Special Rewards (The Coursodon Dimension Book 2)

by M. L. Ryan

  The package turned out to be a light, terry-cloth robe held together with its sash. Being modest, and a little chilly in the cool evening air, I quickly put it on. “Good thinking,” I said as I tied the belt around my waist. “It would have been weird walking into the palace naked.”

  “Because you transform into an animal smaller than yourself, your clothes may have survived the change. First Yterixa tip of the day: try to stash clothes around where you live and work. Even if you don’t care if some stranger gets an eyeful, in your world it’s not going to be easy to explain why you are naked in public.”

  He had an excellent point, but I wondered if he also meant that in this dimension, it was no big deal to encounter the unclothed. I didn’t think form-benders made a habit of transforming in front of spectators. Even if you knew transformation was a possibility, it had to be disconcerting to witness. Which led me to my next question.

  I turned to Hewlyxnathin and asked, “Hey, what does it look like when someone transforms?”

  As I finished saying the last word, Hewlyxnathin disappeared. Well, he didn’t really vanish, but that’s how it seemed when one second I was looking at his face and the next I saw only the trees that were behind him. Mouth agape, my gaze slowly dropped down the now imaginary line of where Hewlyxnathin’s body should have been. At the end, there he was in his animal form, sitting upright on the walkway. Beaver-Hewlyxnathin was kind of cute; his broad, flat tail was folded forward between his webbed, back feet like a surfboard while his much smaller front paws rested on his belly. It was hard to tell for sure, what with the big front teeth and all, but I could swear he was grinning.

  “Wow. I had no idea it was so…instantaneous.” From my perspective, the change seemed to take a while and consist of a gradual transition as human body parts morphed into their animal equivalents. The now-you-see-me-now-you-don’t scenario was a lot more attractive than the squirmy, squishy metamorphosis I imagined.

  Before I had a chance to completely process what I had just witnessed, Hewlyxnathin shifted back to himself with the same blink-of-an-eye technique he’d used to become furry. Of course, he was au naturel, but now I noticed that his clothes lay in a heap beneath his crouched body. He stood and picked up his pants, examining them for any damage. Satisfied in their structural integrity, he pulled them on – guess he likes to go commando - and repeated the routine with his shirt and sandals. The headband, unfortunately, did not escape unscathed and was reduced to a few thin strips of tattered fabric.

  “See,” he announced as he held up the remnants of the bandana, “There’s no rhyme or reason to what remains intact and what does not.” He examined the scraps of colorful fabric and sighed. “That was my favorite one.”

  I wasn’t quite as lucky, wardrobe-wise. My t-shirt was mostly intact with only a small, vertical tear near the bottom. Unfortunately, everything else was damaged beyond being wearable and I never did find any trace of my thong. Hewlyxnathin assured me it was likely that sometimes my clothes might remain whole enough to re-wear. Maybe. His lack of resolve did not inspire. Between the inevitable garment loss and the need to hide replacement garb, I vowed to increase my monthly clothing allowance.

  As we walked out of the garden, Hewlyxnathin munched on what looked like a granola bar. “Second Yterixa tip of the day,” he said, swallowing the last bite, “In case you make a quick change, like I just did, or you don’t have the opportunity to take in extra calories while in animal form, squirrel away some non-perishable snacks along with the clothes. Just be sure you package it carefully to keep the squirrels away.” He apparently found his attempt at word-play hilarious, because not only did he cackle right after he said it, but continued with periodic, otherwise unprompted laughter the entire distance to the palace.

  Alex and Sebastian were waiting at the door to the sunroom with ridiculously huge smiles plastered across their faces. Of course, I, too, was grinning like a Cheshire cat, so they might have been responding to my happy appearance.

  “I did it,” I bubbled as I threw my arms around Alex.

  “I know,” he said into my hair as he kissed the top of my head. “We watched from the library window.”

  “And I didn’t want to puke afterwards.”

  Sebastian snorted. “Lack of vomitus is, indeed, something of which to be proud.”

  I pulled away from Alex’s warm embrace. “Hey, lay off me. Post-form-bend nausea is like stomach flu wrapped up with a hangover. You’d be excited about that part too if you had ever experienced it. Oh wait, I forgot. You wouldn’t because you can’t transform.”

  I knew it was mean to rub his nose in the fact that I could become an animal using his magic when he had never been able to accomplish it. But there were so few things I was able to lord over Sebastian. Anyway, my peevishness didn’t seem to bother him because his only reaction was the lifting of one eyebrow coupled with a blank expression.

  Laughing, Alex chided, “I wouldn’t goad Sebastian too much. He coined the phrase, ‘Don’t get mad, get even.’ So, how was it?”

  I proceeded to give a detailed account of the afternoon: the controlled transformation, the exhilaration of flight, changing back. When I described how seeing the lone feather I sprouted gave me the confidence that I could accomplish a full form-bend, Hewlyxnathin lowered his head and said, “Yes, about that….” He shuffled his feet as his voice trailed off. “For new Yterixa, mastering transformation requires a certain amount of confidence that one is capable of controlling the change. I found an appropriately colored feather in the garden earlier in case you needed some inspiration.”

  I pulled the feather I thought was mine from the pocket of my robe and pointed it accusingly at my tutor. “You tricked me?”

  He lifted his palms in front of his chest and tilted his head. “Yes, but in my defense, the deception worked beautifully. Admit it, once you thought you could do it, you did.”

  He was right, of course, but it still pissed me off that he’d resorted to subterfuge. “You know,” I complained, shaking my head with disappointment, “it would be one thing if Sebastian pulled this kind of cheap stunt – I expect him to be sneaky and underhanded – but you?”

  Hewlyxnathin glanced at Sebastian, and admitted somewhat sheepishly, “Well, it was his idea.”

  Figures. I narrowed my eyes and stared at the Yterixa master. “Look, don’t ever do anything like that again. I need to be able to trust you. And you, Sebastard,” I threatened as I poked him menacingly in the chest with the bogus plume, “Keep your teaching advice to yourself.”

  “One must utilize the techniques that promise the best chance of a favorable outcome,” Sebastian said with a shrug. “It’s not my fault that you respond to that type of artifice. But let us not dwell on the method, my dear. We should focus on the wonderful results.” He sized me up with one of his accusatory stares. “You really are a glass-half-empty woman, aren’t you? Besides, I discussed this with Alexander, and he agreed you might need some encouragement.”

  Alex grimaced and narrowed his eyes at his friend and mentor. “Thanks for throwing me under the bus.”

  With a derisive snort, Sebastian replied, “You did not think I was going to withstand her wrath alone, did you?”

  I’d had enough of all three of them. “You know, you guys are a real buzz-kill. I’m going to go take a shower and try to find something to get the taste of rabbit guts out of my mouth. Then I plan to sip on whatever is the Coursodon equivalent of a margarita while I contemplate the thrill of my first terror-free form-bend.”

  I stomped out of the room and into the hallway. My plan to leave them guilt-ridden with my pique was, sadly, more difficult to accomplish when I realized I had no idea where I was or how to get to the suite. I’d sooner slather myself with honey and sit on an anthill than go back and ask for directions, so, head held high, I strode confidently to the left. When I was certain they could no longer see me, I took the time to better assess my surroundings.

  Eventually I found my way,
and it all worked out in my favor. By the time I got back to our rooms, Alex was already waiting with a frozen concoction that tasted more like a daiquiri than a margarita, but I didn’t complain. It was alcohol, and it didn’t taste like jet fuel. I played it as if my absence was a conscious effort to walk off the anger rather than just my pathetic sense of direction. In fact, the 45 minutes I spent wandering forced me to accept that I probably wouldn’t have transformed if they hadn’t used the fake feather contrivance. I admitted as much to Alex, but there was no way in hell I’d give Sebastian the satisfaction.

  After I’d brushed my teeth and showered, I wanted nothing more than an evening without any more discussion about this afternoon’s chicanery. As I sipped my second grazinkatzi, which turned out to be lime, sugar and some distilled product made from a sugar-beet-like root, I asked Alex if there was any new information about who might be trying to kill him.

  “Actually, we did get some leads today. Tannis put together a list of anyone I’ve apprehended who might hold a grudge and is no longer incarcerated.”

  He handed me the list – it was in Courso so I couldn’t read it – but it was three pages worth. “Wow. That’s a lot of people you’ve pissed off.”

  Alex nodded. “And that doesn’t include anyone who might want revenge for the criminals that refused to be arrested.”

  I assumed by “refused to be arrested” he really meant “ended up dead.”

  “So, what is this, like 30 or 40 names?” I remarked as I scanned the pages. “That seems like too many to whittle down for an actual investigation. Can you find out which ones either were in the areas of the attacks or at least don’t have alibis for when the attacks occurred?”

  He passed another single sheet of paper my way. “That’s exactly what this list is. But I must say I’m impressed that you knew how we narrowed the suspect list. When did you have time to learn about criminal investigative techniques while you were milking chinchilla?” he inquired.

  “It’s not like rocket science, Blondie,” I snarked as I chucked the abridged version at him. “Besides, I watched a lot of CSI: Miami. So how many real suspects are there?”

  “There are five that had opportunity and motivation, and the local Xyzok have them under 24-hour surveillance.” Alex paused and pressed his lips into a tight line. With a heavy sigh, he continued. “I’m not sure that I should tell you this, but one of them is Angelica’s brother.”

  No wonder he was hesitant to share that bit of information. Angelica tried to kill me and would have succeeded had I not planted a fancy metal chopstick through her eye. Only a handful of people knew that I had been the one to dispatch Angelica, the official version was that Alex had ended her life in the line of duty.

  I felt like my stomach dropped to the floor. “All these attempts on your life might be because of something I actually did?”

  “He’s just one of the possible culprits,” he responded quickly. “And even if it turns out that he is responsible, it’s not like you murdered Angelica or recklessly caused her death. There is no reason to feel guilty.”

  Easy for him to say. Guilt is one of those emotions that often defy logic. I could try to rationalize why this wasn’t my fault until the cows came home, but I couldn’t live with myself if it turned out that Alex was in danger because some wacko with a vendetta blamed him for that bitch’s death.

  “Hopefully, the perpetrator has a legitimate reason for wanting you dead.” Under the circumstances, sarcasm seemed like the best way to assuage some of my self-condemnation.

  Alex responded with frown. “I knew I should have kept this to myself,” he muttered under his breath.

  ~24~

  As the days passed, I became more adept at form-bending. By the second week, I could easily shift from human to hawk and back again without any prompting from Hewlyxnathin. I still had some problems with nausea if I forgot to replenish all the calories used up in the transformations, but even I had to admit when it came to being Yterixa, I rocked. The heightened magical potential of the Coursodon dimension still had little effect on any of the other abilities Sebastian’s magic should have afforded. There was a slight improvement from my starting point of toddler-level skills. On a good day — if I was well-rested and properly motivated — I could pull off what a normal Courso six or seven-year-old could easily master. No one knew why I sucked at the run-of-the-mill stuff yet excelled at something as rare and complex as form-bending. And while it remained to be seen if I could transform back home, everyone was pleased with my progress.

  The intelligence about who was after Alex changed frequently, the five on the original list of potential wrongdoers ballooned and shrunk almost daily. And while potential miscreants were added or eliminated, there were two that remained throughout. The first was Trychinat Scoreliaxyta, a guy who used magic to “convince” rich humans that they should invest in his wealth management portfolio. The scam was a lot like Bernard Madoff’s billion dollar Ponzi scheme, except that Trychinat actually altered the human’s minds to make them believe the unrealistic profit margins were real. Based on Alex’s testimony at trial, Trychinat was convicted and spent 25 years in prison until being paroled a few months ago.

  The other was Angelica’s brother, who had more issues with Alex than just his sister’s death. Alex had also been instrumental in denying Gabriel acceptance to the Xyzok training academy when it was discovered that he paid someone to take his entrance exams. Not only did that end his dream of following his older sibling into the Xyzok ranks, but after his humiliated father disowned him, he went from a life of relative comfort to living hand-to-mouth for a number of years afterward. What were Angelica and Gabriel thinking when they decided to use the messenger-of-God theme for their human names? Maybe they sensed they wouldn’t turn out well and hoped the couldn’t-be-farther-from-the-truth monikers might prevent the inevitable. That, or they realized saddling themselves with the more appropriate “Duplicitous Slut” and “Cheater” might have diminished any chance they had of a productive life.

  “Something just does not seem right with any of these,” Sebastian said as he perused the latest update. We were in one of the many sitting rooms in the palace, and he was stretched out on a settee, feet resting on a beautifully carved, and likely ancient, wooden coffee table. He seemed oblivious that the table wasn’t an ottoman, but no one made him move either. “I find it difficult to believe that anyone on this list has sufficient animus, not to mention resourcefulness, to carry out the attacks.”

  Alex stopped typing on his laptop and gazed at Sebastian. “I’ve considered that as well, but when you get right down to it, none of the attacks have been particularly sophisticated.” He pushed his chair away from the small desk he was using and leaned back with his hands behind his head. “In fact, the first two incidents, the fire in Hailey’s yard and the snake in the fruit basket, couldn’t possibly have been intended to kill. So why tip your hand?”

  “It’s more like the plot of a low-budget slasher movie,” I added. “First a couple of weird, but seemingly unconnected, things happen, like the pet dog goes missing and then the house is tagged with elaborate graffiti depicting the zombie apocalypse. Next thing you know, people are being lured into the woods and chopped to bits by a chain-saw wielding maniac.”

  Alex raised his head and stared at me like I was speaking in tongues. Sebastian simply arched an inquisitive brow. I could tell they had no clue how anything I had just said related to the topic at hand. “Come on guys, it’s an allegory. Or maybe a metaphor, I forget the distinction. The point is, if someone is nuts, their actions don’t necessarily follow a logical progression.”

  “She has a point,” Sebastian conceded. “We have not really considered it could be someone, not with a score to settle, but with a delusional mind.”

  Shrugging, Alex countered, “Perhaps. But if my assailant is just some crazed psychopath without a prior connection, he or she cannot be tracked. The only way to apprehend such a person is to catch them in the
act. In any event, it is more likely that the perpetrator has a specific grudge.”

  “Of course, I am not suggesting we abandon investigating our prime suspects,” Sebastian responded with a brusque flip of his hand. “But we should not ignore the possibility of a more nebulous motivation.”

  As long as we were thinking outside the box, or at least outside the list, I decided to speculate a bit more. “You know, if the attacks were aimed at Sebastian, you’d have to factor in a disgruntled former lover.”

  Sebastian chuckled. “What makes you think that Alexander could not be a victim of a relationship gone horribly wrong?”

  “Well, it’s hard to picture Alex eliciting that kind of venom from an ex-girlfriend,” I replied. “You on the other hand, I’ll bet there are plenty of women who’d like to see you dead.”

  “My dear, as you are aware, I have only participated in casual liaisons and I am completely up front with my intentions, or the lack thereof, before engaging in such…arrangements. If anything, women I have known should be less likely to harbor deep-seated hatred.”

  Placing my hands on my hips, I answered with an indignant, “How have you been with thousands of women and know so little about them? Sure, a lot of them were probably perfectly okay with the booty calls, but don’t you think there had to be some that secretly hoped there’d be more?”

  Other than a slight crease in his forehead there was little indication that Sebastian was considering my question. He gazed silently at me for at least half a minute before he responded. “I think you might be correct, my dear. How silly of me to believe women would not wish to be more than just a dalliance. I am, after all, me.”

  I could feel my face flush as my blood pressure began to climb. You are so fucking infuriating, you egotistical asstard! I’m not sure why he affected me so negatively just then. Maybe I was tired. Or hungry. Or just fed up. Whatever the explanation, I was definitely pissed. Aware of the tingling sensation in my fingers, I glanced around to identify something in the room that Alex’s parents might not hate me for destroying. I quickly realized that there was nothing that looked even vaguely replaceable, much less expendable, and I needed to get a grip. Besides, Sebastian being his normal obnoxious self was no reason for me to lose control. Maybe all the stress of Alex being in danger is making me twitchier than normal. I focused on the taste and texture of milk, chugged directly from the carton, weeks past its expiration date. That did the trick. The prickling in my hands diminished and the furniture lived to be used another day.