Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

The cawing of Crows echoed in Yuta’s ears simultaneous with the haggard, choking gasps erupting from Andria’s mouth. His heart sank. If the Crows were somehow able to get within close range of him, he would be trapped. They both would; however, Andria’s fragile human lungs would surely fail within minutes at their current altitude, the only altitude which was truly safe from the reach of the winged demons.

They hadn’t bothered him in over a century, by Yuta’s remembrance. He had kept his head low, and the Lords had had no reason to summon him. Yuta hadn’t a clue why, but they had to be targeting Andria, as had Miroshi. The sudden appearance of the Lords’ messengers, minions, and muscle only confirmed these assumptions.

He had no time to muse as to what it was Kazi and the Lords wanted with this run-of-the-mill human. He could feel her already weak grip loosening from around his thumb.
He dived, thanking the gods for the scattered, though sufficient cloud-cover that day. He continued to dive until he was nearly upon a particularly large tuft of grey and white cumulous, then pulled back sharply. This particular cloud was much lower than he would have preferred. The human would likely still have some difficulty with the change in atmosphere, but it was all he would risk until he was sure he had a clear shot of the mountains.

He scanned the landscape. They were directly over the massive lake, over whose waters the Crows still circled, searching in vain for their target. A few had peeled away from the larger group and were alighting near Yuta’s secret chasm. He could make out the outline of the large black hole he had punched through the foliage not far from the crest of the cliff. From what he could see, all nine of the Crows were preoccupied with the territory below the skyline. They were safe where they were. For the time being, at least. Yuta knew that once the Crows started to grow frustrated and begin sweeping the minds of the local wildlife, searching for memories that would reveal Yuta and Andria’s whereabouts, they would have little escape.
            With his mind, Yuta reached out to Yenko, searching for the familiar, strong bond he shared with the tiny, though not-to-be-underestimated Turtle. His thoughts found the tie and latched on hard, sending an urgent signal pulsing to Yenko’s mind. Yuta sensed him respond and began simply, Crows.

I know, responded the Turtle. Nine by my count.

Same.

Are you out of reach?

No.

He felt the Turtle react with mild shock, followed by curiosity and more than timid concern.

I’m with a human, Yuta explained simply. I can’t get out of their range. She can’t handle the altitude.

The Turtle tensed at the information. I understand.

I need you to scatter them.

Yenko responded with a wordless thought of confirmation, and the tie was broken. Yenko would waste no time with his task, especially knowing that he was only summoned for work so urgent when the Dragon was in serious trouble. He was a good and loyal Messenger, but also a respected friend. The Turtle would stop at nothing within his power to see Yuta safe, even if it meant his own demise. It was for this reason that Yuta asked him to intercede so sparingly.

This time, however, it was his only option if he was to see the girl to safety, and safety this day would only truly come once they were behind the guarded walls of his own lair. His lair was high up in the mountains surrounding the lake, though not high enough to cause any more major breathing issues for the fragile human. It was guarded well by a magical secret, and no Crow, beast, Dragon, or human could ever hope to find the entrance so long as he had a mind to keep them out.

Yuta’s wings pounded slowly, silently as he hovered above the clouds. Andria’s breathing was returning to something almost normal. He stole a quick glance down into her face. Her eyes were squeezed shut and dry streaks of tears stained her cheeks. Her hair whipped around her face and his fingers, tossed by the characteristically strong high winds that Yuta was already very accustomed to. Protectively, he cupped his other claw near her head in an effort to give her some relief from the wind’s fury. He didn’t need his hands to fly.

Gazing back down to the activity on the lake, Yuta found that already, the Crows were beginning to scatter, sent far away on some thought or creation of Yenko’s interesting, determined mind. His muscles relaxed, and a breath that he wasn’t aware that he had been holding escaped his lips in a long, relieved sigh.

He waited until the Crows were well out of sight, past the edge of a small village several miles from the lake, then looked back down at Andria and asked, “Are you alright?”
She responded immediately with a frantic nod, still not daring to open her eyes. Her arms were still tightly clenched around his thumb, the rest of her body tensed in his cupped hand. He needed no further confirmation.

He reached out to Yenko again and whispered a grateful thought of thanks to his friend, who made no immediate reply, other than to acknowledge that the thought had been received. He could tell that the turtle was distraught about something, and would most likely want to speak to him later, though not at the time.

The mountain that concealed Yuta’s lair was the tallest in the valley, easily identifiable among the range of relatively low peaks encircling Lake Towada. Even the shortest peak, however, poked well into the stratosphere, the tip cut off from view by a steady blanket of clouds. From Yuta’s perspective at least 3500 feet up, all that was truly visible were the topmost peaks of each mountain, each appearing to be a smaller mountain resting on a flat, smooth, snow-white plain. The breaks in the clouds looked like rivers and lakes themselves, revealing an elusive view of Lake Towada’s waters far beneath. He had seen the view several thousand times over his many years, though he still found it breathtaking. It was beautiful in its own right, untouched by the hands of humans or any other creature, shaped only by the hands of deities, to be enjoyed only by those gifted with flight, the Favored Races. Even humans were able to enjoy it in current days, though, Yuta mused. With planes, humans had been able to defy the natural order. Again.

The sun was beginning to set over the constant line of distant, snow-capped mountains. The sky along the western horizon was kissed with beautiful hues of orange and pink, making the clouds from their perspective glow brilliantly with color that dared to defy the spectrum.

Andria huddled tightly around his protective claws, her eyes glued shut in a forced effort. They were turned so that the wind blew to Yuta’s back, so he removed the hand that he had been shielding her face with. “Open your eyes,” he whispered to her, his voice ringing in her ears like the sweet music of soft violins.

Without thinking, she obeyed. Her eyes were met by the splendor of the Japanese sunset from their perch above the clouds. She was speechless, breathless, though the air was plenty manageable from their current height. She soaked in the brilliant colors matched against a view of the landscape she had only ever seen from the window of an airplane. The effect, however, was dramatically different from where she clung to Yuta in open air, as opposed to the only subtle beauty one found from a limited view on a commercial jet.

The look of sheer, wide-eyed wonder on her face was enough to make Yuta grin with pride. Rarely did he see his humble home admired by human eyes. Never, in fact. It was nice to watch someone react to its beauty for the first time. Yuta had seen it so many times, matched against so many things much more astonishing that the ferocity with which the first glance had gripped him had long since numbed.

She couldn’t bring herself to say anything. What words could be found to add to the beauty of the scene that lay before her? Never had her eyes beheld something so grand, so moving. From where she sat, held in open air by the steady hands of a Dragon, she felt smaller than she had ever remembered feeling. She felt like a speck in the universe, a blurb in the great pattern of the world. That morning, she hadn’t even been aware that creatures like Yuta, like Miroshi, even existed. Now, she felt as though a new world was thrust before her eyes, one in which all the illusions that her life in Tennessee had shielded her under had suddenly been removed.

Yuta allowed her to gaze and think and wonder, enjoying the view himself as the brilliance of the sunset gradually began to fade.

The Crows were long gone, and the first stars of the evening were beginning to shine overhead in the Eastern sky. Yuta shifted Andria’s weight in his hand and began flying slowly towards the highest peak, which he knew as his home. “Where are we going?” asked Andria timidly.

“I’m taking you back to my lair,” the Dragon replied in a calm, matter-of-fact type voice.

Andria tensed. She had been gone for hours. Surely her peers would have noticed her absence. Search parties had to be in place at that point. She cringed to think how her host family would respond to the news that she had disappeared, even for this long. It was possible they had already been notified. “I need to go home,” Andria protested reluctantly. Part of her wanted to stay, to learn more about Yuta and have a real adventure. Already, the day’s events had proven to be the biggest adventure of her life.

“You can’t,” stated Yuta.

“Why not?” Andria insisted. Although she was reluctant, she knew that she absolutely had no choice but to return. Her host family, and eventually her father and stepmother, would be worried sick, and she couldn’t put them through such anguish for the sake of her own selfish desires.

“The Crows,” he said simply. He would explain in fuller detail later, but they were approaching the entrance to his lair.

Andria looked up into the face of an impossibly massive mountain of stone, and they were still only seeing the topmost peak, the view from above the evening cloud cover. They were approaching quickly, skimming along just above the surface of the clouds, nearing the mountain face with every passing instant.

Yuta wasn’t slowing down.

As the mountain loomed closer and closer and Andria’s eyes became wider and wider, Yuta only increased his speed. A scream caught in Andria’s throat. They were going to crash. He was going to crash them into the side of the mountain.

Terrified, she looked up into Yuta’s face. He was smirking, grinning almost. At the last second, Andria released her grip on Yuta’s thumb and threw her hands over her eyes, unwilling to see the impact that would surely be her death.

Right when they were upon the giant wall of intimidating stone, Yuta dove, but only slightly. They were both splashed with a wave of cool precipitation as Yuta submerged them in the clouds immediately surrounding the mountain.