Chapter 17

In the Air Again

So it came about that the four travelers set out once more, now joined by a fifth, Icaria the winged cat, whose curiosity wouldn't let her stay behind. Following the departure of Pyralis, they'd all settled into nests of warm feathers for the night and awakened refreshed and eager to move on. Very early in the morning, Icaria scampered noiselessly about her house fixing breakfast and then meticulously packing up the leftovers for the children to eat later. It was dawn when she closed the door firmly behind her.

Magellan was pawing the ground with scarcely concealed impatience as Ivan climbed up Paracelsus's dorsal ridges and slid onto the equus's back. Behind the boy, in Icaria's neat packages, hung the new tools and the food. Paracelsus had used a spell to pack the bulky gifts into compact saddlebags for Magellan.

Several sets of wings and one near-accident ago, Marianna and Icaria finally agreed that riding on Parcaelsus's back was probably the safest alternative for the girl. So, with a satisfied grin, Marianna plopped herself into her familiar position on the old dragon's back. She wondered how she could have ever found such a seat uncomfortable.

Moments later, the five friends were aloft.

Magellan and Ivan were the first to break through the canopy of leaves and soar into the delicately lit sky. All fears set aside at least for the moment, Ivan breathed deeply and took in the exotic colors of the landscape. What an extraordinary place, he thought before remembering not to think. He found himself cruising higher and higher above an endless shimmering and rolling sea of deep blues. Then, on the far distant horizon, a patch of brilliant green appeared. As equus and boy flew nearer, the sharp boundary between the two colors dispersed. It grew softer and softer until the two oceans of color were mixed and a new one appeared that was both and neither blue nor green. Magellan realized that Ivan was guiding him upward in a broad and graceful spiral. He spread his wings to their fullest and soared into a gentle arc. Below him the canopy was pure green now, the most vibrant and vital of greens. Ivan, too, took in the extraordinary luminosity of the hue. A memory of the park in springtime came to him, and instantly he wanted to go there, to slide into remembering the happy times he spent in that shining, spring-green place with his mother and with Nana. The old man was there, too, sitting on the bench with his bag, smiling, a twinkle in his eye.

Ivan pushed the memory aside. Paracelsus said not to think. But was he thinking? Did the memory count as thinking? Thinking is something you do, he thought, and a memory just comes. Now the spiral was becoming tighter. Catching himself once more, Ivan returned to following his breath. Long, slow, deep breaths; rhythmical, relaxed breaths. The gentle rocking motion created by Magellan's great wings as the two coursed gently through the winds was so soothing that it was easy for Ivan to relax. And soon he was humming softly to himself.

Below, the green was merging into blue again. With Ivan and Magellan in the lead, the little group flew over another vast expanse of shades of blue, and then of green once more, and then one of rich and glowing purples and reds. As they continued their ascent, a pattern began to emerge.

* * *

Marianna, astride the old dragon, was thinking about the gift Pyralis had given her, the ability to understand other languages. Had it begun to work yet? She didn't think so. It occurred to her that it was rather strange from the start that Magellan and the others spoke English. But perhaps they didn't. Yet Ivan could understand the others as well as she could.

"Paracelsus," she leaned to the side of one great curling horn to call to him. His flying whiskers slapped her face gently. "Paracelsus," she called, "what language do you speak?"

"Eh? It's hard to hear you in the wind," the ancient dragon called back to her. "What direction should we take?"

"No, I'm asking what language you speak. Is it English?"

"Yes, east-ish is what I'd say too, because north-ish would take us back to Regnum Magus, and it's cold south-ish. West-ish or east-ish, either one should get us there some while. South-ish would too, you understand, but why be cold when you needn't be? Yes, I would certainly agree that east-ish is best, but I cannot say that's necessarily the way we're headed. Let me take my bearingsÉ" He slowed slightly.

Marianna sighed and decided that now wasn't the best time to talk to Paracelsus. She turned her attention to the scenery.

* * *

Icaria flew alone at the back. Looking down, she observed the pattern in the colors of the canopy as it began to take form. The darkest shades seemed to be lining up. Was Ivan and Magellan's flight path following the meandering pathway they provided? It seemed to be.

Then the implications of that thought struck her. The route to the Promised City was clearly marked! Real excitement grew in Icaria for the first time in many, many whiles. She took a long deep breath and stayed with her thoughts.

This time we've found it for certain, she thought! The glorious end to a long separation! The Promised City! At long last! And I am on my way there! How fortunate I am to be among the first to have found the path to the City! After the break up of the Old Way, its wisdom was treasured by some of those who fled its disharmony. They hid it safely for many, many whiles, passing it on only by word of mouth, with many words left unsaid. Very few had access to the treasured ancient wisdom. It was thought to be too delicate and precious a thing to be exposed to the wars, and the lies, and the suffering that went on as today's relative peace was established. Icaria was one of the carriers of that secret knowledge: it was written in the feathers. The wisdom was passed on to her by her teacher, the much-esteemed featherer and goddess, Aphrodite. The trees also were believed to be carriers.

Now Icaria saw the familiar patterns she watched in the feathers repeated on an enormous scale. And she, Icaria, knew how to read the feathers! She could read the pattern in the canopy!

* * *

What if, Marianna mused, the others weren't speaking English at all and we were all understanding each other using something other than words? How could that be done? Everyone appeared to be speaking and she'd been convinced that it was their words she was understanding. Until now.

It was growing cooler. Soon, delicate mist filled her lungs with every breath.

* * *

Ivan didn't notice the mist as it grew dense. He was in his own world. The made-up song he'd been humming earlier was now playing itself to him and he listened, enchanted. The melody flowed through him and into his hands, which guided Magellan effortlessly. Pure grace filled Magellan; he'd never flown as freely, as flawlessly, as easily. In great wide ascending arcs, boy and equus sailed into the clear golden light above the turquoise, gold and fuchsia clouds.

* * *

Icaria alone felt disoriented by the clouds. Guided by the colors in the canopy, she was certain their course was the correct one, but now, seeing no further ahead than Paracelsus's tail and no further below than her own feet, her confidence faded. Apparently Ivan was not following the path of the colors! Perhaps only she was aware of its significance! Icaria began to fly faster. Because she was so much smaller than the others, it took considerable effort to catch up but the urgency of her mission spurred her on.

"Paracelsus," she called as she glided in next to him, "do you know where we're going?"

Startled at the sudden appearance of the winged cat so near him, Paracelsus answered rather abruptly, "Of course. Naturally. East-ish, I'd say, wouldn't you?"

"No, no, according to the pattern in the trees, I mean. Do you know if we're still on course?"

"The horse? Magellan. Dear me, he wouldn't like hearing you call him a horse, my dear. He's an equus, you know. But no, the matter of a freeze doesn't worry me at all. Now, high winds, that would be of concern. Ivan's intuition could be completely, entirely, thrown by the wind. As to this fog, it shouldn't affect him. No, I trust he'll do fine in the fog."

"You didn't notice the pattern marked in the canopy above the forest, Paracelsus? And you, Marianna? Did you see it?"

But Paracelsus answered, "Know this? How do I know this, Icaria? My sophisticated understanding comes from years of observation and my advanced age, of course. One grows wise with age."

Not to mention a little hard of hearing, thought Marianna. "I didn't see the pattern, Icaria. I'm sorry," she said.

"Oh! Then I am the only one who saw it! And surely, surely, it leads to the City! I must speak to Ivan and Magellan!" With a powerful backward thrust of her wings she moved ahead again.

* * *

Ivan sat in a relaxed and upright posture, holding onto Magellan's flowing silver mane lightly. He was entirely oblivious to his surroundings. He didn't notice the cold fog that surrounded him or the dampness that coated his skin and penetrated his clothes. He was listening to his song, which grew louder and more complex the more he listened.

Magellan, likewise, paid no attention to his surroundings. He was immersed in the feeling of flying so easily, of gliding, of weightlessness. Never in his flying lifeÑand he had flown around the world too often to countÑhad he flown like this. He felt as if his body might well have disappeared, it was so very light. He was one with the air. It occurred to him that he might be invisible, and he turned his head slightly to see if he could see himself. And there he saw Icaria, panting slightly from the struggle to catch up with him.

"Magellan!" Icaria was calling, "We're off the path!"

"What? Off the path? What path?"

"The path to the Promised City, of course!" she exclaimed.

"How can you say that, Icaria? Ivan is the one we're following and he certainly doesn't seem concerned. In fact, he and I are having the most extraordinary flight!" Magellan would gone on happily sharing his experience if Ivan hadn't woken from his reverie and tightened his grip on his mane. "Ooh! That's not right! Now I've lost the rhythm of it!" the equus continued, distressed. "Naturally you have! Look where we are," cried the cat with a degree of impatience. "You've both fallen asleep or into a fog! Your heads are in the clouds!"

Magellan opened his eyes wide and looked around. "My goodness! Yes! It would seem we've lost our way! I, for one, can barely see beyond my hooves! Ivan, are you with us?"

Ivan's hands clenched the hairs of Magellan's mane tightly now. The arc of the equus's flight straightened into a line. Ivan answered tensely, "What? Where are we? What are you talking about, Icaria?"

"You've taken us into this fog, Ivan, and I can't see the path anymore!" replied Icaria.

"What path are you talking about?" Magellan asked again.

"The path on the canopy! It seems impossible that I am the only one who saw it, apparently it is so," said the cat, regaining some of her assurance. Magellan slowed his flight slightly so she didn't have to pump her wings so hard to hard to keep up.

She continued, "As you all know, in addition to building wings, I am a feather-reader. Before we flew into this fog-filled area, I saw in the leaves below us, quite clearly, a pattern, a feather pattern with which I am very familiar, a highly significant pattern." She purred happily. "I was immensely pleased to see that the route Ivan chose for us followed it."

By this time, Paracelsus and Marianna caught up. The three winged creatures flew side-by-side as Icaria went on.

"When I recognized the pattern, I knew instantly that we were finally really and truly on our way to the Promised City. This time, at long last, my old and dear friends Paracelsus and Magellan, and my new young ones, all the signs are in place. I know it in my heart." She flew in a graceful loop around the others. "Hmmmm," murmured Paracelsus, slowing even further and stroking his whiskers with one foot. "Do I hear you saying that your art told you the path was true?"

"My heart, friend," she answered. "And my art."

"Your art and your heart. The proper combination, I would say."