Free Azaria by J.H. Hayes

momentum she realized she’d land almost exactly where she'd imagined she would. Just past the center of the deep pool. She pleaded for it to be deep enough. As she fell she began to anticipate the impact with the dark water of the pool. She was falling head first. She couldn't adjust now to land on her feet. It was too late. Azaria straightened her arms out in front of her, as if it was a normal dive and then closed her eyes.
    Down below, her mother Zephia was waiting on the other side of the river, along with her son and mate and hundreds of others. Most were watching the northeastern incline waiting for the runners to come racing down, but she’d been eyeing a large hawk mother, circling above, hunting for river-meat. Zephia wasn't the only one watching. Hawks were majestic animals, sacred and bearers of tidings - usually welcome ones, but occasionally less so. When she saw a figure suddenly throw itself off the cliff she stared aghast, not believing her eyes. She gulped before opening her mouth to scream warning. As she realized the plunging form was her own daughter, the dread creep of death overpowered her. "Azaria!! Azerban! Azaria!!" was all she could shriek as she pointed upward and fell back.
    Her mate looked up in the direction she was pointing and saw his beloved daughter spread eagle, floating in the air above Vulture Rock, plummeting to her doom. Others were also pointing now, some caught breathless and others screaming in horror. At first they thought she would smash into the giant vulture nests, but as she dropped past them they realized she would live until she hit water. They watched as she soared, mesmerized, a golden-brown eagle-woman falling to her end.
    Azaria hit the water with great force. A magnificent splash rained back down upon the river bank. Zephia, still lying on the dusty path, had turned away, at first unable to watch, but returned her gaze just as her daughter hit, accompanied by a horrible smacking sound. She let out a deathly scream reserved only for mothers forced to watch their children perish.
    Azerban's fatherly instincts took over and he raced into the water yelling his daughter’s name. How did she fall off the cliff? He hadn't yet reached the river, when he saw a head bob up. He sprinted toward it. His beloved Azaria would be dead, but he needed to retrieve her body.
    But she wasn't dead. She was swimming, straight toward him. "Azaria! Azaria!" he continued to call, wading into the river to reach her.
    Thank the Mother she's alive!
    When he finally met her Azerban grasped her arm, but she shook him off. "I'm fine," was all she said as she splashed the rest of the way out and took off running toward Sunset Hill. The rest of the crowd was silent, speechless, only able to watch her pass.
    "She's a bird! Azaria is a bird! Father, Azaria is a bird-runner!" Quzo yelled. Her little brother didn't realize it, but it was a name that would catch on quickly among the other youngsters, partly because he would spend the rest of that sun telling all his friends the amazing story of how his sister had swooped down from the top of High Cliff, hovered over Vulture Rock and then landed on the river, already running for the finish line before her feet touched the water.
    As Azerban followed his daughter to the bank, he heard gasps and then another loud crash sounded behind him. He ripped his eyes from his daughter. Spinning around he was met by another huge spray. He instinctively knew another runner had followed his daughter and feared for that life as well. He swam out and saw a second head bob up in front of him. It was the Fox Camp girl. The one Izyl, the shapely Fox Camp Ta’araki, had helped raise when her parents had perished in that terrible tragedy so many winters ago. He grabbed onto her arm, helping her swim to the bank, amazed she’d survived the fall as well. It was then he realized his daughter hadn’t fallen – she’d jumped. Then he heard more screams. He bowed his head in dread