57

Taking Heart and Hawk

The airplane rocked a lot more than Lottica expected. It was noisier too. She’d thought flying in a small plane, under the wide-open skies would be romantic, but the reality was much less dreamy.

A few thousand feet up in the jittery air, she gazed down on the villages and towns, rivers and lakes, roads and highways, forests and farmlands of Lebreima. They were en route in Heidein's private airplane, a six-seater Cessna with a diving hawk painted on its side. No wonder Grandfather Breima called him Hawk. Heidein was piloting the plane. Nick and her grandparents filled the other seats. Their destination: Mount Breima.

Last night, Lottica hadn't thought she’d be taken seriously when she bolted down to the parlor out-of-breath, claiming she’d spotted a plane that had to be taking their captive parents to Mount Breima. Though in her own mind she was convinced, she hadn’t expected the others to act so quickly.

After detailing what she’d seen through her telescope, Heidein, Weirhamatt and her grandparents held a quick discussion in Lebreiman and then hustled Lottica upstairs and onto the balcony for her to show them. Each in turn had looked out at the constellation of Hawk above the folded hands of Mount Breima.

The plane’s discovery spurred Heidein and Weirhamatt to go check with the authorities about any private aircraft which had not filed a flight plan before taking off.

A little later, Lottica took the opportunity to apologize to her grandmother for not asking permission to wear her sweater or use their balcony. Ladamei smiled kindly, reassuring her, "You are Breima. Headstrong. Is good."

As she they went back to the parlor, Bopei proudly said to her, "Your eyes. Like Hawk’s."

"More important,” Ladamei added, “she has Hawk’s heart."

When she went to bed that night completely drained by intense drama of the day, Lottica fell asleep to her grandparent’s warm words and dreamed strange dreams of flying past stars that whispered to her in soft voices.

Upon awakening, only one voice stayed with her. Her father's. "Take heart,” he had encouraged his daughter. “Take heart."

Sitting next to his sister on the small plane, listening to the hypnotic drone of the engines, Nick struggled not to ask any more questions. He realized, with a bit of shame, that for most of the past twenty-four hours he’d done nothing but ask questions. In the past, he’d always been good about figuring things out on his own. He'd read, listen, observe, experiment and then draw his own conclusions. It'd been a family joke that the only question Nick asked on a regular basis was "When's dinner?"

The problem, now, was he didn't believe most of the answers he was getting. Most of the explanaitons had to do with legends and prophecies with which he had little experience. Even so, during all the events surrounding his parents' “undeath,” he was trying hard to accept things that were beyond the rational. It wasn’t easy to do.

Nick was wired to make logical sense of things. Was heading to Mount Breima a logical thing to be doing because Lottica had a feeling that’s where Beilla had taken them? Even if Lottica was right, did they have a plan? Did they even have weapons? Beilla and Abzeig were armed.

Part of his frustration stemmed from his lack of sleep. He was dead tired. Last night, sleep wouldn’t come. He’d crept downstairs to the parlor. The dim glow from Hawk's eyes casting an eerie, otherworldly pall. He went to the table where the statue rested. “Sorry, Hawk. Your eyes are too creepy this time of night,” he’d whispered and turned the statue's eyes towards the windows.

After turning on the table lamp, Nick stared at the drawings Weirhamatt had brought, arranging and rearranging them. Sounding out the Lebreiman captions failed to yield any clues to him. His tired eyes kept coming back to two drawings. The first, the vibrant copy of the stained glass window in the Breima family library that depicted Hawk alighting with the Kareima upon the prayerful hands of le Breima. The second, the photocopy from the manuscript that depicted the Tireima, the three stones occupying their corners and the two "empty-hearted" figures in the lower right.

Nick tried to coax these two images into revealing some coherent clue to help him understand what Beilla was after. But instead of answers, he found more and more questions. He’d wearily gone back to bed and spent the rest of the night in fitful half dreams of hawks and ravens fighting and clawing one another in mid-air.

The next morning when Heidein and Weirhamatt joined the family at breakfast, Nick had asked expectantly, “What did you find out about Beilla?”

“The authorities helped us confirm an unscheduled take off from a remote airstrip near Krestia last night,” Weirhamatt explained. “No flight plan was filed and radar contact with the plane was lost shortly after take off. The plane is considered stolen and under investigation.”

“What does it mean that they lost contact with the plane? Did it crash?” Lottica asked.

“Not to worry,” Heidein reassured her. “My brother is an experienced pilot. Lebreima has many private airfields, meadows and fields really, that allow for quick access to many villas scattered about the foothills of Mount Breima. They give Beilla many options for hiding your parents. Fortunately, I know that region well, too. It is where we both grew up. I know where to look."

“Why is that?” Nick pressed him.

Looking a bit sheepish, Heidein admitted, "Over the decades, I have also searched for the Astreima. It is the great lost treasure of Lebreima. Our proverbial pot of gold. Our fountain of youth. Our holy grail.”

Nick turned to Weirhamatt. “Have you searched for the Astreima, too?”

“I am the historian,” Weirhamatt answered and then nodded towards Heidein. “He is the mystic.”

“What about you, Bopei and Ladamei?”

“We have Kareima,” Grandfather Breima answered. “Is enough.”

As their aircraft cruised above the autumnal colors of Lebreima, Nick tried to understand the lure of the Astreima. He watched Heidein calmly manning the Cessna’s controls. What was Heidein’s stake in this mess? In solving this riddle of the lifestones.

Nick felt like he must be missing something obvious. But, if it was that obvious, then someone in all these generations of Lebreimans would have seen it and solved the puzzle. Then, again, maybe no one had seen the puzzle displayed in quite the same way he had. He decided it was worth a few more questions.

He took off his seatbelt and moved into the empty seat next to the pilot’s. Heidein acknowledged his presence by pointing ahead and to his right. Nick looked out just as the plane banked and saw the amazing geological formation that was Mount Breima come directly into view beneath him.

As if anticipating Nick's question, Heidein reported, "We will be landing in about thirty minutes near the 'foot' of Mount Breima. In the legends, this is where le Breima entered the underworld on his quest for the Fareima. It is also near where my family would stay when I was a child. Beilla and I would often search among the rocks and cliffs for any caves. We were wild with the idea of finding the entrance to the nether world, of finding the legends to be true. It was a great dream to discover the Astreima."

He glanced at Nick. "But do not worry. I have not gone mad like my brother. It is not important that Lebreima be the center of the universe. My brother does not understand that what we call Lebreima is in our hearts. Not land we can take from our neighbors with greedy hands. Beilla thinks your parents will be his unwilling guides to the Astreima. Even with the Kareima, my brother will never see the truth these gemstones represent."

"But how will we find them?" Nick asked, looking out over all the untracked wilderness beneath them.

Motioning at Nick's feet, Heidein said, "Take out the bag from beneath your seat."

Nick saw one strap protruding and gave a tug. It didn’t budge. He pulled harder and a sturdy little backpack slowly emerged between his feet. "What's in here? This thing weighs a ton."

"More like ten kilos. Open it."

Nick did, and the absurd Lebreiman logic of the object made him smile. In Heidein's backpack rested the statue of Hawk, its Kareima-glazed eyes ablaze.

"Heidein zei, Nick. Hawk knows."