“You can do this, Ro.” Ihaan, pride in his wide, deep brown eyes, met Ro’s.
The eagle Spirit whistled quietly and moved down his leather arm gauntlet, closer to him than Anima Nipissing. A warm summer breeze washed across the lake’s clear surface, hitting Ro and Ihaan in their wooden canoe.
Ihaan bounced his muscular arm, but instead of flying, Ro splashed overboard into the water. “Ro!” Ihaan called, voice cracking. He blew strands of his long, scraggly brown hair off his face and scooped Ro out of the lake, setting her on the canoe’s front thwart.
Ro shook out her silk-like, brown and white feathers and seemed to glare.
“Sorry,” Ihaan apologized, pulling her close. “Why don’t we try again later?”
Thank you, read Ro’s eyes. She perched on the canoe’s edge while Ihaan paddled them into the mainland, glossed with deep green firs, pines, and spruce.
Ihaan pulled the canoe up on a small, sandy beach behind a point and hopped across a line of rocks in the lake. He stopped at the last one and studied himself, using the water as a mirror. He was no longer that fifteen-year-old boy from one winter ago with the Mystery Gang but a young man who had grown several inches overnight. Was that a hair on his tan chest, and when did his shoulders become broad? Why did the Spirits wait so long to give Ihaan his gifts?
At the sound of a whistle, Ihaan turned and saw Ro standing on the rock behind him, her wings spread. Would she do it? She hadn’t flown since the accident. Ihaan’s hope faded when she folded her wings back and closed her eyes—yet she stuck close to him when he returned to the mainland.
Ihaan grabbed his bow and quiver of arrows from his canoe. From there, he half-limped and half-ran through the forest, practicing archery on his targets and swimming in smaller ponds tucked behind another point.
Ihaan’s lips curved into a smile as he dragged himself out of the third practice pond. He tiptoed to Ro, who sat on another rock facing away from him, and poked her back.
Ro jumped and whirled around, but her shoulders soon relaxed, and she seemed to return Ihaan’s smile. The next hour passed in a blur while they chased one another and played, but then Ihaan stopped suddenly and studied the sky.
“Oh, I forgot!” he bellowed. He had to be there to greet his friends. He picked up Ro and carried her back to his canoe, adding, “I’m not going to carry you forever, Ro. Great Spirit says you must fly again.”
“No!” Ro whistled, burying her head in Ihaan’s chest.
He had never seen her so traumatized, which meant that her fear was worsening, like how afraid Ihaan was last winter when he first met the Mystery Gang. They and Ro helped him through his trauma, and while Ihaan felt he had to return the favor to Ro, he also remembered Velma’s words: “Stand up for yourself.” That meant that Ro couldn’t rely on only Ihaan or the gang to regain her confidence—she had to pitch in, too. But how did someone with limited social skills explain that to a bird, let alone a group of Spirit Animals, in case it ever happened to them, too?
Why did Ihaan suddenly feel he needed the gang more than ever that week? No matter what happened, at least he had them and the Animals to guide him. “It’s time, Ro,” he said, bumping foreheads with her. “Let’s go meet Fred, Daphne, Velma, Shaggy, and Scooby. We’ll worry about this later.”
Another thank you shone in Ro’s eyes.
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