by M. L. Ryan
Luckily, my impersonation of the idle rich ended when my Yterixa guru arrived. I saw him from the window in the sunroom as he waited in one of the gardens for me to join him. I’m not sure what I expected, but the guy that showed up looked more like a middle-aged hippie than the “world’s authority on form-bending,” as Sebastian billed him. From the long, scraggly salt-and-pepper colored hair and matching beard to the bandana headband, Hewlyxnathin needed only a tie-dyed t-shirt to complete the Woodstock vibe. He even wore sandals. If he had whipped out a sitar and a blunt, I would have called it a day.
Alex and Sebastian assured me that Hewlyxnathin could teach me everything I needed to know about being Yterixa, and they both had complete confidence in his abilities. After a lot of gentle coaxing from Alex and some vigorous badgering from Sebastian, I reluctantly trudged out to meet the master.
He was slouching on a small wrought-iron bench, head bowed. At first, I thought he might be asleep, but as I got within about 10 feet of where he sat, he said in a commanding tone, “Hailey.” He didn’t even lift his head or move in any way as he addressed me.
This dude’s good. I wonder if he can sense my inner bird or something. “How did you know it was me?” I asked, trying to hide the wonder in my voice as best I could.
Hewlyxnathin sat up straighter, looked directly into my eyes and smiled. “Who else would be out here? Did you think I could detect your inner animal?”
“Uh, maybe. But now I’m more concerned that you can read my mind.”
“Don’t fret. Mind reading is one of the few abilities the Courso lack.” He patted the space next to him, and as I sat down he added, “And a good thing, too. No one wants other people picking around in their thoughts. I simply guessed what you might be thinking; it’s a fairly common concern when one meets another Yterixa for the first time.”
“You are Yterixa?”
“Of course,” he declared. “Alexander and Sebastian didn’t mention that? What an oversight. Of course I can transform. They are too intelligent to leave your education to a theoretical Yterixa. In this case, the adage ‘Those who can, do; those who cannot, teach’ could not be farther from the truth.”
I don’t know why I was surprised that the boys would spring for the real deal to guide me. It was comforting to know that I would be able to ask Hewlyxnathin more than just basic stuff. He knew what it really felt like to change. I inadvertently shuddered as I recalled the disconcerting and somewhat painful inside-out sensation that had accompanied the transformation. And the queasiness when I changed back.
“Is it always so…uncomfortable?” Please say no, please say no.
“It’s never a picnic, but you’ll get used to it eventually. The change uses a good deal of energy, however, so you will require extra caloric intake at each stage. If you neglect to attend to the heightened nutritional needs, you are more likely to get sick to your stomach.”
“I suppose it was too much to ask for it to feel like a Swedish massage,” I muttered under my breath. “So, you can’t just tell if someone is a form-bender?”
“Not unless I see them transform. Of course,” he said, winking, “once that happens the cat’s pretty much out of the bag, so to speak. Now, I’m sure you must have more questions.” He spread his arms wide. “Let me have ‘em.”
Since the night I first sprouted feathers, the questions that needed answers grew exponentially. I was afraid that I might not remember them all, so I started to write them down. I’d been keeping a small notebook with me and when a new thought popped into my head, I’d scribble it down. Unfortunately, some of the stuff I’d written while only half-awake in the middle of the night was completely unreadable, but I still had a pretty long list. I pulled the notebook out of my pocket and opened it to the first of many pages. Hewlyxnathin looked at my scrawlings with amusement, but encouraged me to proceed with a small nod and a wave of his hand.
I took a deep breath. “Okay, why did I transform when I did?”
“As I understand it, you and your companions were being attacked. Fear and anger are the two most common triggers for the initial change. And being in this dimension no doubt intensified the form-bending ability. The adrenaline rush from the assault triggered a classic fight or flight response, but the Yterixa in you made you actually take wing.”
That wasn’t great news, although I kind of suspected that my deep-seated survival instincts prompted the transformation. But, shit; first I had to control my anger to keep from destroying stuff, now I was going to have to worry about suddenly turning into a bird when I was angry or afraid. Hewlyxnathin seemed to understand my dismay, because he placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder and advised, “Don’t worry, you will learn to control it. Everyone does.”
“Why a bird?”
Hewlyxnathin shrugged. “It’s not clear what controls the form Yterixa take. Even within the same family, each person gifted with the ability may take a completely different form. Some believe the animal you become is tied to the creatures to which you are drawn.”
“So, a cat-hater would never turn into a feline?”
“Exactly. However, there is another school of thought that maintains it is completely random. After all, if you transformed into an animal you previously despised, you would likely lose your distaste once you had to live in its skin.”
I have always liked birds, but I could think of plenty of critters I’d rather be. Like a panther or a wolf; something that had the possibility of striking fear in others. At least I changed into a cool bird-of-prey and not some wimpy song bird. It would be humiliating to go through life as a titmouse.
“Do animals like to be around me because I’m Yterixa?” I gave him a short run-down of my adventures with wildlife in both dimensions. “I’m not calling them, they just seem to be drawn to me.”
“All Yterixa give out certain chemical signals that are attractive to other creatures; a bit like pheromones, except that the ‘communication’ extends across species. Given what you have described, you must exude more than usual.” He paused and looked skyward, seemingly deep in thought. “Of course,” he continued, “the animals in your dimension would have no prior experience with Yterixa, which might explain why you have not been followed by a beastly entourage here.”
I had a sudden urge to sniff under my arms. Good to know I was now spewing some funky fragrance that worked like a giant invite for the local wildlife to check out the new kid in town. At least I wasn’t oozing eau de bang me; I could only imagine what an over-production of sex pheromones might elicit from my visitors, and it wasn’t a pretty thought.
I changed the subject by asking, “What about the ability to transmit my thoughts? It was easy to do as a bird, but we discovered that I can do it — albeit with much more difficulty — in human form.”
He looked genuinely surprised at that bit of news. “How interesting. It is quite common for Yterixa to be able to communicate thoughts while transformed, but extraordinarily rare when not. Even I cannot do so when in my non-animal form.”
“What do you change into?” He was kind of tall and thin, so I pictured something sleek, like a cheetah or a stag.
Smiling proudly, he announced, “A beaver.” He chuckled at my surprised expression and added, “Not everyone gets to be something powerful or graceful. But I love the water and I am very good at building things out of wood, so it suits me.”
His eyes sparkled with mischief, and I wasn’t sure if he was teasing. In any event, I liked his laid-back attitude and sense of humor. I knew I’d be comfortable with Hewlyxnathin as my Yterixa mentor. I couldn’t imagine him ever losing his temper or making me feel like a fool. A far cry from some others who have tried to guide me through my magical paces. The more I thought about it, the more I was certain that Hewlyxnathin was the perfect teacher. He was, in fact, the anti-Kess.
“Any more questions, or should we let you try to spread your wings?”
I did have more to ask, but I was also antsy to get going with something mo
re practical. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” I declared, hoping I sounded less nervous than I felt.
Hewlyxnathin stood, and gestured for me to do the same. “Now, close your eyes and concentrate on my voice,” he began. “Imagine yourself morphing into your bird form. Picture your body compacting, and every cell rearranging. Your bones are becoming hollow, lighter.”
His voice was almost sedating; each syllable resonant and tranquil. Methodically, he described how the transformation would occur, how it would feel. At some point, I stopped being aware of what he was saying, yet my brain continued to form the mental images he must have been detailing. Finally, I pictured myself fully feathered, spreading my wings and taking flight.
Unfortunately, when I opened my eyes, I was standing next to the bench, still completely human. I glanced at my outstretched arms — the only indication that anything had sunk in — and quickly dropped them to my sides. I shot Hewlyxnathin a sheepish grin and hoped he wasn’t disappointed with my lackluster performance.
“That was excellent, Hailey. I could feel your magic intensifying. Don’t scrunch up your face like that,” he added, voice tinged with reassurance, “No one gets it on the first try.”
We repeated the exercise over and over, coming a little closer to successful transformation with each new attempt. Finally, as daylight began to fade, Hewlyxnathin announced we should call it a day.
“Once more,” I pleaded. “I was so close just now. I could swear I sprouted feathers.”
He reached into his pocket and produced a dark brown vane about six inches long. “Actually, just one.”
“Is that from me?” I blurted, wide-eyed and barely able to control the mounting excitement. When Hewlyxnathin nodded his head in affirmation, I announced, “We are so going again.”
“Alright, but this is the last for today. Wouldn’t want you to exhaust yourself.”
I took a deep breath and he launched into the guided visualizations. But, instead of concentrating on what he was saying, all I could think about was that feather. If I could muster up one, I knew I was capable of a complete bend.
I envisioned my body morphing into avian form with wings, talons and a beak replacing my arms, feet and nose. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world. And then, it happened. My body seemed to flip around on itself and as much of my body mass whooshed away, a slight prickly sensation across my skin announcing the emergence of feathers. Hewlyxnathin, now towering above me, clapped his hands with glee. The sound was so crisp, the pitch and volume were discernibly different between when his fingertips versus his fingers struck his palm. Glancing at his sandaled feet, I noticed each tiny crack in the flesh of his soles, counted each hair on his toes. Across the garden, I noticed movement in the lush grass; a small mouse scurried toward a flower bed perhaps 50 yards from where I stood. Yum. I actually started to salivate just thinking about snagging the varmint for a late afternoon snack.
To distract myself from the delicious morsel, I flapped my wings and without trying, I lifted off the ground. The cool air cascaded across the outstretched appendages as I unfurled them, the down-stroke powerful yet effortless. I flew up and up until Hewlyxnathin and the palace became specks beneath me. When I caught my first thermal, circling lazily in the warm updraft, I could swear I’d found heaven. I wasn’t afraid, even though I must have been hundreds of feet in the air. I realized as a human, I wasn’t really scared of heights, it was falling that freaked me out. As a hawk, I had no such worries. As if I had been doing this all my life, I knew deep down in every hollow, aerodynamic feather in my body that crashing to the ground wasn’t possible.
I was having so much fun, I almost forgot that Hewlyxnathin was waiting below. With great reluctance, I glided back to the garden and landed on the edge of the bench upon which we had previously been seated. I took a moment to preen — how I knew I needed to groom and rearrange my feathers was a mystery — and was delighted to discover that the combination of a large, hooked beak and an incredibly flexible neck allowed me to rotate my head and peck most of my upper back. Sweet. What a bonus to be able to scratch between your shoulder blades yourself.
While I was facing in that direction, I surveyed that end of my body. My plumage was mostly a rich, deep brown with lighter chestnut at the shoulders, but the under-tail and rump were white. Splaying out my tail for a better view, I thought, Crap, I hope these white feathers don’t make my butt look big.
“That is a difficult spot to scratch on your own and your hind quarters look fine,” Hewlyxnathin chuckled. “But you need to learn some discretion when it comes to thought projecting. It’s never a good idea for others to know everything one is thinking.”
I tried to frown, but without lips, it was tough to pull that off. I may have managed to scrunch my forehead a little, though. “I didn’t realize I was so loud.”
“It’s a common problem at first. Just remember to mentally whisper when you want to keep your thoughts to yourself. Eventually, you’ll get the hang of it and you’ll only transmit when you make a conscious effort to do so. Think about something but don’t try to push your thoughts out,” he advised. “I’ll let you know if you are successful.”
The problem with his request was one’s mind is never, not thinking. I intentionally projected, “Did you hear everything in my head the entire time I’ve been a bird?”
“No, just when we have been in close proximity. Now come on, try not to let me hear.”
For the next ten minutes or so, no matter what came into my mind, it went right to Hewlyxnathin. I paced back and forth across the bench. There has to be a way.
“Of course there is,” he replied serenely.
Son of a bitch.
“Actually, my mother transformed into a deer, not a canine.” He sighed and sat down next to me. “Instead of trying to not project, try keeping your thoughts private. I know it seems like it’s the same thing, but trust me, it’s not.”
I ruffled my feathers and hopped onto the back of the bench. But even my talons gripping the wrought-iron didn’t dissipate my growing frustration. In my head, I spewed out a string of cuss words. For some reason, I imagined the expletives within a cartoon-like speech balloon coming out of my head. Hewlyxnathin “tsked” in time to his wagging index finger, leaving no doubt he had heard every foul phrase. Then, I adjusted the picture so that the words were surrounded instead by a giant thought bubble. Glancing at my tutor, I waited for him to reprimand me for my bad language. But he just peered back at me.
“Good job, Hailey,” he said finally. “Silence at last.”
~23~
Hewlyxnathin insisted we call it a day. That was fine with me, but he also insisted that I eat before I changed back. I was hungry; ravenous in fact. However, as neither of us had the foresight to pack a snack, that meant I needed to hunt. Something live. And while the idea of tearing into some furry creature completely grossed-out my human side, the hawk in me was ready to chow down on some tasty bunny innards.
In the end, the bird won out. Somehow, even though I had never taken down prey before, my instincts took over. I flew up and perched on top of a large tree. From that vantage point, the entire garden could be surveyed with ease. My eyesight was phenomenal; I could discern movement of individual blades of grass hundreds of yards away. But most amazing, were the colors. Everything was so much more vivid, like I was seeing shades I had never knew existed before. The lilies that had been simply red to my human eyes were now blue-veined violet with a bright, yellow-green cone in the center. Cool. A contrasting color in the middle to attract bees to its pollen. Nice adaptation.
Tapping his foot and glancing at his watch, Hewlyxnathin chided, “Come on, Hailey. Get on with it. I’d like to get some dinner sometime before tomorrow.”
“I’m going, I’m going. But cut me some slack; the world looks so different, I’m just taking it all in.” I didn’t intend to sound so snarky, but I didn’t want him to think I was only trying to prolong the inevitable.
Out of
the corner of my eye, I caught movement under a shrub on the other side of the garden. Bingo. I watched as the rabbit cautiously hopped out onto the lawn. It twitched its nose, as if it was trying to sniff out any potential danger. I didn’t know if it was even capable of smelling me, but I was downwind, so it didn’t really matter. Without conscious thought, I launched myself toward my quarry. It tried to dart back to the protection under the bush, but I was too fast. Sorry dude, I thought as I put the poor creature out of its misery and feasted like I hadn’t eaten in weeks. When nothing remained but pelt, bones and a few not-so-tasty bits of alimentary tract, I finally drew away and flew back to Hewlyxnathin.
“Good. Now picture your body returning to its human form; feathers falling away, arms replacing wings.”
I shifted back to Hailey with relative ease, but had made the rookie mistake of being perched on the back of the bench when it happened. Toes just don’t afford the same purchase as talons, and I ungracefully fell onto the cobblestone path. And of course, I was unclothed and lying — ironically — spread-eagle on the ground. At least the snack seemed to prevent any stomach issues. Hewlyxnathin said nothing, but reached under the bench and pulled out a folded, fabric bundle.
Tossing the package to me, he beamed with pride. “I sensed you would be an excellent pupil. You are a natural.”
