by M. L. Ryan
The dog had definitely gained some weight since I first encountered him, but he’d filled out even more here in Courso. Maybe this dimension agrees with him, I wondered. It was more likely he was being fed better; I was pretty sure he was getting fresh food every day. No processed, mass-produced pet food in this dimension.
Hewlyxnathin plopped onto the floor and sat cross-legged in front of Rufus, remaining motionless while the dog gave him a thorough once-over with his long snout. Then, he slowly extended his hand to be sniffed. Rufus must have liked what he smelled, because he licked Hewlyxnathin’s fingers.
“Probably smells the peanut butter,” Hewlyxnathin laughed.
We spent nearly an hour, just hanging out. There wasn’t a lot of space, but the stone walls provided an excellent surface to bounce the rubber ball that had been provided for Rufus’ entertainment. Another gold star for those responsible for upping the living conditions for the pup. When we got up to leave, Rufus sort of leaned on my leg, but beyond that tiny display, he took our departure well.
“So, what do you think?” I asked as we made our way back to the upper floors of the Residence.
Hewlyxnathin shrugged. “Seems like a regular dog to me. I didn’t get any Yterixa vibe, but if your canine friend is associated with the scourge from the third dimension, I might not pick up on it.”
That wasn’t the rousing affirmation of Rufus’ dogness that I hoped for, but I understood his qualms. “Well, at least you can let the guys know there wasn’t anything obviously dastardly about him. Maybe that will help them decide he’s not going to harm anyone.”
“It will be my pleasure. He does appear to be a lovely dog.”
Hewlyxnathin did just that when we gathered for dinner. Alex and Sebastian listened to his evaluation, but it didn’t change their minds any. I reluctantly resigned myself to the fact that until this whole Doc Martens debacle was over, Rufus would likely remain in solitary.
After the meal, Hewlyxnathin went to meditate in one of the gardens while the rest of us retired to the sitting room for faytri, the sweet, creamy Courso equivalent of coffee, and to discuss the problems at hand.
“We have but three more weeks to find a way to thwart this criminal,” Rexa warned, “and I do not see much progress.”
Alex’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. His mother didn’t seem to notice, but I knew how hard both he and Sebastian had been working to come up with some way to stop Doc from making good on his promise to take over Coursodon.
“It is difficult to plan when we know so little about the threat, Mother. We have made some headway with counteracting the volcanos. They have not abated completely, and it took a tremendous amount of concentrated magic to slow the eruptions.”
“Your team has made great strides,” Kyzal praised. “But I fear we do not have enough time to rely solely on arcane defenses. We must try to get actionable intelligence. Otherwise, it is as if we are sparring with shadows.”
“We have been over this again and again. Do you really think spying on our own people will prove fruitful?” Tannis chided.
Kyzal stood and began pacing the floor. “I would not suggest it if I did not. These are risky times, and risky measures are necessary.” He stopped and gazed out a window into the darkness. “Sometimes the end justifies the means.”
Sebastian joined the fray. “Yes, but you are advocating more than just widespread surveillance. If anyone here is an ‘end justifies the means’ kind of a fellow, it is I. But even I am troubled with the prospect of relinquishing almost all rights of the populous. You cannot assume everyone is guilty until proven innocent.”
Alex placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We know you have only the best intentions. But it is the Glyzimutitch Zolmere that runs Alenquai. What if they decide, after the danger has passed, that these restrictions should remain?”
“It won’t matter if the danger doesn’t pass,” Kyzal hissed.
Wyx rose from the sofa and stood between his sons. He draped his well-muscled arms around their shoulders and said, “These arguments are not helping. We are all well aware of the ramifications if this madman is not stopped. Let us focus on finding a way to do so.”
Despite Wyx’s admonitions, the tension didn’t ramp down. Kyzal, still clearly agitated, turned and left without another word. Tjryxina made some lame excuse for her husband’s abrupt departure and followed him down the hall. The ensuing silence was awkward at best, with everyone who remained either lost in their own thoughts or unsure what to say next.
The atmosphere was actually much like get-togethers with my relatives, which often dissolved into some squabble with one or more family members leaving in a huff. Of course, the bickering never concerned anything with the same global ramifications as tonight’s dispute. Our blowups were usually a result of some perceived slight, like when an uncle refused to speak to my mother for two years because she topped the sweet potato casserole with marshmallows when she knew full well his new fad diet restricted his consumption of anything soft and white.
In this case, however, I could see how both sides of the debate had merit, and I was delighted I didn’t have to make the call. Those kind of “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” decisions were best left to politicians. They didn’t seem to mind pissing people off or being responsible for decisions no one liked. In fact, it might be one of the reasons they run for office in the first place.
After Kyzal stalked off, everyone else started to trickle out. When Alex and I left, only Tannis remained, staring out the window at the moonless night, sipping a snifter of brandy.
“What will happen next?” I asked as we walked to the safe room.
Alex shrugged. “Hell if I know. I suppose Sebastian and I, along with our team, will continue trying to devise a plan to counteract the Dekankaran’s magic. We’ve assembled some of the greatest minds in Alenquai, but frankly, it seems an impossible task when we don’t really understand what it is we are dealing with.”
I hadn’t noticed before—maybe the dimly lit passageway was to blame—but Alex looked like he’d aged about ten years since we got here. Dark shadows encircled his eyes, and his normally luminescent complexion seemed pallid and lackluster. The strain of the situation, both emotional and physical, was bad enough, but he also had to worry about what Doc might do to me specifically. Even so, I was fairly certain he hadn’t looked this drained yesterday.
“Is being in the safe room with all the extra praseodymium zapping your strength?”
“No. I’m fine.”
His clipped tone belied the actual words. I stopped walking and turned to face him. With hands planted firmly on my hips, I shot back, “Fine?”
Alex pursed his lips as if measuring his words with care. When he finally spoke, he first let out a long sigh of resignation. “Okay, normally it wouldn’t make a difference, but I’m a bit tapped out to begin with.”
Much as I didn’t want Doc Martens making guest appearances in my head, I sure as hell didn’t want Alex depleted. There was no way of knowing how this would turn out, but having everyone at the top of their game seemed like the best scenario.
“If the safe room is having this much of an effect on you, then we shouldn’t sleep there.”
He took my hands and laced his fingers in mine. “Carisa, I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you. He already kidnapped you once. If he can enter your dreams, who knows what more he is capable of?”
“Yes, but I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.” Staring into his beautiful blue eyes, I added, “If it will help you, I’m okay with you sleeping elsewhere. Maybe we could ask Tannis to room with me.”
“We will see. Tannis is strong, but not nearly as powerful as am I. For now, I and I alone will make sure the safe room really keeps you safe.”
I’d never been the sort of person who found possessiveness in a male an endearing quality, but under these circumstances, Alex’s alpha-male protective-thing was kind of a turn on. As it turned out, by the tim
e I’d brushed my teeth and returned to bed, he was out like a light. So much for taking advantage of my erotic reaction to his protective declaration, I thought wistfully. Probably just my erotic reaction to not getting any for a while.
The days passed. Hewlyxnathin continued to tutor me in our less-than-ideal circumstances, but I was still using enormous quantities of energy when I bent. It might have been a little less exhausting, but the change was so slight it was difficult to call it an improvement.
While I didn’t seem to be making much progress in the ease of my transformations, the same couldn’t be said for my appearance after returning to human form. My hair was beginning to resemble the plumage of a Harris’s hawk with lighter brown at the temples and a whitish patch at the base of my head. I liked the coppery highlights around my face and the stripe was easily concealed by the rest of my hair as long as I wore it loose. This was fortunate because the seaside high humidity gave my curly locks enough of a Bride of Frankenstein vibe without the addition of the non-pigmented section.
Doc hadn’t pillaged my slumber, but Alex didn’t seem any less run-down either. We did get notice that the stone Doc gave me in my dream had a number of components that didn’t exist in the Coursodon or human dimensions. That information wasn’t unexpected, but it creeped me out to have proof that my soporific storylines weren’t entirely in my head. Or whatever it was that happened when something from a dream physically manifested itself.
Of course, knowing Doc Martens really was from another dimension wasn’t particularly helpful in figuring out some way to defeat the fucker. Every so often, he’d ramp up the eruptions a little, presumably to remind everyone the clock was ticking. I guess it was a smart ploy; each time the volcanos did their domino-like sequence of spewing ash and lava, the powers-that-be from the various kingdoms had to acknowledge—at least in private—that they might be forced to give in to his demands. It also made those who were trying to stop him re-double their efforts to come up with a solution that didn’t include being ruled by a psycho-stalker-megalomaniac.
I longed to be able to add something constructive, but I was way out of my element. Spying while in bird-form was one thing—trying to help brainstorm a magical solution to a seemingly all-powerful foe was another. With nothing much to do, I was spending more and more time with Rufus. He was always happy to see me, and he made me feel like I wasn’t completely useless. The forced incarceration was beginning to wear on the dog, however. Aside from being more restless in general, he had worn his nails to bloody nubs by scratching at the stone floor. Rufus’ growing agitation made me even more insistent that he be given less restrictive lodging, but my vehement pleadings fell on deaf ears. Throughout, no one had a shred of evidence that he was anything other than what he seemed, which made me even more determined to change Alex and Sebastian’s overly cautious minds. If nothing else, maybe they’d get tired of my constant nagging and give in. One should never underestimate the power of unrelenting bitching.
I asked the guards to bring a chair so I didn’t have to sit on the floor while visiting Rufus. They provided a comfy recliner, which was way more than I’d expected. In the last day or so, the dog didn’t seem as interested in playing as before, and the leather lounger was the perfect place to work on my tenuous command of the Courso language.
Tannis had written a bunch of words and phrases for me to memorize. Everything was written out phonetically because I was having trouble remembering which Courso symbol corresponded to a specific sound. Foreign languages had never been my strong suit. In high school, I struggled with Spanish for the two required years and was barely able to hold the most rudimentary conversations. Sure, I could swear in twenty different tongues, but that was pretty much the extent of my talents. I was determined, however, to master Courso, even if it killed me.
And kill me it might. If the long, unpronounceable words, laden with Xs and Ys weren’t bad enough, the overabundance of irregular verbs made me want to throw myself off the nearest balcony. Tannis insisted it was nowhere near as difficult as learning English, with its varying pronunciation of similarly spelled words—like through, rough, and though—not to mention words like lead and lead, spelled exactly the same but with completely different meanings. She had a point, but Courso seemed to me to be a little like German mixed with Greek on crack.
As I tried to commit “Where is the bathroom?”—oixmat clyjit jyx?—to memory, Rufus finally settled down and was resting comfortably next to the chair. Haphazardly glancing through the many pages of impossibly annoying vocabulary, I laughed out loud when I noticed Tannis had included translations of “Was it good for you?” and “Not tonight, I have a headache,” to my list of useful expressions.
The quiet of the room, adjustable seating, monotony of the task, and my short attention span combined to let drowsiness overtake me. Soon I was lost in a fantastic dream that involved Alex and a large quantity of massage oil. Just as things started to get really hot and heavy, the air seemed much thicker. At first, I thought it was my subconscious making some symbolic representation of Alex’s manhood until I saw Doc Martens’ face—hazy and ill formed—pressing as if encased in plastic wrap against the window in my dream room.
“God damn you! Get the fuck out of my dreams!” I wailed. Or at least, I tried to. I was having one of those nightmare moments when you wanted to shout, but you couldn’t. Frustration mounted as Doc pushed further into my mind, his grinning visage growing clearer by the second. I didn’t know where Alex went, but apparently, I was on my own, dream-wise. In the distance, I heard frantic barking, which perplexed me, as there hadn’t been a dog in my dream.
Focusing on a tactic I’d read about where a person can change what was happening in a dream, I imagined zapping Doc in much the same way as I had Lyjwix. Instead of Doc Marten disintegrating in an uncontrolled, magical inferno, his grin just grew wider. Okay, that was an epic fail, I brooded inwardly. The clamor of howling snarls intensified, and suddenly, Doc’s mocking smirk morphed into an alarmed grimace. His face became more difficult to see until all that remained was the window, flat and unmarred.
I woke up and tried to move, but was pinned down. Struggling to free myself, and scared that Doc was responsible for my invisible manacles, I suddenly became aware of my face feeling wet and a little sticky. Gross. I hope this isn’t some sort of third-dimensional ectoplasmic bondage.
I awoke to a brown, furry snout hovering over me. The second Rufus noticed my eyes were open, he began to lick my face as if someone had slathered it with a juicy, raw steak.
“Yuck, Rufus,” I spat while trying to avoid his tongue. “That’s enough!” I realized what I thought were restraints were Rufus’ paws planted firmly on my chest. “Hey, thanks for waking me up, buddy, but you’re too big to be a lap dog.”
Obligingly, he scooted off, but kept a protective stance by the side of the recliner. I sat up and noticed two of the guards crowded around me, glaring at the dog. Both looked how I felt: worried and a little sick to my stomach.
“No, no,” I pleaded, holding out my hands in what I hoped was inter-dimensional body language meaning ‘chill out, dudes’. “No problem here, boys. Just a bad dream.” I knew they didn’t understand a word I was saying, but hoped my smile coupled with petting Rufus showed them he hadn’t hurt me and was no threat.
My performance must have convinced them, because they visibly relaxed. Now that the tension ramped down, I desperately wanted a nice, cool drink to soothe my roiling gut but didn’t know how to ask. I really need to learn this freakin’ language.
Despite my lack of linguistic skill, mere moments later a woman stood in the doorway holding a glass. She looked ancient, even older than Karttyx, and by Courso standards, I didn’t even want to begin to estimate how old she might be. After a short conversation with the guards, she slowly moved her wizened body across the room until she finally made it to the chair. I smiled, thinking, Isn’t this great, a nice old lady is bringing me some water to make me feel better, when
she brought the cup to her own lips. Before I could process this odd turn of events, she spat the water on my face.
“What the hell was that?” I blurted once the initial shock wore off. The human spray bottle was dabbing my face and shirt with a towel and saying something I couldn’t understand, but in a surprisingly comforting tone, considering she’d just spewed something all over me.
“It is an old Courso folk remedy, my dear,” Sebastian replied as he strode into the room. He bent down, gave me a visual once-over, and exchanged a few words with Granny Spits-A-Lot and the guards.
“I know folk remedies are usually handed down from generation to generation via oral tradition, but I think this is taking it a bit too far,” I groused, wiping something suspiciously slimier than water off my forehead.
Sebastian arched one eyebrow. “Yes, but are you still nauseated?”
Now that he brought it up, I didn’t feel like bringing anything up anymore. “Actually, no I’m not.”
“There you have it then. The cure worked perfectly. You were so shocked, you forgot about your queasiness.”
Madame Anti-Emetic gazed at me expectantly, waiting, I assumed, for some sign that her therapy had done the trick. “Gleexna,” I said with a nod. While my ‘thank you’ brought a smile to her wrinkly face, I really hoped she’d flossed recently. “How did she know I was about to hurl?”
Sebastian sat on the arm of the chair. “Apparently, you looked a bit green around the gills, and the cleaning woman was nearby.” He looked down at Rufus, who had relaxed his posture considerably since Sebastian arrived. “The guards tell me they heard the dog barking like a hellhound and when they entered, you were thrashing about. They feared you were being harmed by the dog, but when you awoke, it was apparent that was not his intention.”
“I was being harmed, but not by Rufus.” I started to explain what happened when Alex flung open the door.