Special Passage (The Coursodon Dimension Book 4)

by M. L. Ryan

  Alex stifled a laugh. “She does tend to be a bit abrupt.”

  “No kidding. It’s one thing to have poor interpersonal skills,” I huffed, “but I won’t tolerate harassment of poor, defenseless poultry. You’d think she was dealing with convicted felons in a maximum-security prison. Plus, the hens don’t produce as many eggs when she’s around. I think they are afraid of her.”

  “I think I’m afraid of her,” he joked. “However, she should do her fair share.”

  “It’s not that she’s slacking, but everyone benefits if her assignments involve no contact with sentient beings.”

  Alex and I set out the next afternoon with some rudimentary poles, an open-weaved, covered basket to keep our catch fresh in the water, and a fabric bag filled with earthworms for bait. Gera’s directions were clear and concise, and we made it to our destination in about an hour.

  The river turned out to be more of a stream. Or maybe a creek; I could never keep the differences straight. In any case, it was only about twenty-feet wide with a leisurely current and an abundance of fish. It didn’t take long to fill the container with ten-inch-long, bi-colored fish, whose most unique characteristic was their lower lips, which were about three times as thick as the uppers. Gera told us before we left they were Erglimdit, which Ulut translated as “sucker fish,” but I called them pouters.

  Once we’d caught enough to feed eleven people, we wandered down the stream until we found a wider section with a deep pool in the center. I stripped off my clothes and waded into the water, Alex following close behind. We brought a small chunk of soap—a precious commodity according to our host—and scrubbed ourselves from scalp to toenails. The cleanser, homemade using a mixture of lye and melted animal fat, didn’t lather and smelled like goat, but the crust of dirt that covered my body since we arrived was removed. The first few layers of my epidermis were likely missing as well, but the sacrifice of some skin was worth it.

  After the bath, we grabbed our discarded clothes and scoured them, too. Like our bodies, it was amazing how much grunge came from fabric when there was enough water to rinse thoroughly. We hung the garments on nearby tree branches and ventured back into the relaxing pool.

  The center of the stream was too deep for me to stand with my head above water, so I had to either float or swim. Alex, almost a foot taller than me, had no such problems. He planted himself in the middle and watched me paddle around him.

  “You know, carisa,” Alex drawled, interrupting my circuits by pulling me toward him. “This is the first time we’ve been alone in weeks.”

  He dipped his head and captured my lips with his. Even though we slept next to each other each night, between the exhausting work and the constant roommates, it had been a while since we enjoyed any kind of meaningful physical interlude. Until that moment, I was unaware how truly stressed I was, but every unrecognized, knotted muscle relaxed with that one deep, delicious kiss. I was clean, wrapped in the arms of the man I adored, and about to fulfill my long-held fantasy of getting some while in a natural body of water. Not the ocean of my dreams, but it was close enough.

  Alex moved one hand to cup my cheek, while the other strayed to my breast. Damn, it felt good, and so did he. I reached down to stroke his arousal, and he moaned when my fingers teased the tip. Much as I loved the intricacies of foreplay, now was not the time for delayed gratification. My libido, held in check for so long out of necessity, grime, and anxiety, ignited and I wrapped my legs around his waist and guided him home. With my hands digging into his shoulders and his supporting my ass, I thrust against him in a frenzy of lust and pent-up tension. I didn’t last long, crying out with the unfettered abandon that only someone having hot sex in the middle of nowhere can accomplish without fear of the neighbors calling the police. Alex climaxed with me, and we clung to each other, breathing hard and relishing the moment.

  Once able to form a coherent sentence, I murmured, “That was amazing,” into his ear. “Nice to see transcendental arousal is alive and well here in Dekankara.”

  Alex pulled his head back slightly to look at me. “What are you talking about?” he said, clearly confused. “I didn’t try to use TA.”

  I was baffled. About halfway through, I experienced a quite pleasurable sensation in a rather sensitive region of my undercarriage. Since both Alex’s hands were otherwise occupied holding me around his waist, I figured he must have added his magical talents to the mix. “If that wasn’t you, then what where those little flicks?”

  We both looked down into the stream. Swimming around us was a school of pouters, so many, in fact, we could have filled our basket with one sweep through the water. With a combination of fascination and horror, I realized what I felt must have been the fish’s oversized lips brushing against me.

  “Ew,” I spat, disengaging myself from Alex and backing up toward the bank.

  Alex regarded the fish as they moved to circle me in my new location. “I’m not sure you thinking that was me is a compliment,” he complained.

  “I just thought your skills were a little off in the third dimension, you know, less accurate. It never occurred to me we had an audience, much less an interactive one.”

  “Look over there,” he said, pointing to the opposite side of the creek.

  Lined up three deep was an assortment of turtles and frogs, all apparently attracted by my Yterixa-ness. That, or Dekankaran reptiles and amphibians enjoyed watching people get it on in their stream. Either way, I decided I’d had enough.

  “I’m getting out,” I announced, climbing back onto dry land. Grabbing a square of thick fabric usually used as a tablecloth, I spread it on the ground and sat down. I was glad I’d thought to bring it; our clothes couldn’t possibly be dry yet, and I didn’t want to plunk my naked butt in the dirt.

  Alex spent a few more minutes watching as the fish first followed me to the bank, and then dispersed when they no longer sensed me in the water. When he finally joined me, he had to maneuver past the frogs that emerged from the stream after I came out.

  “I wonder why you didn’t attract a posse while we were fishing?” he wondered.

  “Got me.” I shrugged. “But, I haven’t really been drawing critters much at Gera’s either.” The number of animals attracted to me decreased significantly since the first day when Agnes tried to use me to hunt for food. “Maybe my crud covering masks my inner animal.”

  “Or perhaps your essence is transmitted best through liquid instead of the air here.”

  That actually seemed like a plausible explanation, but the theory was easy enough to test. “We’ll know if I am suddenly inundated with wild visitors when we get back to Gera’s, and they go away after I’ve had a few days to re-ripen.” Now that I was thinking about experimentation, I had another question. “Have you tried any magic here yet?”

  “Some, but now is probably as good a time as any to continue.” Alex glanced at our clothes, still dripping as they hung from the tree. “At this rate, they will never dry,” he observed. With a small twist of his hand, the garments began to flutter as a steady breeze picked up around them.

  I admired his effort. “Well, that worked. How about something more badass?”

  He shifted his gaze, and a small bush about ten feet away burst into flames.

  “All right,” I shouted, raising my palm for a congratulatory high five.

  Alex ignored my proffered hand. “I was trying to break off a branch from the tree next to it.” He scowled. “Obviously, I’m going to need more practice.”

  It was disconcerting his aim was off, but given the unexpected quirks of Ulut and Keem’s magic when out of dimension, one could expect Courso powers to be equally unpredictable in Dekankara. As I perused the now-smoldering shrub and the neighboring tree, I noticed something I hadn’t before.

  “Good thing you missed,” I said, pointing to the targeted but still intact branch. “Check out what’s lounging there.”

  Well camouflaged with the bark and the foliage, a big cat lay stre
tched out in the “V” created by the bifurcated trunk. It was huge—bigger than a mountain lion—and if my recollections of the wildlife biology course I took as an undergrad were correct, the dark, rosette-shaped spots across its tawny fur identified it as a jaguar. I’d never seen one in the wild; they were once abundant predators in Southern Arizona before their habitat became limited. Now, only a few prowled the mountains near the Mexican border. In Dekankara, where human encroachment was minimal, and technology about two hundred years behind ours, the cats probably roamed in good numbers. It wore the bored indifference common to all felines, big or small, and seemed completely unconcerned with both the ebbing flames and us.

  I was about to point out how lucky we were to see one up close and personal when Alex suddenly rolled on top of me and kissed me. Hard. Not that I minded the unexpected show of desire, but generally Alex’s amorous advances were way smoother.

  “We aren’t alone,” he whispered into my lips.

  “Of course not,” I protested. “I just showed you the jag.”

  Alex shifted from my mouth to my ear. “Shh, I’m not talking about that. Someone is hiding in the copse to our left.”

  I wasn’t exactly sure how to react to this news. There we were, naked, just having finished a rather spirited sexual encounter, and he told me someone was watching. The fish were bad enough; I was hardly pleased to discover someone with a more advanced brain was gawking at us. However, since Alex wasn’t leaping to action, I decided to take his lead and go with the flow.

  “Based on their magical signature, it is no one I know,” he continued, brushing his lips against mine. “But they are definitely Courso.”

  The only Courso in the third dimension besides Alex were Sebastian and the Jyryxahal, and Alex knew all their signatures. I nibbled on his earlobe and murmured, “Who the hell is it, then?”

  Gazing into my eyes, he sighed. “I don’t know, but it’s time we got back.” The last part he said loud enough for anyone to hear.

  Alex rolled off me, and I flipped onto my stomach to obtain some semblance of modesty. I was pretty sure our peeper had already seen everything there was to see, but I felt less vulnerable that way.

  “Do we really have to leave so soon?” I complained, adding a fish-like pout to appear both nonchalant and flirty, but it may have come across as whiny. Not that it really mattered, as it was all an act.

  Alex tossed me my clothes, grabbed his, and pulled them on. “Much as I’d like to make love to you again, we should get our catch back for dinner.”

  I desperately wanted to get dressed without changing position, but we wanted our stalker to remain unaware we knew he was there, and nobody shimmied into their clothes while lying face down. Reluctantly, I stood and put on my skirt and top, hoping the entire time I managed to hide my discomfort, if not my privates.

  It occurred to me if Alex were reluctant to take on the mystery stalker because his magic wasn’t reliable, it would be great if the jaguar came to our rescue and chased him away. Too bad I can only project my wishes while I’m a hawk, I thought ruefully. Having the third-largest wild feline as a bodyguard would be a nice Yterixa perk right now.

  Just as I laced up my boots, the cat growled—deep, menacing, like the chesty cough of a long-time smoker—and leapt off his branch. He sprinted toward us, and I braced for the inevitable takedown by two-hundred pounds of enraged predator. Alex placed his body in front of mine, and while appreciating the gesture, I had a feeling we were both done for unless his magical weaponry worked better than it had moments ago. I even tried to conjure up my own zapature, but everything happened so fast, there just wasn’t enough time.

  Much to my amazement, the cat swept past us and continued into the trees to where Alex thought the interloper hid. I’d have to test it out on a larger sample to be sure, but it seemed in this dimension, I was able to communicate human to critter. As the jag’s long, spotted tail disappeared into the dense brush, I swore I heard a shriek, and it didn’t come from the cat.

  16

  To the casual observer, Alex’s outward appearance showed nothing of his inner angst, but as we made our way back to Gera’s, I had no doubt he was pissed. If the near death-grip on my hand wasn’t indication enough, the little vein in his temple looked like it was about to burst out of his skin. Our pace was brisk, but the path circuitous, and occasionally Alex would pause—ostensibly to remove a pebble from his shoe, or examine a trailside flower—when, in fact, each stoppage allowed him to determine if we were being pursued.

  “He’s gone,” he declared finally. “We can take a more direct route back.” His relief was palpable, literally, as I once again had normal circulation in my fingers, but his years of Xyzok training made him reluctant to let down his guard completely. “Let us not tarry.”

  Just as fury made his facial vasculature bulge, the formal language was an additional tell for his extreme unease.

  “Did you think he was still following us? Whoever was there, our feline friend made sure he was otherwise occupied.” Or lunch.

  Alex’s gaze strafed the area. “Yes, the jaguar provided timely aid, but it was foolish of me to be so complacent. It put you in harm’s way; such inattention is inexcusable. Let’s continue on.”

  Not only was Alex going all retro-verbage, but his alpha-male side was peeking through as well. He was generally such a modern, evolved kind of guy that it was easy to forget the well-developed machismo lurking just under the surface. In deference to his he-go, I kept the inter-species confab to myself for the time being. By the set of his jaw, and his insistence I walk no further than two feet away from him at all times, I knew my contribution to our escape could wait until we made it back to the farm and he ramped down the hyper-vigilance.

  Upon arrival, we handed over the pouters for dinner prep. While Agnes methodically gutted the fish and tossed them to the Jyryxahal for seasoning and grilling, Alex and I recounted our afternoon’s adventures—minus the nooky—to Sebastian and Ulut. This was a debriefing, but no one else had to know I’d already been debriefed.

  Sebastian sat, arms crossed and brow furrowed, as Alex finished the tale. “That is, indeed, disquieting,” he said after a moment of silent contemplation. “Let us discuss the possibilities: One, the magic Alex sensed was actually from a Dekankaran.”

  “It felt like Courso magic, but the only Dekankaran magic I’ve experienced is from Ulut, who doesn’t have much,” Alex admitted, his normal calm returning. As I anticipated, with backup available, his personal Homeland Security alert status dropped from red to a more tolerable orangey-yellow.

  “And Keem,” I added. If anyone would be a Peeping Tom, it would be that dream-invading wacko.

  “This was most definitely not Keem.”

  “Yeah, but his powers were magnified in Courso. That’s why he was so destructive there. Here, he was only moderately endowed; maybe his signature would be unrecognizable.”

  Ulut nodded. “It is true, his magical trace could seem quite different, but you are forgetting the obvious, Hailey. Keem is dead.”

  He had a point. On the other hand, no one actually saw him die or found any trace of his remains. Keem just disappeared, and we surmised he’d expired because the stone egg he gave me went cold.

  “Oh shit, the egg!” I shouted, suddenly remembering I had it with me. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Running to the barn, I rooted through my pack until I found Billman’s basket. I opened the little cover, pulled out Keem’s egg, and returned.

  Alex eyed me with equal parts curiosity and concern. “Where did you go, carisa?”

  I opened my hand and showed them the blue and white stone. “I brought this along, but it’s not warm. Keem must really be dead.”

  “Now that we have established the deceased Dekankaran is, indeed, deceased,” Sebastian complained, “shall we move on?”

  I hated when he used that imperious tone with me. It always made me want to apologize, even when I hadn’t done anything wrong. “Hey
, I just wanted to make sure,” I griped, stuffing the egg into my pocket.

  He lifted one brow and continued. “Possibility number two: The interloper is Courso, but if so, how did he get here?”

  We bandied about various ideas, the most plausible being someone else could have figured out how to breech the veil that shrouded the third dimension. After all, if we found a way in, and Keem found a way out, we couldn’t discount that others had done the same.

  In the end, we didn’t come to any conclusions concerning the stalker’s origins or intentions. I was particularly fond of the second option, as it seemed the least sinister. If the peeping Tom believed he was the only Courso in town, discovering another might make him wonder how we got there, just as we were debating about him. Maybe he was simply assessing the situation, not spying or lying in wait. Or maybe he was just enjoying the show. Either way, it explained why he might not just jump out and introduce himself. Ulut pointed out the same could be said for a Dekankaran, but Alex remained convinced the culprit was Courso and up to no good. According to Sebastian, the specifics of who and where from were of little importance if Tom was now being slowly digested by our friendly neighborhood jaguar.

  Despite the drama, the pouters turned out to be delicious. Gera insisted the oversized bottom lips were the best part, but I found them too fatty for my taste and stuck to the mild, flaky meat instead. Vigilance was required to avoid the abundance of small bones, but picking them out provided a much-needed distraction from the afternoon’s travails.

  Because we supplied the fish, Alex and I got a reprieve from post-dinner cleanup. As we settled into the barn for the night, I took advantage of our temporary solitude to fill him in on the information I’d kept to myself.

  “You mentally sicced the cat on Tom?” he asked, rolling onto his side to face me. While his use of my nickname for the stalker amused me, his tone seemed too even, almost artificially so.

  “Yes, but I didn’t do it on purpose. I just had a fleeting thought, and the next thing I knew, he acted on it. At least, that’s how it seemed.”