Special Deceptions (The Coursodon Dimension Book 5)

by M. L. Ryan

  The lack of visible signs of Deep Throat didn’t concern Sebastian, however. Following the “remnants of arcane energy,” he led Ulut and me through the regiments of chairs, tables, and lamps to an alcove near a staircase. There, Sebastian tapped his obscenely expensive Stefano Bemer oxfords on the floorboards.

  “Behold,” he exclaimed, gesturing theatrically toward the powdery grime at his feet.

  “What exactly are we supposed to be beholding?” I asked, scrutinizing what looked like all the other bits of dirty hardwood. Ulut gave me a sideways glance, indicating he, too, wondered if Sebastian had finally lost his marbles.

  “Try to sense the magic, my dear. Breathe it in; let it surround you.”

  Sebastian had attempted this lesson before, with limited success. I wasn’t particularly adept at identifying traces of supernatural activity, but he claimed I just needed practice.

  “All I sense is an oncoming allergy attack,” I muttered. “Is there a dimensional ban on vacuuming?”

  “Humor me,” Sebastian challenged.

  “Fine, but if I start to sneeze, I’m using your sleeve as a hanky.” I was supposed to concentrate on finding any mote of mystical potential, but as that never worked before, I decided to go the opposite way. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. At first, I was aware only of the musty, stale air, but soon became distracted by Sebastian’s rhythmic inhalations and the rumblings of my not-quite-sated stomach. As I contemplated what delectable goodies might be offered at afternoon tea, the image of double fudge mini-cakes and chocolate eclairs was replaced by the unmistakable certainty that just to the right of my left foot was a small hatchway.

  I crouched down, but even when I brushed aside the layer of dust covering what I thought was a trap door, there remained only unadulterated wood planks. “I was so sure there was something here,” I fretted.

  “There is,” Sebastian affirmed. He squatted next to me and offered an encouraging smile. “Try again.”

  Now that I had an idea the secret passageway existed, my previous technique of not thinking about it was nearly impossible. It was like being told not to imagine a pink elephant; a rosy pachyderm was the only thing you could envision. Fortunately, in this case, the mental picture of a pale red Mr. Snuffleupagus allowed my wonky brain the freedom it needed to dislodge the camouflaging magic. As a tendril of energy slithered off my fingertips, the edges of a hatchway appeared.

  Sebastian beamed. “Excellent, my dear. For you to eliminate such expertly crafted obfuscation shows your skills have improved.”

  I was rather proud of myself as well; that may have been the first time I’d conjured up anything besides destruction or a form change. Still, I wasn’t positive Sebastian would be quite as complimentary if he’d known the roundabout means I’d utilized to achieve my supernatural triumph. Instead of illuminating the master to my shortcomings, I grinned back and let him continue the delusion that I yielded his appropriated power like some arcane wunderkind. After all, magically speaking, I was the child he’d never had.

  Cautiously, Ulut ran his fingers along the outline of the now-obvious cutout until he found enough purchase to pull open the flap. The three of us peered inside, and I pulled out my phone to illuminate the dark depths.

  Sebastian studied the device. “I am gratified there is yet another satisfying application for my latest innovation.” He drew out the word “satisfying” with an unmistakable implication of salaciousness not usually applied to electronics. Even though I attempted to remain unruffled, the mere mention of the primary use of my current flashlight made my cheeks flush.

  Ulut glanced from Sebastian back to me, clearly confused as to what made my face take on the color of a baboon’s butt.

  “I’ll explain later,” I said under my breath. There was no way in hell I’d spell out the details in front of Sebastian. His gargantuan ego needed no further augmentation.

  Sebastian hopped down into the gloom. “Let us see where this leads,” he announced gleefully. Nothing like a hunt through a mysterious, underground tunnel to make his day. Ulut followed, and both peered up at me as I continued to crouch at the entrance. From what I could see—which wasn’t much given the lousy beam of light coming from my phone—the passageway didn’t look well supported. I didn’t mind scurrying through a small, dark shaft to god-only-knew-where, but having the channel collapse upon me was another issue entirely.

  “Is this thing safe?”

  “Where is your spirit of adventure?” Sebastian replied. “Besides, I would wager the cost of my favorite human-made automobile that this has been here for as long as the palace has existed. If it has not fallen for fifteen hundred years, it is not about to do so now.”

  I wasn’t certain if he was offering the Ferrari or the Lamborghini, but as the bet was likely rhetorical, it really didn’t matter. Swinging my legs into the opening, I dropped down next to Ulut. While the tunnel seemed better made close up, the musty scent of damp earth and millennia of poor ventilation didn’t make me any more eager to continue. Using the last argument I could think of against proceeding, I suggested we might be overstepping our bounds and ought to let the King’s Guards investigate.

  Sebastian’s measured, “As I stated before, until we know the who, what, and why, no one is beyond suspicion,” conveyed his displeasure. Even with his face obscured in the shadows, I knew he was scowling.

  “Fine, I just don’t want some sort of international incident. Pixie’s irritating enough already,” I complained.

  “My dear,” Sebastian began as he moved farther into the passage. “The purpose of a protocol aid is to help you navigate through the stormy waters of royal life. Being unduly vexatious is counterproductive to his duties. A happy future princess is a compliant one.”

  Keeping my phone pointed just ahead of my feet so as not to trip on the precariously sloping floor, I grumbled, “Tell that to the little dictator.”

  “You do not need me to admonish him. In my experience, you express your displeasure quite readily.”

  Ulut’s voice rang out from somewhere ahead of me. “It’s true, Hailey. You don’t hold much back.”

  “Well, he is a major pain in the ass. Even more so than you, Sebastian,” I added brusquely.

  “My dear, how you wound me,” he moaned, feigning offense. “The truth of the matter is you generally chafe at situations where someone attempts to assert any control over you.”

  I stopped in mid-stride. “Are you implying I have a problem with authority?” I knew I did, but that didn’t mean I wanted anyone else to know it.

  “There is no implication involved, my dear Hailey,” Sebastian called, continuing down the tunnel. “I am stating it quite clearly.”

  I hurried to catch up, and when Ulut didn’t contradict Sebastian’s claim, took his silence as a personal affront. “I expected some loyalty from man’s best friend,” I groused as I drew close.

  Ulut chuckled. “Even a domesticated animal knows when someone can’t stand being told what to do.”

  We trudged on, slowly making our way forward in focused silence. I’d gotten somewhat acclimated to the soul-sucking murkiness. Keeping the guys a few paces ahead, I turned off the phone so the battery wouldn’t run down. The absence of conversation and light, mixed with the rhythmic plodding of their shoes a few paces ahead, gave me the perfect opportunity to mull over my so-called issues with authority. Was it a character flaw to push back against dogmatic, humorless numbnuts hell-bent on keeping me under their capricious thumbs?

  My ruminations ended abruptly when my companions suddenly stopped and I smacked into Ulut’s back. I took the brunt of the collision; Ulut barely stirred.

  I grabbed my face, which, while still throbbing, seemed only superficially damaged. “What the hell? I could’ve broken my nose.”

  Sebastian shook his head. “You should pay attention to your surroundings. We halted our forward progress a good ten seconds before you unceremoniously barreled into us.”

  Technically, I�
��d barreled into Ulut, so I apologized only to him.

  “No problem,” he said. “Your footfalls alerted me before the impact. I had time to prepare.”

  “Then why didn’t you give me a heads up?” I asked.

  “I don’t know; I guess I wanted to see how oblivious you really were.”

  “If you were in dog form right now, I’d smack you on your nose with a rolled-up newspaper.”

  “And I, in turn, would wait until later and lift my leg on the hanging clothes in your closet.”

  “You need to spend less time with Sebastian,” I cautioned. “His vindictiveness is rubbing off.”

  “I didn’t learn that from Sebastian. I learned it from Vinny. He is a master at passive-aggressive reprisals.”

  That was the truth; my cat knew how to exact exquisite revenge for perceived kitty-slights. Puking in my shoes was one of his favorites, but sometimes, when Vinny wanted to be particularly retaliatory, he vomited next to my bed where I’d be sure to step in it when I woke up. Nothing like cold cat barf squished between your toes first thing in the morning to get your day off to a great start.

  In the interest of civility, and because I couldn’t come up with a sassy retort, I settled for a change of topic. “So, why did we stop?”

  Sebastian snapped his fingers, and light flooded the space. The sudden switch from all-encompassing blackness forced me to shield my eyes. “Son of a bitch, warn a girl when you plan to flick on the light switch!”

  Sebastian chortled, and when I finally adjusted to the change, I realized the mega-lumen spotlight I’d imagined was only a glowing orb nestled in Sebastian’s outstretched palm.

  “If you could do that, why the hell were we wandering in the dark?” I complained.

  “I have found the absence of visual stimulation helpful when sensing low-intensity magical signatures,” Sebastian explained. “Had I been distracted by sight, I might have missed the hatch above us.”

  Now fully illuminated, the tunnel continued for another hundred feet or so. As I tilted my head upward, all I saw was packed dirt with two-by-fours supporting the makeshift ceiling and walls at regular intervals. Even my non-focusing, focusing-on-finding-the-magic trick came up empty. Frowning, I glanced at Sebastian. “I don’t see a damned thing.”

  With a knowing smirk, Sebastian closed his hand. “Try now,” he commanded from the darkness.

  Almost immediately, the image of a hatchway flashed in my mind. “It’s right above Ulut, isn’t it?” I breathed.

  Sebastian flicked on the hand light. “See,” he exclaimed triumphantly. “Without the interference of your most dominant sense, the others can rise to the forefront. You now have more than the normal panoply of innate, human perception and will have to train yourself to utilize your newest ability.”

  Detection of magic wasn’t as awesome as transforming into a hawk, or as satisfying as destroying stuff, but it was cool nonetheless. My arcane abilities appeared to be evolving, which meant perhaps I’d eventually master the two talents I longed for: invisibility and changing anything edible into dark chocolate.

  Ulut studied the root-entwined ceiling. “Don’t see a thing, but I will take your word for it. Where do you think this opens into?”

  “It is a bit difficult to ascertain,” Sebastian replied. “We are either directly below the west wing of the palace, or under the stables. I, for one, prefer the former; I would hate having to crawl out amongst equine excreta.”

  “Better horse shit than human,” I posited, “Who’s to say we won’t emerge in the royal septic system?”

  Ulut’s brows furrowed. “That’s ridiculous. Why would anyone create an entrance in the sewer? Or in a horse stall, for that matter.”

  “Less likely for someone to inadvertently stumble upon it,” I offered. “Besides, you’d really, really have to want access to wade through something unpleasant.”

  “An excellent deduction,” Sebastian observed. “Let us hope the person we are following is not as twisted as are you, my dear. However, I am confident we will emerge in a more sanitary environment.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at me, as if challenging me to figure out how he came to that conclusion. As I thought about it more carefully, both the poop tank and stable ideas seemed highly unlikely. “Whoever used the tunnel had to open the hatch, but where we are standing is dry and doesn’t reek like an outhouse or a barn.”

  Using the classic charade pantomime, Sebastian pointed one index finger at me while letting the other tap his nose to indicate I got it right.

  “What if there is another exit further down the passage?” Ulut asked.

  Sebastian nodded. “A reasonable possibility, but with one opening here, I suspect the continuation of the shaft is merely to throw off anyone searching. One would naturally assume the exit to be at the end of the passageway. But, let us make certain, shall we?”

  The three of us traversed the remaining bit of tunnel, but neither Sebastian nor I detected another way out. Unless Deep Throat backtracked out the way she came in, the hatch was the only way she could have escaped. Confident we discovered her way out, now there was another dilemma.

  “We can’t just fling this open and pop our heads out of the floor,” I noted.

  “Much as I long to see what lurks above us,” Sebastian admitted, “I have come to the same conclusion. We must return to the shed, mapping the passage as best we can. We should be able to determine the corresponding location on the palace grounds. Once we establish the location, we can investigate further without tipping our hand to your informant.”

  We doubled back, carefully measuring the distance and making the best estimation of any changes in direction. A compass would have made the task easier, and I made a mental note to buy a watch with one built in. Sebastian’s sex phone wasn’t equipped with anything so useful, and even if I had my usual android device, the GPS capabilities were useless anywhere in this dimension, much less underground. One would think someone as magically endowed as Sebastian would be able to utilize arcane means to determine where the magnetic pole lay.

  By the time we made it out of the tunnel and left the storage building, the sun had long since set. In case anyone was watching, nightfall provided us with a modicum of cover as we traipsed back to our rooms, but, frankly, I’d had enough of wandering in the dark. At least topside, a crescent moon brightened the surroundings enough that I could avoid most obstacles, as long as I didn’t rush and faithfully followed Sebastian and Ulut’s path. Is it too much to ask that my next skill to develop will be superhuman eyesight?

  While Sebastian went off to pin down the location, Ulut and I met up with Tannis for dinner. We’d already missed the “official” meal, which for me was a plus as I wasn’t in the mood for small talk even with the delightful Uncle Fry. Although they appeared to be finishing up for the evening, the kitchen staff still bent over backwards to make certain we were well fed. I argued we needed nothing more than whatever we could scrounge up from the fridge, but they insisted on preparing something. Whether their accommodation stemmed from actual hospitality or reluctance to have us rooting around their kitchen remained unclear, but whatever the motivation, a delicious dinner was served in record time. I did manage one concession; they agreed to let us eat in the kitchen rather than the dining room.

  We brought Tannis up to speed on the evening’s events, and were just finishing up when Sebastian wandered in. Helping himself to a spoonful of the ambrosial, tiramisu-like confection that ended the meal, he sat down at a butcher-block island near the table around which we were seated. Based on the ecstatic moan as he swallowed, he liked the creamy treat as much as I did.

  “I must get the recipe,” he said. “Rachel will adore this.”

  “I hate to burst your culinary bubble, but she’s not a big fan of gooey desserts,” I countered as I passed the bowl over to him.

  “I’m well aware of her preferred confections,” he acknowledged, savoring another bite. “However, I was not referring to her tastes, bu
t mine.”

  “If you expect her to whip some up for you, you don’t know her as well as you think. Rachel, as someone much wittier than I once said, makes reservations for dinner.”

  He waved his hand dismissively. “While having her whip me would be lovely, you completely misunderstand, my dear. I will prepare this divine comestible, and I will consume it.”

  I was completely baffled. Apparently, Tannis was equally confused and asked, “And why will Rachel adore it?”

  A sly grin lifted the corners of his mouth. “Not only is this delicious, but it possesses the perfect consistency. My Rachel loves nothing more than when I remove such edibles from her naked flesh.”

  “Shit, Sebastian,” I wailed. “TMI, and I just ate.” I was mostly okay with their relationship, but I sure as hell didn’t want to know the details. Worse, I feared I could never again enjoy tiramisu without envisioning Sebastian licking it off my best friend.

  Sebastian, seemingly unfazed by my protestations, simply grinned.

  Ulut interrupted the stony silence that followed. “So, were you successful in figuring out where the tunnel exits?”

  “I was a bit off on my directions,” Sebastian admitted. “But this is a discussion best continued in a less public locale.”

  We followed him through the palace and out to the courtyard below my original rooms. He motioned for us to sit along the fountain’s edge and explained, “The noise here will make it difficult for anyone listening to overhear. Plus, before I went to the kitchen, I swept the area for any magical surveillance. Unless someone managed to bug the area in the interim, this is as secure a site as we are likely to find.”

  Apparently, this courtyard was good for a lot of clandestine activity. “Okay, so where did the tunnel end up?”

  “Rather than under the west wing, we were, in fact, slightly further south,” Sebastian acknowledged. “Best as I can determine, the access point is below the Splixinit jyxalitan.

  Tannis gasped as I wracked my brain. I knew Splixinit was a colloquial term for monarch. “Doesn’t jyxal mean bed?” I asked, not certain about the translation for the last word.