The Price of Flight
I clung to the branch of the tree, staring at the broken rocks below. My pounding heart and sweaty palms contradicted what I told myself. That I was perfectly safe.
Unless my magic failed.
Or I failed my magic.
My cousin Evander tossed a stone at me. “Eliana, are you going to jump, or stay there all night?”
He was right. It had been my idea to test our air magic, to see from what heights we could jump using the magic to cushion our fall. We’d practiced off the garden terraces in my father’s castle, quickly learning how to puff the air just at the right time so we landed as gently from a height twice the height of a man as if it had been a single step.
My breath caught and the blood surged through my ears in a frantic rhythm. I couldn’t back out now. The rough bark of the pine branch dug into my palms. If I didn’t jump soon, I’d draw blood.
I sucked in a breath.
“Eliana, I’m going home now.”
He was doing no such thing, and I knew it. He’d never leave me. But his impatience was clear.
I reached within myself to the place my magic waited, the power longing to used, to be let out to play. It caressed my mind with wispy strokes like a gentle spring breeze. I closed my eyes and jumped.
My hair blew up. Evander’s grinning face grew closer. I shoved the magic down at the ground.
And I landed on the cushion of air that allowed me to land as if I’d simply jumped from my horse.
That part worked perfectly. I must have not focused the magic properly, because Evander lay flat on his back.
I darted to his side. “Are you hurt?”
He opened his dark brown eyes and grinned. “Next time I’ll stand back. You’re quite powerful, you know?”
I didn’t know it, but was beginning to suspect.
He rolled to his feet in a smooth motion. “Let’s do it again.”
That was three years ago. We’d jumped from many heights, treetop and cliffs. Over and over, we led our poor bodyguards a merry chase, giving them the slip when we went riding in the mountains. They usually found us before we had the chance to jump more than once or twice.
We were thoughtless, I know. Hunters roamed the forests, wielding their bows to take down red deer, wildcats or lynx. But leaping from cliffs was the one time we both felt free.
We craved the freedom, knowing our inevitable fate. I was heir to the kingdom of Ymittos. Evander, my second cousin, had lived at the palace since he was four and was destined to marry me and become my consort.
Neither of us objected to the marriage part. We’d loved each other on sight, as children do when they find someone they are comfortable with. As we grew, our friendship matured. We were rivals in our studies and games, best friends in every sense of the word.
And over the past year or so a new dimension crept into our relationship. I couldn’t help noticing the bulging muscles of his shoulders and arms, the dark scruff that appeared on his chin every evening, and the way my fingers tingled every time he touched my hand.
Most princesses were used as political pawns, shipped off to wed a stranger, often a much older man, just to cement a political alliance. I was Rider blessed indeed to not only have a deep friendship with my intended, but to anticipate the joy we’d explore together once we were wed.
Today we stood on one of the cliffs of Mount Tymfi, more than ninety feet above the gorge below. Swirling gray clouds massed to the west, foretelling a storm brewing on the sea. The summer air was thick and sticky. Rain would be a relief.
“I’m not so sure, Eliana.” Evander shook his head. “We’ve never jumped from this high. And remember how angry your father was the last time.”
His fury had been something to behold. As he raged at us for our irresponsible, heedless, thoughtless behavior, I half expected us to send us to the dungeons. He confined us to our rooms for two weeks and demanded we both write an essay on what happens to realms when the heirs are wiped out and the succession is upended.
Writing of civil wars and the resulting famines and chaos was a sobering task. For several months, Evander and I had docilely stayed with our guards when we went out riding.
But we craved that thrill of jumping from great heights, the rush of the air blowing past, the surge of power controlling the air that broke our fall. And the sense that we were making our own rules, not just abiding by the one imposed on us because of who were born to be. We promised ourselves one last jump, the biggest of all. Then we’d settle down and be mature and responsible. That seemed so reasonable to our sixteen-year old selves.
I grinned and took a breath. Knowing I could save myself from any fall had cured me of any fear of heights. If only my terror of dark, enclosed places could be dealt with as easily.
Standing on the edge of the cliff, I watched an eagle soar by, fifty feet below. I let my head fall back and closed my eyes, allowing the summer breeze to lift my unbound hair to twist and tangle as it willed. Spreading my arms back, I inhaled the scents of silver fir and pine, savoring this glorious sense of freedom for one last time.
Without opening my eyes, I said, “I’m ready. Are you?”
He moved closer to me. “Not to jump.” He ran his hand over my head and closed his fingers around my thick braid of dark hair. Gently he tugged me back from the precipice.
“But we agreed…”
Evander tipped his face to look into my eyes. “You looked so beautiful standing there…” His eyes were wide and he stared at me as if he’d never seen me before.
Suddenly my breath was coming fast. My eyes were glued to his.
He touched my cheek gently, his fingers barely brushing my skin. “Eliana.” His face neared mine.
My heart sped up. Was he about to kiss me? That would be breaking a whole different set of rules. Which only added to the appeal.
Evander shuffled a step closer, His eyelids drooped. He tipped his head, and his lips touched mine.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t the heat that surged to my toes, the sense of loss when he stepped back from me and the overwhelming sense of wanting more.
We stood staring at each other for a moment, the wind caressing our faces and hair. If he kissed me again, I’d combust. He took a step toward me.
I put a hand on his chest. “Not so fast. I’ll give you another kiss at the bottom.” I stepped toward the edge of the precipice.
“Eliana, let’s not. I have a bad feeling about this.”
“What, you’re scared?”
“Of course not.”
“Then here I go.” I summoned my magic, allowing it to curl up within me, pulling as much as I could. I looked over my shoulder and looked into his brown eyes. How I loved him. I should tell him sometime. “See you at the bottom.”
I took a running step and sprung off the cliff. My heart raced as if I’d been running.
I tore my gaze from the horizon and cast it to the ground rushing to meet me. I waited one more heartbeat, then pushed the magic out.
My control had gotten better. The manes of our horses we’d left tied to a tree at the bottom barely ruffled in the breeze I created. I pulled the air tighter, and felt its upward motion slow my fall. It cradled me tenderly and I landed on my feel. I was ten feet tall. I was invincible. Giving this up would be the worst sacrifice I’d ever make in my life. But somehow I thought kissing Evander would make up for it.
I stepped back from the cliff and waved. Evander waved back. With a whoop, he dove from the cliff, tumbling once as he fell.
An eagle dropped from above, its flight erratic. An arrow protruded from its side. It crashed into Evander’s face. He flailed to get the scratching claws and wings from him.
A scream burst from my lips. It mingled with Evander’s shouts of pain.
“Use your magic!” I screamed.
The eagle’s wings beat his head. Blood streamed down his arms from the wounds of the eagle’s sword-sharp talons.
Evander was fast approaching the treetops. I pulled at my magic and surged it out. But I was too late. Evander plunged to the ground with a thud and lay still.
An anguished shriek tore from my throat. I raced to him and threw myself to my knees. Streaks of blood marred his cheeks where the eagle had scratched him. His eyes were wide and horrified, staring sightless at the sky.
No. He couldn’t be gone. With a moan, I laid my head on Evander’s chest, silence filling my ears where the thump of his heart should have been. Sobs burst from me, insufficient to express my agony and anguish.
I cried and screamed and wailed until my throat was raw and I had nothing left. I clung to Evander’s cooling body, begging him to come back to me, knowing it was hopeless. My own heedlessness had cost the life of my companion, the only one I would ever love. If only I could have the last hour over. Evander would still be alive.
But it wasn’t to be. I’d never see the flash of his white teeth when he gave me the smile that was just for me. Or see him ride his stallion or spar with the guards. Or hear him sing or laugh or debate our tutors with an impudent wit that hid his sharp mind.
Or feel his lips on mine.
All gone. Because of me. I would lie with him until I died, or something in the forest ate me. It was what I deserved.
We were both cold and stiff when crackling in the underbrush told me someone was approaching. I didn’t care who. Enemy or friend, neither was Evander.
“Highness.” Gentle hands of my guards pried me off Evander’s body. I was too limp and weak to fight them. One of the guards closed Evander’s eyes, muttering a prayer to the Rider of the Ancient Skies. Then he hoisted Evander’s corpse and placed it over the saddle of Evander’s horse.
Strong arms handed me up to a mounted guard who carried me home in front of him, limp and silent, hating the world without Evander.
I’d sacrificed my love for a momentary thrill. I wasn’t worthy of a love like that. Too late I’d learned my lesson. My life would be one of duty and sacrifice. That would be the best I could hope for.
And maybe one day, I’d do something that would take away my guilt. Perhaps track down the unseen archer who shot the eagle. But that, I was afraid, would be as impossible of freeing myself from my shame. Or loving anyone but Evander.