Special Rewards (The Coursodon Dimension Book 2)

by M. L. Ryan

  The entire event from flare up to cool down took only seconds, yet both Alex and Sebastian knew I’d been close to an eruption. At least Alex hadn’t hidden behind a large marble column, but, in fairness, Sebastian was more likely to take the brunt of my anger if I had blown.

  “You really shouldn’t let him bait you like that,” Alex said, shaking his head as he moved next to me. “But you did a great job of suppressing the destructive energy.”

  He looked me up and down and, apparently satisfied that I was, indeed, no longer a danger to either his mentor or the royal furnishings, turned to Sebastian. “Hailey has brought up another good point. We are assuming that whoever is responsible is after me because of my work, but that may be erroneous. We should cast a wider net.”

  “Perhaps,” Sebastian pondered as he slipped out from the protection of the carved pillar. “But she is probably correct that, in your case, an ex-paramour is not a likely candidate.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of an old girlfriend per se, but one never knows when, even inadvertently, one’s actions provoke another.”

  I decided to voice the thought that had been bothering me for some time. “What if they’re not after Alex, but after me?” I said softly.

  Alex looked at me intently for a moment before answering. “We considered that, but aside from the original tree incident, which we aren’t even sure is related to the other attacks, it all seems to be directed to me. And even that could have been the same person who didn’t realize I was gone. Besides, why would any Courso want to harm you?”

  “Unless it is Angelica’s brother, and somehow he found out what really happened in the castle. If he knows I killed his sister instead of you, he might want to even the score.”

  “I don’t see how he could possibly have found out,” Sebastian remarked. “It’s classified information. But I think it is prudent for us to not completely discount Hailey as the intended target, no matter how unlikely it seems.”

  Alex nodded and added a hurried, “I agree, but it is still highly unlikely the attacks are aimed at anyone other than myself.”

  I felt better having put my worries out there. Keeping it all inside gave it more weight than it probably deserved.

  He and Sebastian got busy trying to identify other suspects, presumably including anyone who might have an axe to grind with me. I hung around for a while, listening to them converse in their native language. The unusual cadence made it difficult for me to pick out more than a few words. It never ceased to amaze me how different Courso sounded than any other language I’d ever heard. Eventually however, boredom overcame edification and I decided to check out a section on the north side of the palace that I hadn’t yet explored. Not that I had the opportunity so far to visit much of the royal residence at Azeryx, and it could take a long, long time to see all 200 rooms and 325,000 square feet.

  As I made my way, I noticed a group of people – maybe 20 or so – being led on what seemed to be a tour. I vaguely recalled Tannis mentioning that parts of the palace were open to the public occasionally. It’s nice people get to see how the royal family lives, but it must be odd to have random strangers peeking at your house, I thought as I moved closer. The guide, a woman dressed in a drab suit jacket with the royal seal emblazoned upon the pocket, was expounding on what I assumed was the large, ornate sculpture they stood before. The small crowd listened raptly, a few glanced my way as I passed, but most completely ignored the non-descript, casually dressed woman walking in the opposite direction. They probably thought I was part of the paid help. I did notice a man standing at the back, who I recognized as one of the Royal Guard, but dressed in regular clothes. Probably extra security to supplement the regular unformed ones stationed here and there.

  I strolled about the north wing for about 15 minutes. After peeking into a number of rooms, the first I actually entered was a large, two-story library. A number of spiral staircases led up to the balcony that surrounded the entire second-floor. And I thought I had a lot of books. I stepped into the middle of the cavernous space and gazed up at the shear immenseness of it all. I must have looked like some country-yokel on her first trip to the big city gawking at the high-rise buildings, but it was damn impressive.

  “Hailey?” A deep voice called out from the upper level. “Is that you?”

  I turned around and saw Alex’s father leaning against the wooden balustrade, holding an open leather-bound book in one hand and waving at me with the other.

  “Hello…uh, Sir.” I still had trouble calling him Barack. Fortunately, he never insisted.

  “I see you’ve discovered my favorite space in the palace. There’s nothing quite like the smell of a book.” He closed the one he had been reading and tucked it under his arm. “I’ll come down,” he called out, and quickly descended one of the helical escaliers.

  Pulling a volume from a shelf, I leafed through a few pages. It was written in Courso, and while I appreciated the beauty of the foreign letters, I couldn’t understand a word. “I love books,” I said with a sigh. “It’s too bad I can’t read any of these. This library is amazing.”

  “You may not be able to read them, but you can look at the pictures.” He led me across the room to a tall bookstand, upon which a lone book rested. It resembled an old-school dictionary like the one I remembered my grandfather used to have on a pedestal in his office. As Wyxinorolyxazam slowly turned the large pages, I realized it was an atlas. The landmasses were hand-drawn, each a magnificent piece of art.

  “Here,” he said finally, indicating a map that looked like northern Europe. “This is where I was born, in Jjestri. When I married Rexanatyxa, I came to live here, of course.” He flipped further through the edition until he came to a map of the western United States. “This is the area where you are from, yes?”

  I pointed to where Tucson should be, but something seemed odd. The area was drawn in various tones of emerald to kelly green. “Where I live, we get very little rain. On maps like this back home, the deserts are usually beige-colored.”

  “These maps are similarly drawn. Many centuries ago, we learned to use our magical abilities to alter our environment. Water was channeled into what is your American Southwest in a series of rivers. That part of Alenquai is quite verdant.”

  When I looked closer, there were a bunch of waterways. One long river ran from the Rocky Mountains through the place where Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona and Utah touched, then traveled south across eastern Arizona between where Phoenix and Tucson should be, eventually emptying into the Gulf of California. Several smaller tributaries snaked out from it as well.

  I stared wide-eyed at the plat. “Was all this done to make living easier in an arid environment?”

  Wyxinorolyxazam nodded. “Partly, but the main reason was to moderate the severe storms that often occurred in the more central regions of northern Alenquai, areas I believe you call the Central Plains and Midwest. Once the extreme dry air was eliminated west of the great mountains, the weather patterns didn’t favor such extremes. There was more rain in general, just not nearly as many destructive disturbances. I’m sure it would be interesting for you to see in person what your home town looks like in our dimension.”

  “Maybe my house is on riverfront property,” I joked. Sure, the rest of the country may have milder weather, but the Courso version of southern Arizona must be a whole lot like Louisiana; hellishly hot and oppressively humid in the summer. But hopefully without the gators.

  As I began to contemplate the altered geography, a Royal Guardsman burst into the room. He grabbed me from behind and I felt something cold and hard against my throat. Wyxinorolyxazam switched from mild-mannered travel-guide to imperial leader in an instant. Standing ramrod straight, hands on his hips, he barked an order in Courso. By his sharp tone and scowl, I assumed he asked something akin to, “What the fuck is the meaning of this?” Well, maybe without the “what the fuck” part. After all, he was a king.

  Between my fear and the knife, I could barely breathe. I s
ensed myself wanting to transform, but wasn’t sure that I wouldn’t get my throat cut anyway. Okay, Hailey. Calm down. It took repeating that mantra to myself a couple of times before I actually felt confident I wasn’t going to shift. The guard – or whatever he was – continued to speak to the king, and Wyxinorolyxazam raised his hands and replied in a more placating tone.

  Without taking his eyes from the intruder, the king said, “Hailey, he wants me to summon Alexander. He says if I try to alert security, he will kill you.”

  Fuck. I sure as shit didn’t want Alex placed in any danger, yet I longed for some sort of help. I knew if he came up here, though, he’d do something heroic like exchange himself for me and that didn’t seem like a good solution. As I tried to assess the situation, I noticed the guy holding me seemed nervous; he was sweating profusely and there was a slight tremor in the hand that held the knife. Hoping inexperience caused his skittishness rather than just bloodthirsty edginess, and that he didn’t understand English, I tried to force my thoughts out to Wyxinorolyxazam. “I’m going bend. Rush him when I’m free”. The asshole glanced around a little, as if he was wondering where the voice came from, but if he understood what I was mentally projecting it didn’t cause him to tighten his grip. With an almost imperceptible nod, Alex’s father let me know he was in on the plan. “On three. One. Two. Three!”

  I crushed my heel onto the top of Asshole’s foot — thank God I decided to wear heeled boots today — and simultaneously used my magic to transform. The contact made him bellow in pain. Good, I hope I broke your damn foot. I’m pretty sure he also tried to slit my throat, but by the time he got around to slicing, I was already flying to the balcony above. The king barreled into him with the athletic grace and power of a defensive end, the impact knocking them both to the floor as the knife skittered across the marble tiles.

  The assailant got in one good punch to the king’s jaw before Alex’s father lifted up and raised his right hand. I could feel magic building, and if the king’s scrunched face and red cheeks were any indication, he was expending a crap-load of arcane energy trying to subdue the creep. Flying down, I snagged the knife in my talons and brought it back to my perch. Now that I got a good look at it, the blade was way bigger than it seemed when it was against my flesh. I gulped, thankful that I hadn’t realized how gargantuan the damn thing was before I pulled my stomp and bend stunt.

  At the same instant, the plain-clothed guard I had noticed earlier rushed in to help his sovereign. Whatever additional magic he brought did the trick, and Asshole was overpowered. Once the attacker was restrained with a pair of handcuffs that seemed to appear out of nowhere, the guard spoke into his wrist, either via magic or some communication device I couldn’t see, to let his compatriots know what was up. Those tasks completed, he helped the king to his feet and gave him a quick once over to make certain Wyxinorolyxazam was alright.

  Asshole lay motionless on his back. He was conscious, but apparently unable to move. From my vantage point one floor up, I could now tell he wasn’t an actual Royal Guard, his attire was subtly different from an authentic uniform. The blue wasn’t exactly right and the jacket was poorly made. But it obviously was similar enough to allow him to move about the palace unnoticed.

  Alex’s father lifted his head and scanned the railings that encircled the library. When he found me, his face lit up with a dazzling smile. Now I know where Alex gets it from, I thought. If I had lips, I would have returned the delighted look but settled for what I hoped would be interpreted as joyous relief, a loud “irrp” call. I flitted down and, with great care to not poke Wyxinorolyxazam with my sharp talons, perched on his broad shoulder.

  Turning his head to me, he gushed, “Excellent job, Hailey. You are quite cool under pressure.” He leaned a bit closer. “One doesn’t get much opportunity for such physicality as king consort. Taking that miscreant down was extraordinarily satisfying,” he gleefully admitted.

  “It was kind of awesome, wasn’t it?” I agreed. The rush was truly exhilarating; gut-wrenching terror followed by almost orgasmic satisfaction. This must be why Alex and Sebastian get off on the whole Xyzok gig.

  We moved off to one side when the room filled with guards. A handful planted themselves firmly in front of the king while the rest helped take charge of the prisoner. Loud voices could be heard coming from outside the library and with my birdy-senses, I knew one was Alex’s. Wyxinorolyxazam and I were not readily visible when he charged into the room, and he frantically scanned the crowded room searching for us. Once he finally laid eyes on his father and me, the tension in his face melted away.

  “They told us you were both safe, but I had to see for myself.” Alex held the king’s shoulders protectively as he scanned him for any obvious injuries. Satisfied Wyxinorolyxazam was unscathed, he offered me his arm. I hopped over and he curled his forearm to his chest, bringing me close. Leaning my head to his cheek, I rubbed across the stubble with affectionate contentment.

  “Forget to shave this morning, Blondie?”

  He let out a relieved sigh and I could actually hear him close his eyes. “If anything had happened to you, I don’t know what I would have done.”

  “You should have seen her,” Wyxinorolyxazam beamed, and proceeded to give an account of what transpired. When the king described how I transformed before he bowled over the attacker, Alex made him repeat that part again.

  Alex pushed his arm out so he could look me in the eye. “You sent my father a mental plan and then changed into your bird form on purpose?” he grimaced. “What if the assailant understood English? What if it didn’t work and he killed you? Or my father?” Alex glanced back and forth between me and Wyxinorolyxazam, as if his “what the hell were you two thinking” expression was going to make our answers any more appealing.

  In lieu of a hearty harrumph — which is difficult to pull off with a beak — I flapped my wings to indicate my exasperation. “He didn’t speak English, and it all worked out fine. He wanted you, and there was no way I was going to let you march up here and get killed.”

  “Carisa,” he began softly, “I am trained for just that sort of situation. You two, on the other hand, are not. Please promise me that you — both of you — will never do anything that foolish again.”

  His father and I begrudgingly gave our word, but when Alex wasn’t looking, the king gave me a conspiratorial smirk. We watched as the guards lifted Asshole to his shaky feet and Alex, with me still perched on his arm, advanced toward him until we were only a few feet away. When their eyes met, the deep-seeded animosity of the assailant was evident to everyone in the room.

  Now that he was bound and without his knife, he didn’t look very tough. Medium build, medium height, medium length, mousey-brown hair. All in all, completely nondescript, with the exception of his eyes — one was brown and the other a deep green — but the heterochromia only accentuated the venomous hatred for Alex that shone through them.

  “Do you know him?” I enquired as Asshole was taken away.

  Alex paused before answering. “I don’t believe so,” he said finally. “But he clearly thinks I did something to him to warrant this degree of enmity. I’m sure it will all come out soon enough. Between the Royal Guard and the Xyzok, his interrogation will be quite thorough.”

  “Well, well,” Sebastian announced as he sauntered in with Hewlyxnathin and Tannis in tow. “I see we missed all the excitement.”

  Wyxinorolyxazam filled the newcomers in on what had happened, while Alex added occasional commentary about our foolhardiness. When the king was finished, Tannis gave him a big hug and reminded him he should go reassure Rexanatyxa that he was, indeed, in one piece.

  “Yes, how thoughtless of me. She must be frantic.” The king stopped and patted me on the head as he left the scene of the crime, surrounded by his guards.

  Hewlyxnathin sized me up before he spoke. Today he wore baggy canvas pants, a Grateful Dead t-shirt and a macramé headband. “You intentionally transformed? It wasn’t fear driven
?” he asked, eyes wide with wonder.

  “Oh, I was scared, but I stopped the initial terror-inspired compulsion to bend. Then I made myself shift forms at a more opportune moment.”

  “That is indeed remarkable,” Sebastian replied. “I understand overriding the fear response is difficult for even experienced Yterixa. For you to master this with such alacrity speaks volumes about the prodigiousness of my magic.”

  Hewlyxnathin snorted and added a derisive, “Or the proficiency of my teaching.”

  They glared at each other for a moment before Hewlyxnathin turned his attention back to me. “You must be exhausted.” As he spoke, he walked to where my clothes were piled and gingerly picked them up. “Looks like only your foot-ware survived this time,” he announced as he examined each item carefully. With my boots in hand, he looked at me with the same deliberate scrutiny he had employed on my wardrobe. “You really should hunt before you change back. If you don’t replenish, it will be much more difficult to change back and you will most certainly feel ill afterward.”

  Come to think of it, I was hungry. Ruffling my feathers, I hopped onto Alex’s shoulder. “Let’s go to the beach. I think I’m in the mood for sushi.”

  ~25~

  Being so close to the water, I thought I’d have no problem fishing for my pre-return-to-human snack. You know, soar around until I located some unsuspecting quarry, zip in, zip out, easy-peasy. Unfortunately, I failed to account for the fact that snagging something out of either the ocean or bay was a lot harder than it looked. First, I had trouble with depth perception through the water and kept misjudging how close the fish were to the surface. Second, it’s one thing to grab something in your talons when there’s solid ground underneath because your prey can only move laterally. It’s a whole hell of a lot harder when your target can also dip down. I missed a number of meal chances when I didn’t adequately account for the drop factor. Third, I was a hawk, not an eagle or an osprey. I don’t think I was built for fishing.