by M. L. Ryan
Once again, Pixie was true to his word. Myrjix held up the three outfits he’d sent up for me. It was an easy choice; only one didn’t make me nauseous.
“It’s probably my PA’s plan to get me to wear what he wants,” I griped, glancing at my reflection in the full-length mirror. Compared to the flowery grandma prints on the other options, the square-necked, pleated dress wouldn’t have been bad had it not been pink, one of my least favorite colors. I did ditch the matching hat. No way would I doff something that resembled an off-centered UFO landing on my head. The little guy managed to sneak in some milliner’s goods after all.
To my dismay, Alex and I didn’t travel together. He would be busy until right before the ceremony, so Pixie and Myrjix alone accompanied me.
“There’s a slight change in plans,” he began as we exited the marqizobaz. “The money for the new building was donated by a wealthy man whose father was Yterixa. Ryxjat thought it might be a nice touch if you transformed.”
“Everyone keeps complaining I’m not dignified enough, and you want me to strip down and bend in front of a crowd? If this is what you wanted, why did I have to stuff myself into this Pepto-Bismol colored dress?” I ranted. “Does Rexa know about this?”
He cringed when I used her name rather than her title. “I don’t know for certain about the queen’s involvement, but I’m sure it is within protocol if Ryxjat authorized it. Not to worry, you will appear as you first. After, you will change into your hawk form behind the scenes and fly onto the crown prince’s arm.”
What’s next, soaring through a flaming hoop? “You’re kidding, right?”
“Not at all. Being Yterixa is rare and shows you possess great magical ability. Displaying these talents will ease any apprehension concerning your mixed heritage.”
I furrowed my brow. “Isn’t there a segment of the population that thinks Yterixa are second-class citizens?”
“An extremely small segment, and most of them hate anyone who is different from them,” he responded, shaking his head.
“Are you sure this won’t make it worse? If people are already skeptical about me, is it wise to give them another reason to think of me as an unsuitable wife for Alex?” Yeah, and if they knew I was pure human, they’d probably tar and feather me. Well, tar me, anyway. There was no need for the feathers.
“Polling results show the most common negative associated with you is you are not a full-blooded Courso.”
This was news to me. “Polling results? You asked random people what they liked and didn’t like about me?”
Pixie stared as if I’d grown a second head. “Naturally, I didn’t conduct the surveys myself. We have a separate staff to handle such matters, but, yes, divining public sentiment is part of our job.”
“What was the most common positive, then?”
“Your hair,” he stated. “They adore your hair.”
“This rat’s nest?” I argued, lifting a section of unruly curls. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”
I wasn’t sure what I expected. Most of my more noble ventures, like helping reunite Sebastian with his body or thwarting Keem’s crusade to take over the dimension, weren’t common knowledge. But really, to have the highest approval ratings be for my appearance, and the physical attribute I least liked to boot, was kind of insulting.
Maybe showing them my birdy-side isn’t such a bad idea after all, I considered. It would give them something else to focus on. “Fine. If Alex agrees, I’ll do it. But, I want some acknowledgement of my work with the Xyzok. I don’t want to be known just for my crazy hair.”
Pixie grinned from ear to ear. “Ryxjat was certain you’d refuse, but I bet him a week’s wages you would see how beneficial this could be for your image.”
“Much as I enjoy knowing you one-upped your boss, I’d rather you didn’t make wagers involving me.”
“As you command, milady. But I had planned to give you a ten-percent cut.”
I considered my tiny personal assistant. “Make it twenty and you can gamble away. I can make some extra spending money and stick it to Ryxjat at the same time.”
I didn’t think it was possible, but Pixie’s smile expanded.
“As you command,” he repeated.
When we met up with Alex at the library, he was as wary about the stunt as I had been originally. After listening to Pixie’s explanation, however, he turned to me. “I can see the thinking behind this, but I will give my consent only if you are completely okay with it.”
Truth be told, perching on Alex sounded a whole bunch more appealing than plastering a perma-smile on my face while trying to exude the classiness expected of a gryndin lypsemma. As I assured Alex I had no qualms, I remembered I’d already transformed earlier. It had been a few hours, but after my last training session, I couldn’t help worry about the after effects of another bend so soon. Hewlyxnathin had sent over a case of his medicinal brew the day before, so, to be on the safe side, I asked Myrjix to have someone bring a flagon of Hailey-ade to the site.
Soon, two chambermaids arrived with the elixir, along with a basket.
“Since this was a spur of the moment thing, it occurred to me that you probably didn’t have any food with you. I had them bring pimcyska-butter and jelly sandwiches for after,” Myrjix said with a knowing smile.
Mmm. The Courso-equivalent of PB and J was one of my favorites. “You think of everything.”
Her grin widened. “Thank you. That’s what I am supposed to do.”
She gave me a quick once-over and declared me fully presentable for the first act of the matinee. I took Alex’s arm, and we walked around the tall, curtained partition that shielded us from public view and onto the steps of the library. A few hundred people gathered at the bottom of the stairs, and they broke into polite applause when we appeared.
Alex made a short speech, most of which I understood—Yay! My language skills improved daily!—and then we moved to the thick, burgundy bow stretched across the entrance to the building. The press corps, crouching down to allow the guests a better view, stared up at us while Alex flicked his hand and the ribbon split into two pieces. No big scissors in this dimension, apparently. After more applause, Pixie caught my attention and beckoned me behind the screen.
In preparation for my bend, Myrjix helped me out of my bubble-gum dress. Personally, I had no problem if the duds became damaged, but I needed something to wear after the festivities. Dyzopga was another matter; I wasn’t taking any chances with the priceless family heirloom. Myrjix took my engagement ring and dutifully handed it off to the Wiqyrd dirthyxa.
Another speaker—the rich benefactor, I assumed—began describing how his father, a Yterixa who changed into a bald eagle, instilled in him the love of books that inspired his sizable donation. Now I got why Mr. Moneybags wanted me to transform.
Although I’d done this hundreds of times before, this was my first command performance in front of a crowd, so to speak, and a wave of anxiety washed over me.
Shit, I thought. What a time to get stage fright. As I took a deep, calming breath, Myrjix happened to hand the After-Bend to Pixie. My throat was annoyingly dry, and years of watching television commercials featuring sweaty athletes quenching their thirst with a similar product convinced me the green liquid was just what I needed to moisten it. I reached for the metal flask, careful to take only a few sips in case I needed its restorative mojo later. It tasted tarter than I remembered, but this was from the new delivery. Probably like craft-brewed beer, I figured, no two batches are exactly alike. It did the trick; I was still nervous, but no longer parched.
A different voice detailed how the crown prince’s fiancée used her Yterixa gifts to help catch Courso miscreants who preyed on unsuspecting humans. Although I knew she was talking about me, it seemed odd to have someone speak in such glowing terms, and my jitters increased.
“It’s time,” Pixie announced, and I began the process of changing into a hawk.
Concentrate, I told myself. Visualize beco
ming feathery. The familiar tingling sensation that signaled the start of the bend coursed over my skin. At the same instant, how the crowd would react to my other form popped into my head.
I felt a sharp pain in my side. I’d never gotten a cramp during a bend, but I’d never been this anxious, either. Despite the mental and physical distractions, I let myself complete the transformation. Almost immediately, I noticed people moving quickly, screaming. Upon closer observation, I realized they were all scrambling away from me. I also realized one other important bit of information. I was watching from above the chaos.
Slowly, I swung my head around, hoping against all hope that I’d see brown feathers, and my aerial view was merely a function of having flown into a tree.
Man, was I wrong.
What I did see was a long, scaled tail. Oops, I thought, somewhat embarrassed that my first non-rage-induced transformation into Birdzilla was still unintentional. And in front of strangers.
That was the least of my worries. The area behind the curtain was more than adequate for Myrjix, Pixie, a couple of extra staffers, and the four Royal Guards assigned for backstage protection. And for me, in either human or hawk form. Unfortunately, not for the addition of the ginormous dragon creature I had just bent into.
I’d crushed the frame of the partition and had the burgundy canvas tangled under my belly, all in full view of the guests and the press. That explained the complete mayhem around me; folks came to these types of civic ceremonies expecting to glimpse someone famous, listen to a few innocuous speeches, and maybe score some free eats at the end. No one was prepared for a mythical beast, including the Royal Guards.
I’d seen holograms of myself as Birdzilla, and even I thought I was scary looking. All these poor saps knew was they were supposed to protect the crown prince and the gryndin lypsemma, and suddenly, something went terribly wrong. It didn’t help that one of the guards was on the ground near one of my clawed feet. She wasn’t pinned there, and only seemed dazed, but her comrades didn’t know that. Thus, I couldn’t really blame them for letting their magic fly.
In training, Sebastian had blasted me with arcane power intended to maim or injure to give me a taste of what it felt like. The simulation hurt like a son of a bitch, but Sebastian didn’t want to kill me, so he held back. And, when finished, he’d healed all the damage. The guards were not so gentle.
White-hot streams of energy dug into my flesh, agony forcing the air from my lungs. I tried to take to fly off to avoid the barrage, but I feared I might accidentally harm the fallen woman, still lying precariously near my foot. Amongst the racket—my monstrous roars, spectators screeching, guards barking orders—I thought I heard Alex shouting, imploring them to stop, but the salvo continued. Using my wings to shield my body and head, I attempted to scoot away from the downed guard and the ones still bombarding me with magic. Just a few more feet, and I’d be far enough away to take off safely.
As I reached a clearer spot, I had to make a decision. Unfurl my wings to fly, and risk more magic pummeling into parts of me I really wanted to keep in one piece, or stay where I was, protected only by those huge, leathery appendages. The choice was made for me, however, when a new onslaught powered into me from the opposite direction.
The undercover Xyzok must have joined in. I had to get the hell out of there.
I didn’t want to die, certainly not under these circumstances, but the additional volleys closed the small window of opportunity for escape. Indescribable terror surged within me, and with it, so did my tenuous grasp on restraint. Unbidden, what little power I had left began to build within my wings, and I knew when the flames fully developed, I wouldn’t be able to stop them.
Alex was down there, somewhere. And Myrjix. And a bunch of Royal Guards and Xyzok, just doing their jobs. I wouldn’t save myself by frying any of them.
With all my effort, I flung my wings upward, fire shooting skyward, but not directly at anyone or anything. More magic stabbed into my already battered torso. God fucking damn it, I thought as paroxysms of unfathomable agony ripped across my belly. I heard an ear-shattering boom, and the waves of pain seemed to recede.
This is much better, I thought, waiting for death to claim me. There was a bright, bluish flash of light, and then only darkness.
24
Nothing was more joyous than regaining consciousness and discovering I was human. Trust me—nothing. Okay, maybe alive and human topped it. Suffice to say, when I came to, the sensation of cool grass on skin, not scales, was a huge relief.
The first person who came into view was Alex, his face hovering just inches from mine. When my eyes blinked open, his closed, and he let out a relieved sigh.
“Are you all right, carisa?” he asked, letting his worried gaze rake over me.
I wasn’t sure how to answer that. Who knew one could feel both pulled apart and compacted at the same time, but that was as close a description as I could come up with. I felt like shit, if shit had been run over by a tank and the flattened pile collected and squeezed through a meat grinder into sausage links. Refrigerated ones; I was cold as well as damaged. On the other hand, I wasn’t dead or stuck as Birdzilla. I couldn’t verbalize all that, as speaking seemed like an unnecessary waste of energy and my lips weren’t exactly cooperating, but I nodded and tried to smile.
Alex clutched me against his chest. While I enjoyed the sentiment behind the gesture, the movement made me dizzy and threatened to send my not-insignificant discomfort somewhere in the range of twelve on a scale from zero to ten. I groaned, feebly, but enough so Alex eased me back onto the ground.
Someone tossed something over me. I must have blacked out because the next thing I knew, I was warm and considerably more comfortable. A quick glance around revealed I was in my bed in the palace, with some old dude I didn’t recognize reaching under the covers and kneading his palms against my abdomen.
“I hope you’re a doctor, or I’m going to have to kick your ass.”
The wizened groper didn’t remove his hands or respond to my threat. He did, however, crane his head over one bony shoulder and call out, “She’s awake.” He then lasered me with a glower and said, “I am the healer. Shut up and let me heal.”
“Great bedside manner,” I muttered.
“I’m not paid to be pleasant,” he growled, shifting his hands around my rib cage. “Only to fix you.”
I doubted there was enough magic in the entire dimension for that but before I had a chance to complain further, Sebastian strutted into the room.
He regarded me from the end of the bed. “All things considered, you look wonderful, my dear.” He beamed, patting my feet from atop the duvet.
“If you’re being this complimentary, I must have been in bad shape,” I wheezed. “How long was I out?”
“Around two hours. It was a bit dicey there, I have been told.” He glanced at the doctor.
“She’s lucky to be alive.” To me, he added, “If not for Prince Aldegrexynthor, you would be in the morgue.”
I turned my head on the pillow in an attempt to look out into the rest of the suite. Bad idea. I didn’t know you could feel dizzy while lying down.
“Try not to move,” Dr. Groper ordered. “Particularly not your head.”
Would have been nice if he’d shared that information earlier, the asshole. Once the room stopped spinning, I asked, “Where is Alex?”
“I sent someone to notify him you are conscious; he is meeting with the head of the Royal Guards. He was not at all pleased you were fired upon.”
That made two of us. “How did they not realize it was me?”
Sebastian shrugged. “None of them were aware of your alternative form, and the transformation occurred behind the screen.”
“That explains why the Xyzok blasted away; they couldn’t see it was me. The guards were right there. They should have seen me bend.”
“I suppose that is why he wanted an explanation.”
Doc Personality pulled his hands away from me and c
rossed his arms over his chest. “You should begin to feel better in a day or so. Until then, rest. Drink plenty of fluids. Do not step out of bed until you can sit up without the room spinning.”
“What if I have to go to the bathroom?”
“There is a bed pan on the nightstand. Use it.”
Hell no. I couldn’t even force myself to pee in a pool, much less lying on a cold, metal saucer. “I don’t do bed pans,” I ground out.
He shook his head and gathered a small, leather case from beside the nightstand. “If you must, have someone carry you in and carry you out.” With surprising alacrity for a man of his advanced years, he spun on his heel and stomped out.
“I wonder if it’s okay if I wipe myself,” I grumbled under my breath.
His voice drifted in from down the hallway. “Only if you can do so without falling off the toilet.”
Apparently, age hadn’t affected his hearing. “Nice guy,” I huffed. “Good thing he’s not a pediatrician; he’d scare the crap out of kids.”
Sebastian moved around the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. “I do not know if he works with children, but he is considered one of the most gifted healers in all of Alenquai.”
Technical excellence with little or no interpersonal skills. In the human dimension, he’d be a surgeon. I’d have to ponder the significance of that later, but there were more pressing questions right now. “What exactly did happen? I mean, I know I turned into Birdzilla.” I winced. “Guess that’s not a secret anymore.”
“Hardly. When the evening papers hit the newsstands, I am certain their front pages will be filled with lovely photos of you, in all your Xterixa glory.”
“I’m not sure what I did makes me Xterixa. It wasn’t intentional.”
“It was not intentional the first time you shifted into your hawk form, either,” he noted. “But, you did transform in this dimension, with no outside influence from Dekankara.” Sebastian opened his arms. “Voila, Xterixa.
“At least I didn’t get stuck as Birdzilla.” Try to explain that to the future in-laws. Or find suitable wedding attire for an eight-hundred-pound, winged monstrosity.