by M. L. Ryan
“We could wait for another large electrical storm and try to recreate the circumstances that sent us here,” Alex suggested. “Beyond that, your guess is as good as mine. Perhaps Ulut will have some ideas.”
“Do you think he knows he’s back?” I wondered.
“I’m not sure; I didn’t get a chance to ask him.”
“And what about the rest of the gang, how do you think they will take this unfortunate turn of events?”
Alex paused as he considered my question. “The Jyryxahal already are aware of two dimensions, so being in another probably won’t bother them too much. As for Deputy Cunningham, I suspect once she gets past the initial shock, she will embrace the experience.”
“Hopefully, that will improve her mood.”
“It would almost have to,” he observed. “We should get back. In unfamiliar territory, it is always best to keep together.”
And it doesn’t get more unfamiliar than this, I realized.
When we returned, Sebastian stood in front of the deputy, gesturing as he spoke. Cunningham’s crossed arms and sneer made it clear that whatever he was saying, she wasn’t buying any of it. As I edged closer, I realized Sebastian had begun the “talk.” Although the script was familiar, it wasn’t the soothing facts-of-interdimensional-life tale Alex revealed to me.
“…and thus, we are not human,” he ended abruptly.
Frowning, I leaned toward Alex and muttered, “If that’s the same version he gave Rachel, no wonder she hates me.”
“Oh no, that was quite gentle and caring. In this case, he’s going for the fast and furious rendition.”
“I suppose that makes sense. It’s not as though he likes the deputy or cares how she might react.”
“In truth, carisa, his style doesn’t reflect his feelings at all, rather those of the person he is speaking to. Rachel needed tenderness. Cunningham responds better to pragmatism. See?”
He gestured toward the deputy, and her stance was considerably less rigid, her eyes more than just skeptical slits. Not exactly wide-eyed with wonder, but it was a start. I was about to ask when the demo might commence when Sebastian flicked his hand and disappeared.
“Oh my god,” she gasped. “You weren’t yanking my chain. This is—this is fantastic!” She poked a finger into the spot where Sebastian had stood, gasping again. “You’re still right there,” she exclaimed, continuing to jab away. “I can still feel you.”
Sebastian’s hands reappeared, palms facing out. “Hold on, Agnes,” he commanded. “There will be more time for show and tell later, and I don’t know you well enough to allow you to continue touching that particular part of my anatomy.”
She quickly returned her own hands to her sides and had the courtesy to blush.
The effect of the disembodied hands and voice was creepy, but impressive. “Who is Agnes?” I wondered.
“That’s my first name,” Cunningham replied, looking none too happy at having to admit it. “How did you know that?” she inquired toward Sebastian’s hands. “All my identification lists initials only.”
Sebastian came into full view, looking oddly displeased. “I have many investigative means at my disposal. You may prefer to go by A.B., but your birth certificate says ‘Agnes Beulah’.”
I started to laugh. “Wait, your parent’s named you Agnes Beulah Cunningham? A.B.C? They didn’t think the Agnes and Beulah would cause you enough grief?”
She shot me a dirty look. “I was named after my grandmothers, but they are pretty atrocious. The names, not my nanas.”
They’re okay if you’re a dairy cow.
“My friends call me Annie,” she continued.
Does that mean she thinks we are friends? “What does everyone else call you?”
“Deputy Cunningham.”
Sighing, I asked, “What do you want us to call you?” I was getting tired of thinking up snarky names, but if I was lucky, maybe she’d let me address her as The Shrew.
“Annie or Agnes is fine,” she snipped.
The former definitely didn’t suit her. I pictured an Annie as someone lighthearted and bubbly, characteristics not likely associated with the deputy. I wasn’t sure I could call her that without gagging.
Alex leaned in and whispered, “You might want to go easy on her, carisa. We might be together a long time, and life will be easier if everyone gets along.”
I knew he was right, but it was tough to block out all her previous irritating behavior. Reluctantly, I agreed to be play nice with Deputy Agnes Dipshitingham. To her face, anyway.
Sebastian called the Jyryxahal over and gave them the low down on our current location. As predicted, they took the information in stride.
“That was easier than I anticipated,” Sebastian observed. “They are content to be with ‘The Hailey’.”
Grimacing, I blurted, “They call me, ‘The Hailey’?”
“I quite like it,” a familiar male voice commented from behind me. “I may take to calling you that myself.”
Ulut leaned on one of the nearby boulders and offered a weary grin. I ran over and flung my arms around his neck, overjoyed he was, once again, bipedal and standing.
“Careful, The Hailey,” he protested, swaying slightly from my overzealous greeting. “I’m not fully recovered.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but if you ever refer to me as, ‘The Hailey,’ again, you’ll spend the rest of your life recovering.”
He gave me a little squeeze. “I’ll keep that in mind, but I know you’re bluffing. A woman who so gently unmatted my fur could never harm me.”
“You should be thankful I never had to express your anal glands,” I grumbled.
His confidence in my innate altruism seemed to waver for a second. “I will keep that in mind.”
“Do you know where we are?” Alex queried, changing the subject.
“Yes. As soon as I came to, I sensed we were in Dekankara. Of course,” he added with a coy smile, “being a man was a tip-off as well.”
Agnes’ gaze raked up and down Ulut. “You were the dog.” It wasn’t a question, but the slow shake of her head made it clear she had a hard time taking it all in. “I don’t know what to feel right now. I’m thrilled and overwhelmed at the same time.”
“I know the feeling,” I said, nodding. “After a while, you’ll get used to nothing making sense and just go with the flow.”
She gave me the same piercing scrutiny she probably saved for unapologetic speeders or jaywalkers. “So what about you? Are you from Coursodonia as well?
I took her arm and guided her to a spot that looked moderately comfortable. “It’s Coursodon, and no, I’m not.” Sitting down, I patted the ground next to me. “Have a seat, it’s a long story.”
For the next half hour, I recounted my tale. She interrupted a few times, but for the most part, she listened silently. When I finished, she exclaimed, “I knew that feather wasn’t misidentified!” She paused for a moment and tilted her head in thought. “When we get back, I’m definitely buying a Kindle.”
I explained my eBook reader experience was not likely to ever be repeated, but she insisted no matter how long the odds, if it could happen once, it could happen again. Given that mindset, she probably was a regular lottery player, too.
“I still don’t understand why I could feel Sebastian when he was invisible.”
“The magic makes him visually undetectable, but he’s still there.” She blinked. Apparently, my answer did nothing to clear up her confusion. “As I understand it,” I continued, “Courso magic often alters perception of an object or event, but it doesn’t necessarily make physical changes. One exception that I’m aware of is healing, but I’m no expert. You’ll have to quiz Alex or Sebastian for more details.”
She nodded, but judging from her still-furrowed brows, my teaching skills left something to be desired. I decided to change the subject, sort of.
“You know, you will have to keep all of this to yourself. Otherwise, someone will have to
alter your memory.”
“Yeah, Sebastian made that perfectly clear. I think his exact words were, ‘I can make you forget who you are, not just the events and circumstances you discovered tonight’.”
I didn’t believe Sebastian would make good on the threat. He’d erase the knowledge of Coursodon and Dekankara in a heartbeat, but to muddle her brain in other ways was harsh, even for him. On the other hand, I didn’t trust Agnes to keep her mouth shut. A dose of verbal strong-arming was likely the right call.
While the deputy and I reviewed Inter-Dimensionality 101, Sebastian, Alex, and Ulut conferred nearby. From the few bits and pieces I overheard, the discussion centered on what to expect, and avoid, while we were stuck here. And frankly, the little I did catch didn’t sound good.
14
According to Ulut, our biggest challenge was finding a place to hole up until the next big storm. For one night, our current locale would suffice, but we’d have to find a place with food and a reliable source of water. Alex’s pack was still on Babo—he’d removed it while he was in the notch, and only the items on our persons made the jump to Dekankara—and in it was the extra water and energy snacks. Not that we brought a lot of food, as we didn’t expect to need more than what we might eat in one night. Now, we had only one dark chocolate bar and a small bag of shelled peanuts. The water situation was not much better as the deputy and my followers came decidedly unprepared for a long hike, much less our unexpected journey to the unknown.
Had we been in another, less volatile region, we might be able to pass ourselves off as weary travelers and find refuge in a nearby town. I imagined visiting a pub where simple yet hardy scullery maids served simple yet hearty meals and offered rooms for rent. Unfortunately, the local warlord despised strangers and any hope of finding hospitable public accommodations was remote. Ulut hoped we might coax a villager to allow us to camp surreptitiously on their property, and I abandoned my fantasy of a Middle Earth-inspired inn for the possibility of roughing it in the yard of some kindly family willing to risk punishment or death for giving us a place to stay.
It was too bad we couldn’t just cloak ourselves. I’d heard many reported hauntings in the human dimension were actually magically shrouded Courso squatting in occupied homes, but in our merry band only Sebastian, Alex, and the Jyryxahal had the chops to do that, and only for a limited amount of time under the best of circumstances. Since Sebastian had trouble making more than his hands disappear during his chat with Agnes, there was reason to believe that achieving total invisibility in this dimension could be problematical even for them.
As we began to settle in for the night, Ulut pointed out yet another quandary that demanded addressing: Our dress.
“We have to find something else for you, Agnes, and the female Jyryxahal to wear,” he stated, frowning at my jeans. “Here, women are never seen in pants.”
Agnes was indignant. “That’s ridiculous.”
“It may be, but no one in this dimension knows there are others, and we don’t want to do anything to call attention to ourselves. We all should look like Dekankarans.”
“I suspect our clothes won’t be the only thing that sets us apart,” Alex pointed out. “We don’t speak the language or know the customs.”
Ulut nodded. “Correct. I will do my best to educate you as much as I can, but I can only do so much. That is why, as much as possible, everyone should be seen but not heard, and another reason why we need to find skirts.”
“Can’t you just magic us up some?” Agnes scowled.
“No, Deputy, it does not work that way,” Sebastian countered. “We could make it appear that you were dressed appropriately, but only for a short time, and it would be a waste of magical energy. New garments are a necessity.”
It was good the darkness prevented her from noticing my eye roll. Who uses “magic” as a flippin’ verb? Was she not listening when I went over that part about cloaking magic being illusion?
For the sake of group harmony, I kept my annoyance to myself, on this matter, anyway. “Can someone ask my groupies what their actual names are? Every time I hear, ‘Jyryxahal,’ it reminds me that these crazies think I’m divine.”
Alex turned around to address them. In response, the leader pointed to each as she rattled off their names, but the only one I understood was hers: Bex. The others were typically Courso: polysyllabic and laden with so many Xs and Js that I decided to call them by the first letters only. The men became T, W, and Z, and the remaining woman, V. They didn’t even seem to mind their new truncated monikers, but I guessed when the object of your misplaced religious fervor gives out a nickname, you didn’t complain.
We divvied up the scant food supply, which amounted to a single bite of the chocolate bar and a small handful of peanuts each. Ten nuts for ten nuts, I thought as I popped my share into my mouth. Once our “meal” was finished, everyone attempted to find a comfortable spot to bed down. Fortunately, the temperature was mild—I used my jacket over the helmet as a pillow—but between the hard ground and my grumbling stomach, sleep was elusive.
Not so for Alex. Familiar with roughing it on Xyzok missions, he dropped off about thirty seconds after he lay down. His steady, soft breaths seemed to mock me while I tossed and turned. I considered waking him to ask if he could administer a magical sleep aid, but he looked so peaceful, I couldn’t bring myself to rouse him. Instead, I stared up into the clear, dark sky and counted stars until I finally crashed.
I woke before full sunrise, when the soft light of pre-dawn illuminated the world enough so you knew it was no longer night, but it was still too dark to really see anything. It was even too early for the birds to start their morning chatter, but I was stiff, unrested, and desperately had to pee.
My biggest beef with camping was the inevitable situation where you dropped trou and squatted, only to have some random hiker tromp right past what you thought was a secluded spot. All you could do was feign indifference while you tinkled away, but it was embarrassing for everyone involved. I didn’t want anyone to see me in that situation almost as much as I didn’t want to see anyone else mooning me. Given the size of our group, privacy was next to impossible while everyone was awake and the pre-dawn gloom seemed like the perfect time to do my business without getting caught with my pants down.
Quietly, I disentangled myself from Alex and went in search of the perfect outdoor latrine. While cactus mixed with chaparral graced the bottom of Waw kiwalik, close to the summit, oak, walnut, and pinyon pine predominated. The same was true on Dekan-Babo and the taller vegetation near the top of the mountain made for better cover, with the added benefit of no prickly spines from desert plants. I found exactly what I required about forty feet down from our makeshift campsite: a copse of trees without much snake-camouflaging, low brush in between.
As I prepared for my morning constitutional, a small rabbit hopped on a nearby fallen branch. Before my jeans were around my ankles, two more arrived and settled next to the first.
“Nice to know my animal magnetism works in this dimension,” I remarked, deciding small talk was appropriate under the circumstances. “You guys live around here?”
The cottontails merely twitched their noses in response. By the time I emptied my bladder, a buck and a couple squirrels wandered over to join the party.
As I stood to zip up, my audience stiffened. I thought my movement startled them, but instead of staring at me, their attention focused on something to my right. The animals abruptly scattered, disappearing into the brush.
“Damn, I almost got one,” Agnes muttered, stalking closer and still pointing her gun in the general direction of where the cottontails had fled.
I pushed her hand—and the weapon—away. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
She looked at me as if I was completely insane. “We have nothing to eat, and rabbit or venison sounds pretty tasty right now.”
“Remember last night, when I told you animals are attracted to me because I’m Yterixa?”<
br />
She tucked the Glock into her waistband. “Yeah, that’s why I followed you. What are you, a vegetarian?” she added, furrowing her brow.
For a second, I thought my head might explode. In deference to Alex’s suggestion to keep the peace, I took a deep, calming breath before I ended up smacking the shit out of her. “No, but I’d rather starve than kill an animal that was drawn in by my magic.”
She patted her still-perfect bun and muttered under her breath, “Speak for yourself.”
And just like that, slugging was again a viable option. I started to pull back my arm when Alex crashed through the brush.
“I heard yelling. Is everything okay?”
No. Deputy Crappingham almost blew away a poor, defenseless critter that was just paying its regards.
“She tried to kill an animal using my wildlife allure as bait.”
“For food,” she countered, taking a step closer. “Not for fun.”
Alex stepped in front of me and turned sideways, extending his arms to keep Calamity Agnes and me as far apart as possible.
“Let’s take this argument down a notch.” His fingertips settled on my shoulder and transferred a tendril of calming magic. He must have done the same thing to her, judging by the softening of her surly expression. I’d have preferred a nice shot of tequila, but one had to make do with what was available. The remedy was followed by an unexpected, slight burning sensation, which Alex must have noticed as well, because he frowned before addressing the deputy.
“Agnes, guns do not exist in this dimension. From now on, you must keep that hidden in your pack,” Alex warned. “We don’t know if any Dekankarans are close by. Had you discharged your weapon, the noise could have alerted them to our presence, and we’d like to avoid a confrontation if at all possible.”
She glared at him for a moment, but must have realized he was right, because she lowered her chin and shuffled her feet.
I gave myself a mental high five. Ha! Take that, bitch.