Cristoforo nodded. “As far as I have ever heard, Shaman develop their abilities as young children, before the laws of reality that most humans live by are too firmly rooted in their minds. It is the ‘naive’ belief children hold of fairies and mystical things that make them the perfect recipients of these gifts. They do more than desire to believe—their whole hearts can believe it.”
“But I’ve seen you fly. I know it’s real. I know that what I’ve always thought was wrong. People can fly.” Leo repeated it as though he had to convince us of what he saw.
“You believe that now, but what if you left here and were pushed from a cliff?” Alessio asked, folding his arms. “You may feel that one night of seeing us fly could rewrite nearly two decades of beliefs, but when facing it, your instincts will rely upon all they’ve ever known. You wouldn’t trust the earth enough for you to actually be able to soar.”
“It’s not as though I would be trying to fly tonight.” Leo stood his ground, pleading. “I could build up to it if I tried every day, then eventually…” He tried to lock eyes with us one by one but only Cristoforo would meet his gaze. “You have never heard of anyone, even in the old tales, learning the earth’s abilities when they are grown?”
“No, I have not.” Cristoforo looked at him squarely, but then smiled. “Yet. Not yet.” Leo lifted his chin again, the hope in Cristoforo’s voice captured in his eyes like the light of a flame passed from candle to candle. “Leonardo, my gift now is healing. However, I have developed that secondarily. The first ability that the earth gave me was to look into others. When I healed this lovely young lady just now, I could see the bones and muscles, see the breaks, see where each tiny fracture needed to be placed again. This gift sees much more than the physical, though. I can see, to a degree, what an individual’s soul contains. In you, Leonardo, there is unquestionable greatness, the likes of which I have never seen radiate from a person’s soul so strongly. You have the potential to influence countless lives. I do not know in what manner that potential will unfold, but perhaps—it could be—that if anyone I’ve met could do it . . .”
“I can do it.” Leonardo’s voice was firm, and I tilted my head to look at him. I’ve heard him say that before, many times, and he had never been proven wrong yet. He was so far from childhood that he kept a beard neatly trimmed—still, this was no ordinary person. If I knew anything, I knew that.
“Please.” He turned to me and Alessio, his hands ever so slightly shaking. “I need your help.”
Slowly, at the pace of morning breaking, I nodded. Now that Cristoforo had said it to us, I could see it too. Of course I could. The rare greatness in Leo, I had always known to be there, but had become accustomed to it, like the fragrance of home. Once Cristoforo made me aware of it again, I could see that it changed everything.
Yes. If there was anyone who could do it, anyone I could believe in, it would be him.
I looked at Alessio and saw him shake his head, but he was smiling. He could see it too. Surprising all of us, he began to laugh. It caught fire in the room, spreading to each of us and leaving us warm and hopeful. Alessio walked to Leo and clasped him on the shoulder. I just looked at the two young men, grinning like children, and felt as if my heart would explode. How I love them both. “We best get you home. You will need your rest. Tomorrow, we start!”
Leo’s face brimmed with gratitude, and even my own eyes filled, turning the lights in the room into stars. How long had I wanted this for him? Why hadn’t I tried sooner?
“Tomorrow, yes. Tomorrow is the beginning.” Leo's voice was soft, as though he could hardly believe he was saying those words out loud. “I will learn how to fly.”
___
Dr. Gadian Richardson, as he has been introduced, buttons his suit as he stands, the last touch to complete his look of perfection. His face is clean-shaven, each strand of his honey-colored hair intentionally placed, and when he speaks, it is with the slightest Irish accent tracing his otherwise American tongue.
“The poet Yeats has said, ‘The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.’ It may be unusual to speak of magic and quote poets during a business proposal, but I assure you that it is the least unusual thing to come.”
He clears his throat and leans forward, resting his hands on the conference table.
“We are individuals of wealth and prestige, owning a world of tomorrows. Yet if we look to yesteryears, we find a power that has eluded us for centuries. The greatest secret of all has found a hiding place in our disbeliefs.
“But there is nothing I could say that would be so convincing as what you are about to see. So without further ado . . .” He pauses and gestures to a lovely African American woman standing, hands clasped, at the door.
SEVEN
Tuscan Italy, Jan 1472 A.D.
We hoarded our days teaching Leo as the vagrant does a coin. No day was wasted—no longer did we allow time to flutter away until it disappeared over the horizon. When I wasn’t trying to get Leo to envision himself as a duckling or bat, Alessio was attempting to illustrate how to soar like the rays of the sun. How I loved those days, every moment spent with Leo or Alessio, or both. It was the only time in my life that I didn’t feel the ache of loneliness. Still, it wasn’t without its discouragements.
Sweet Leo had never been one to be daunted by failure, and though his feet stayed firmly on the ground, he retained his spark in his eye. “I can do this,” he assured us when we would fall quiet.
But hours upon hours without a hint of progress can wear on the most stalwart soul, like water dripping on a stone. I watched as the set of Leo’s jaw changed from determined to desperate. We needed a victory. He needed, for once, for a day not to end in defeat.
“We may not be taking enough of a risk,” Leo suggested. “Alessio may have been right that first night—I couldn’t trust my instincts to let me fly then. But now you have drilled into me how to shapeshift and fly; it’s been my every waking thought. I think my instincts have changed.” How I cringed at those words, I think.
So we stood in our old spot, up to our necks in silence, a dusting of snow around us, and the frozen lake below. The air between here and the water felt brittle and fragile, nothing to depend upon. As I leaned over the ledge, it seemed farther to me than ever before. The distance had never bothered me in the past—I knew I’d be safe. But Leo . . . if a fall like that didn’t kill him, the biting cold water very well could.
“Well . . .” Alessio broke the silence, running his fingers into his dark hair. “If you live through this, you’ll have quite the story to tell afterward.”
“This is undoubtedly the stupidest thing you’ve ever done,” I said, not daring to look at Leo.
“Thanks for sharing your feelings, Jo. I know that’s difficult for you,” Leo teased, somehow completely obvious to the idiocy of what he was about to do.
“Stop joking. Just . . . don’t.”
He squeezed my hand. “It will be okay. I know you wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me.”
I didn’t respond, pursing my lips as I tried to picture in my mind how a swan could catch a nearly grown man who was falling. With my beak? It seemed absurd.
“Well . . .” Leo backed up a few steps to take it at a run. “The longer I wait, the more difficult it will be.”
“Wait!” I shouted mid-step, causing him to stagger forward.
“What?” Leo and Alessio demanded of me at the same time, all our nerves splintered.
“I . . . Leo, this could be a terrible idea. I am scared. Terrified.”
Leo gave me the softest smile, and it occurred to me it could be his last. “Me too. But nothing cures fear better than—” Before he could finish his sentence, he had flung himself over the cliff. “Action!” he yelled as he fell. Next to me, Alessio swore, but I didn’t waste a precious moment looking him. I just jumped, transformed, and trusted Alessio was behind me.
Ahead of me, Leo’s back was arched and his arms were o
ut, waiting to catch the wind. For a moment, everything seemed beautiful—the contrast of his blue clothes against the white and gray below him, his shadow on the ice with nothing to tie it tightly to his body as usual. Somehow, I knew Leo was smiling.
But the moment lasted too long. He wasn’t changing. I sped up as gravity fiercely grabbed Leo and pulled him helpless to the earth. At my side I saw Alessio, arms outstretched and his usually smiling mouth now set thin.
“Leo!” my mind screamed. My beak was useless, but I had to do something. Thrusting myself forward, I caught up to Leo, then with one more beat of my wings, I was ahead of him. My wings sliced the air between Leo and the water, and though I knew I couldn’t carry him, my hope was to at least slow him enough for Alessio to catch up. His weight and momentum collided with my swan body, and in the next instant, we cut into the unforgiving surface and were submerged.
The cold slapped me awake from my swan form, back into my human reality. Wet feathers turned to limbs and layers of clothes, and I strained my heavy body toward the dim light of the surface above. It was an unfair fight—weak human limbs against glacial water. My hands searched as though climbing a rock wall, but I got no higher. My lungs searched for air, but only found invading lake water and a fear even more frigid. The water was bitter and gritty, the taste of drowning. I thrust and kicked for my life until I saw a hand reaching for me.
My words halt for a moment and I swallow, wondering for the slightest moment if it would have been better than what would come. Perhaps that’s what scares me the most. Having no idea what’s in store now.
Azure taps her cheek, and I nod.
My story is the price they demand.
Alessio clasped his arm around mine and finally my face broke the surface, drops running together into my eyes and dripping from my hair. Being in his arms never felt sweeter. Gasping for breath, I searched for Leo and found him on all fours on the shore, back wrenching as he heaved up water.
“I have you,” Alessio panted, his words strained as he flew above me, his knuckles white against my forearm. Both our clothes were heavy with the water, making it difficult for Alessio to fly, but slowly we made it to shore.
I crawled next to Leo. The wind was the cruelest kind of thief, taking what it didn’t need, even the last of my heat that had hidden away in my core. Our hair was plastered on our faces like seaweed, and turning to Leo, I threw my arms around him. I wanted to laugh and cry and rage, but when I pulled back, I saw Leo’s face and all of that died in my throat.
He was pure sadness encased in shivering skin. The tie had fallen out of his crimson hair, and it was one of the only times I’d ever seen it undone. It rested across his shoulders, like red feathers from a shot down robin. With both hands, he dug his fingers into his scalp and left them there, his face down.
“Idiot!” he shouted at himself, slamming one hand against the side of his head, burying his face deeper into his concaved chest.
“No! You had to try,” I defended him, kneeling at his side.
“I actually believed it would work,” He looked up, but not at us. His eyes fixed hard and accusing on the ledge we just jumped from.
“We need to get out of the cold,” Alessio warned, placing a hand on my back.
“He’s right.” Leo’s voice was curt. He swallowed hard. “You need to get home before you get sick. Hurry, you shouldn’t waste any time. Don’t worry about me.” Leo stood and stepped out of my reach. “You know what the fastest way is.”
Without another word, Leo left us, his shoulders and neck hanging as though a thousand pounds rested upon them. He didn’t look back—he wouldn’t in case he saw us fly away.
Flight. His dream. His fragile dream. Just as soon as it had allowed itself to deeply put down roots, instead, it got pulled up and left limp to die.
“Go on home,” I tell Alessio, forcing my chin not to quiver from the cold. “He just needs me now.”
Alessio paused, then stepped forward and kissed me, leaving at least my lips warm. “Hurry.”
With a nod, I wrapped my arms around my shivering skin as I ran until I was next to Leo. He didn’t look up when my stride met his, and I wouldn’t speak, either. In frostbitten silence—both painful and numbing at the same time—we walked, our steps matching with each footfall.
___
Chairs squeak as we all turn in our seats to see her.
Without a word, she steps forward and opens her palms out in front of her. When she closes her eyes, we look at each other, amused smiles on our faces.
Suddenly a crack snaps all of our attention away from her to the center of the table. Spider veins begin there, like when a pebble hits a windshield. They spindle out, seeming to grasp for our papers and devices. With startled screams, we clutch our belongings and jump up, plastering ourselves to the walls. Even in our shock, we cannot pry our eyes from the center of the table, where a shoot has sprung forth, green and fresh, growing by the second until only a few moments later, a flowering dogwood tree fills the space above our heads, fully in bloom.
EIGHT
Tuscan Italy, March 1472 A.D.
I adore the first time of the year when I can walk barefoot outside. It was still a bit wet for the other mothers to let their children outside without shoes, but my mama was not like most. She stood next to me in the soft mud, thin dress lifted and clenched in one hand, the other lifted toward the heavens.
“Has the sun always been this warm?” she joked. “It’s been so long.”
I laughed, my breath finally invisible again. The fragrance of blossoms carried on the wind, which no longer nipped and bit at us, but came as a friend. We had gone out there to plant the garden, the only thing in it so far the cats that prowled in hopes that one of the new birds in the sky would land there. Around us, branches that had long been nude clothed themselves in tight green buds. This was home. How I loved it there.
As I speak those words, I stare directly into Azure’s blue eyes, searching for some indication, some hint, as to if I will ever see a spring in Tuscany again. She stares right back, but the blue in her eyes is impossible to read. Where someone else might see the open sky, I only see ice.
“Then?” she urges.
Then . . . Mama spun in the white sunlight, her long dark hair hugging to her. Though she never was able to gain abilities from the earth, I do not doubt that I only have my gifts because of her. Someone had to teach me, had to show me how to fiercely love the earth and in that, she couldn’t have been a more perfect mother for me.
“Oh, spring,” she sighed towards the skies. “We’ve missed you.”
With that sentence, I was reminded of what I had missed most that winter, even more than buds and birds. It had been months since I had seen Leo.
For weeks after the incident, I went to Leo’s house, begged the servants to let me speak to him, but he stayed tightly behind brick and mortar. I sent in notes, though if he read them, the words did not comfort him enough to come to speak to me. Then one day as I was walking to his house, I stopped and turned around, and hadn’t tried to visit once since.
It wasn’t three days later that Leo came to see me, and this time I refused. I didn’t know why. Mama had looked at me, brow knit in worry, but she hadn’t said a word to me as she went back to the door and explained to him that I wasn’t feeling myself. Possibly she thought it was the closest excuse she could give to the truth. Since then, day after day had passed, with each one leaving me wishing I hadn’t turned him away. Yet I didn’t go, either. Every day I ached for my old friend, and I tried to fight off the loneliness that would kidnap my heart away by spending every moment possible with either Mama or Alessio. Yet as lovely as they were, I had always known that no one else could fill the void that Leo left in my life.
Until that day when at last my dear friend came back to me.
“It doesn’t surprise me one bit to find you two out here.” The familiar voice brought a swell of happiness crashing around my ribs and insides. Spinning, I found
Leo smiling. That smile—it was a pick breaking up a frozen ocean inside me.
“Well, praise above! He lives!” Mama announced with a flourish of her arms. We chuckled when she embraced him. She wasn’t open like that with just anyone. With Alessio, she barely mustered more than a curt nod. Perhaps it was the difference in their classes that caused her to act that way, or perhaps she was beginning to understand how strongly Alessio and I felt for each other. Without Leo around, my world had begun to orbit around Alessio. No longer was our time solely spent flying, but we’d waste our days in the markets or roaming the cold streets simply content to be hand in hand. Whatever grief I felt at missing my best friend was kept at bay when Alessio would press his warm lips against mine.
But now Leo was back.
I followed Mama’s lead and lifted my arms towards him. The hug was stiff where it should have been soft. I expected it to end abruptly, but he instead held on a few moments longer.
“I’ve got candles drying inside that I need to check on,” Mama said. “It’s good to see you again, Leo.” She smiled as she left.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out when she was gone. “I should have come out when you visited. I don’t even know why—”
He closed his eyes and held up a hand to stop my words. “Don’t you apologize. Don’t you dare say one more word about it. You did nothing wrong.”
He looked up, and his own apology was in his gaze.
“Come on.” I stepped forward and motioned to the seeds sitting in a cloth on the ground. “Help me.” In my smile, I hoped he could see that those cold winter months were melted away. Today it was spring, and if spring is anything, it is new and hope. “Unless, that is, you’ve finally begun to care about keeping those fancy trousers of yours nice.”
He chuckled and knelt beside me.
“I’m glad you came,” I said, stabbing the ground with a stick as Leo plucked the seeds in his fingers to drop down the holes.
They Called Us Shaman Page 5