the day when she could return to her jungle home and walk beneath the towering fan trees, hear the songbirds, and breathe the fragrant, humid air.