'Amazing.' I said, watching its body camouflaging into the grey stone. 'A flying horse.'
'A Weather-Maker,' said Kat, sharing awe as the mammal lowered its head to sleep.
'Take this,' he said, suddenly pressing the flute to my face.
'I can't play that thing,' I whispered, manoeuvring it away. 'Besides, Bludgeon gave it to you. He wanted you to play it.'
'You do not play this instrument,' he informed; 'you blow — the flute does the rest.'
Still hesitant, I passed Kat the 'why not you?' expression. The samurai replied immediately, and most sincerely. 'I play only instruments of death.'
Snow blew like a sneeze from my mouth as I giggled. I couldn't help it. The comment was so ridiculous, so silly, and yet so like Kat. Relinquishing, I snatched the flute from his hand and held it like a cheap bread-stick. I'd never played an instrument before, not even the tambourine, but if it was only a matter of blowing down the end then there shouldn't be a problem. I put it to my lips but stalled as the grin returned to my face.
'What?' asked Kat, vexed.
I shook my head, 'Instruments of death? Who says that?'
I did not think Kat's frown could melt any lower. I was wrong. 'Blow!' he ordered. 'Do not waste time.'
Rolling my eyes, I wet my lips and placed the flute to my mouth. My expression lightened as sound escaped the end with my first exhale — a pleasant whistle that soon became something remarkable. The flute came alive, playing an idyllic poem, a soulful song that swooned out from this simple piece of wood. The music appeared to hit Atlas like a hunter's spear, waking her with a starting grunt. This tune didn't just touch the animal's heart, but Kat's too. Throughout his long life his ears had never heard the like, and laying on his side, he permitted the sound of peace to flow into his warrior system; he even removed his focus from Atlas to watch me play. Somehow, it was important for his spirit to hear this choir over the mountaintops, the cosmic chemistry of God curving the very air before us.
Aching from a position held too long, I crouched up on wobbly knees then blew harder down the flute. Gesticulating, I attempted to catch Kat's attention, but the man appeared to be lost in hypnosis. I stumbled forward, and when the instrument left my lips, that mystical sound was stubbed out like the screech of an old record player.
'Play!' Kat demanded, angrily. 'Play!'
'Can't.' I mumbled. 'Don't you see?'
Frowning again, Kat regained himself, only to realize he had lost the Weather-Maker's position. 'Kat,' I whispered, stiff as a board. 'It's… in… front… of… my…'
There came a deep snort, followed by a long tongue smearing up my face. Kat recoiled and I shut my eyes tight, allowing the horse to slurp over me as long as it wanted. 'What… do… I… do?' I squirmed.
'Seize her!' Kat bellowed, startling me and the shy horse. The Weather-Maker, bashing the powder from her hoofs, ducked her snout between my legs then threw me onto her back. Kat lunged for the horse but not fast enough. The animal kicked off from the surface with her passenger on top, out of reach and into the sky.
'Fox!' cried Kat, as the horse stretched out her wings. Atlas soared, and my voice broke as I screamed and flapped my arms for grip. Then, without any warning, the horse returned in a dive toward Kat, before swooping up then darting in and out of clouds. The flute felt frozen in the skin of my palm, but still I managed to wrap my arms and legs around the horse’s ribs.
'Kaaaaaaaaat!'
The samurai fell to his back and discovered something else inside him: long dormant laugher, and once his chuckle was out, there was no holding back — a giggle turned to a howl, and a howl to an uncontrollable fit of hysterics.
'Do something Kaaaaaaat!'
My cries for help only tickled his funny bone further. His hand pointed and mocked me, and his scarred face turned a ripe red. Swirling land below bought the vomit to my throat. Atlas seemed to have the wind locked in her immense wings, and her skin changed pigment from sky blue to cloudy grey, to sky blue again at the flick of a background switch.
It was not until Atlas came to a steady halt in-flight when I could at last get my bearings. I fixed my position on her back and grabbed two steady clumps of her hair.
'Whoa girl, steady! Steady now!' Not scared of heights, I was simply amazed to see how high I was — the last six days and nights were spread underneath me. 'I think I've got control!' I yelled to a samurai I could no longer see. 'I think I —
Atlas kicked herself into top-gear and took me for another white-knuckled whirlwind over the Macros. Faster than before, she was a galloping soar up, followed by a butterfly-inducing drop down. She made a hair-raising loop and I held on tighter as she returned horizontal. My heels dug in however, stomach churning, but I would not budge. I got the impression that the horse didn't want me tossed from her back, but that maybe she was testing me. Was I worthy of such a gift?
Atlas' ear twitched and I gave it a good scratch. The horse grunted satisfied and the flight took on a sudden change. I was no longer being flown — but flying. Atlas put me behind her wheel, and this Weather-Maker was all mine. I aimed her head up and she hurriedly galloped like a star toward the sun. I aimed down again and she obeyed. I let out jubilant cries, childlike wows and watch me Kat, watch me!
Unfortunately — things in the Distinct Earth are never this good for long, and that happy time came to a shattering end. A surge of heat hit me full in the chest, like a boiling heart attack. Spasms followed — body shutting down — darkness.
I woke… face down on one of the Macro peaks, a floppy arm hanging off a sheer edge to nowhere. On my other side was a descending slope littered with green Christmas trees. Kat was at the bottom of this frosty slope, barely a silhouette, but I could still make out his two swords catching the sunlight.
Dazed, I squeezed the bridge of my nose to clear the headache. I then groaned in pain as a hand pulled on my hair, forcing me to my knees. The Wizard looked no different from that day in the woods — old face with the flesh stretched over skeleton, his two grey beards growing out from the chin. 'Where is my head?' he asked, his craggy voice somehow amplified over the peaks. 'Where is my head samurai? I have waited… and waited… and
I shrieked as Scarfell tore out a clump of my hair. Staunchly on his spot and hip deep in snow, Kat showed the wizard, not the head of a centaur as instructed, as agreed — but the blades of his swords.
'Is that all you have for me?' said Scarfell. 'Is that all?'
Kat started after us while I dabbed at the bald patch in my hair. 'He's no head for you wizard,' I said, bravely or stupidly. 'He's not an assassin!'
Scarfell lowered his wrinkled face to meet mine. 'Are you still here?' he said, suddenly placing his open palm full over my face. No magical ray of light came from his hand, only that same burning sensation I experienced on the back of Atlas, this time located entirely inside my skull. My body convulsed against it, my sight blackened but I did not pass out — I was fully aware of my surroundings, and of this slow and excruciating death.
'Not long for you,' he said. 'Now, to fix this samurai. Two simple ingredients: a slope… and its snow.'
Scarfell lowered a free hand to the snow near his foot; then pressed his palm flat over it. The snow there began to rumble, trembling the peak I lay on. It shook like my own convulsing body, snapping cracks over the slope and sending great layers sliding from the peak. These snow slabs overlapped and rolled, triggering a gathering mass that collected in no time to form the white breath of a dragon: An avalanche.
In less than ten seconds, this became a runaway force, a thirty-foot tsunami of air and ice stretching half a mile in width and accelerating up to 150mph. As it bore down on Kat, I held a frazzling eye on this powdery monster, my mouth foaming at the corners. Burial imminent, death inevitable, the samurai stopped. This was not an illusion like the condor or some see through magic trick — this was a real and overwhelming killer like none he had faced before, one he had no hope of defeating.
Moments from being flattened, the stubborn problem solver came up with a solution. With swords swinging, Kat waded for the nearest tall tree. There, he removed his belt and threw that length of leather around the trunk. Breathlessly working, he wrapped the ends of the tree-hugging belt several times around his wrists, drove both swords into the bark, then held his breath as the bomb hit.
Throughout this scene, Scarfell's hand inadvertently moved from my face as he watched his avalanche with pride. The fire in my head ceased slightly, and temporarily released from my coma, I showed the wizard why I was
