by M. L. Ryan
Finally, it was time to say goodbye to Hyattia. From terrified attendant to faithful caretaker, I knew I’d miss him. I’d wanted Ulut to teach me enough Dekankaran to tell him how much he meant to me, but there hadn’t been time. Sebastian contended that there weren’t enough moments in a lifetime to overcome my paltry linguistic skills, and he may have been right. Instead, I scratched my thanks into the dirt, as I had in my pen at Jifga’s, and hoped he understood the true depth of my gratitude. His ear-to-ear smile told me I had.
It occurred to me Hyattia hadn’t revealed his own travel itinerary, and I had Ulut inquire about when he planned to depart.
“He’s not leaving,” Ulut announced wide-eyed, seemingly as surprised as I by the revelation. “He and Gera will split the work, as well as any profits.”
“Why wouldn’t he just go home?”
“I asked him that. He has no family left to go back to, and he gets along well with Gera. I suppose he’s looking to start with a clean slate.”
Gera was nearly destitute when we showed up, and we worried how well he’d survive once we left. Having a former farmer to help would ease much of the burden the one-man operation previously faced. I just hoped Agnes wasn’t too pissed about not getting the wagon back.
With Ulut, W, and Z on one side and Prytx, Alex, and T on the other, my bearers hefted the poles of the sling-litter onto their shoulders and the ascent commenced. Sebastian and Bex served as the trail guides until the first rest stop, where they took over on the poles for W and T, who then became the pathfinders. The rotation in and out continued in this manner, assuring the long, difficult slog to the Lion’s Ledge proceeded at a fair pace, and no one person expended too much energy in the climb.
At the ledge, Sebastian administered one last dose of remedial magic, and then stood back as I stretched my wings.
“Are you okay?” Alex queried, eyeing a raw area on my underbelly. Of the many stab wounds Jifga inflicted on his final day on earth, all had healed but one, a particularly deep and stubborn puncture only visible when I lifted my wings. It hurt, but hopefully, not enough to matter, and it hadn’t become infected like some of my other injuries. Not wanting to admit my flagging certitude at this point in the proceedings, I assured him I was fine and readied myself for flight.
My usual takeoff routine consisted of facing into the wind, pushing up with my powerful legs, and flapping my wings to generate enough airflow to create lift. Unfortunately, the technique required a lot of energy, a commodity I was a bit low on. While I might have had enough strength to get off the ground, there might not be enough left to stay airborne. The other option entailed utilizing an initially less demanding maneuver, dropping off the ledge and letting the air do the hard work. The problem was if I had trouble flying—a very real possibility in my estimation—there would be nothing below me except a hundred-foot-or-so drop and no way to prevent being smashed like a pancake at the bottom.
After weighing the pros and cons, I decided I’d rather go out with a bang than die slowly, stuck in a form I couldn’t sustain. Inhaling the fragrant blossoms that hung around my neck as deeply as I could and focusing all my attention on my task lest I catch sight of Alex and lose my nerve, I stepped off the edge.
At first, I worried I’d made the wrong choice, as my weight carried me down more than I anticipated. I was a little dizzy and short of breath, but I didn’t panic, beating my wings more rhythmically to expend less energy. The muscles along my back relaxed, and I stopped flapping, shifting to a glide. Moments later, I caught a thermal, riding it comfortably to the outcropping. If I’d missed the column of rising air, I probably wouldn’t have made it. Even with the atmospheric boost, the activity drained my already limited reserves, and I barely had enough in the tank to land safely. Completely spent, I lay in a heap, gasping for breath, and waited for the others to make their way up.
Having companions with super-human strength and endurance worked in my favor as I was alone for only a few minutes. Alex and Sebastian arrived first and immediately infused me with more remedies that alleviated some of my breathing problems. Once the rest of the gang got to the outcropping, Sebastian pulled the basket, one bracelet, and the egg from his pocket, and handed the stone to Alex.
Sebastian fiddled with the alignment of the mazes, comparing it to the holograph swirling in his open palm. Methodically moving about the massive boulders that graced our position near the top of Babo, he finally stopped in front of a particularly craggy one and told Alex to bring the egg.
“Any noticeable increase in the frequency of the oscillations?” Sebastian demanded.
“No,” Alex replied, seemingly unfazed by his mentor’s brusque tone. “It’s vibrating so much that my hand feels almost numb, but I don’t think there is any difference between over there and over here.”
Sebastian frowned. “If my calculations are correct, which I am sure they are, the portal should be within ten feet of this rock.”
Ulut stepped closer to Sebastian, studying the symbol on the basket. “What did you expect to happen that’s not?”
“Based on my interpretation of the notes in the journal, when the egg’s energy met the portal’s, the door to another dimension should open. Here, hold this,” he said, handing the basket to Ulut.
“Your interpretation?” I squeaked. “I thought you had a pretty good idea that this was going to work. If I flew up here for nothing…”
Sebastian held up his free hand to interrupt. “This is not an exact science, my dear. Calm yourself and let me think.”
I watched as his expression conveyed the five stages of contemplation: confusion, possibility, uncertainty, coalescence of ideas, and finally, acceptance that you were no closer to an answer than before you went through the stages. He did this a number of times, and while we waited for an epiphany, Alex came and sat beside me.
“This will work,” he said confidently. “I’ve seen him like this before; he’ll figure it out.”
“But what if he can’t?”
“He will, carisa. I know he will.”
“Would you tell me the truth if you thought he wouldn’t?”
He cupped my head in his hands and looked directly—or as directly as possible given the not completely forward-facing placement of my eyes—and stated emphatically, “I would never lie to you; you can take that to the bank.”
The egg was still in Alex’s palm, forcing the polished stone to rest against my chin. He may have felt it vibrating, but to me, it was still motionless. I peered into Alex’s ridiculously blue eyes, expecting to glimpse a smidgen of doubt hidden behind his outward assurance, but it wasn’t there. He really believed Sebastian would save the day. In my mind, I hoped he was right about the bank, because I didn’t want to take that to my grave. I was about to tell him something less pessimistic, if for no other reason than to prove I didn’t doubt his sincerity, when I heard Sebastian whoop with joy.
“There it is! I knew it! The portal!”
I looked up to find Sebastian standing in front of the boulder, his expression a mixture of unbridled glee and his usual unrestrained vanity. Everyone else gathered behind him, mouths agape, in reaction to the large opening that hadn’t been there an instant before.
“What the…?” Alex muttered, standing up and gazing at the dark hole. The moment he did so, however, the doorway disappeared.
Sebastian cursed, frantically examining the 3D image of Babo in his palm. “What did you do, Alexander?” he admonished.
Alex ran a hand through his hair. “Nothing, I just stood up.”
Sebastian stared at his protégé, and I could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to figure out what went wrong. Suddenly, he snapped his head toward Alex. “What were you doing just before you stood?”
“Talking to Hailey, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
Clearly neither did Sebastian, because he scowled.
“The egg,” I blurted. “I was touching the egg. Or, rather, the egg w
as touching me.” I quickly explained, and Sebastian’s expression softened.
“Put it back, Alexander. Put the egg exactly where you had it.”
Alex opened his hand, looking first at the egg in his palm, then at me. He reached out and cradled my head so the stone again touched my chin.
The boulder shimmered, and the portal appeared once more.
33
While climbing Dekan-Babo in the daylight presented no problems with prying eyes from the locals, the same would not be true for reappearing on the human dimension’s equivalent. The sun had already begun its descent, but the wait until full dark was the longest of my life.
The requirement for egg-me contact necessitated we scrap the original departure plan. Initially we decided Sebastian would go first so he would be there when I, the second one through, came out of the portal. Now it was clear I must exit last. Alex balked, preferring to have us travel together, but he relented when Sebastian pointed out the portal wasn’t quite large enough for both of us at the same time.
Tension enveloped us all, except Sebastian, who passed the time conducting experiments. The first made sense—he threw things into the putative opening to make sure it truly was a gateway to somewhere else. Thankfully, the pebbles, leaves, and remnants of his snack disappeared as soon as they entered the portal’s gaping maw—we’d have to take our chances that they came out on the other side in one piece. The rest, however, seemed designed only to satisfy his unflinching sense of curiosity. He claimed it was vitally important to ascertain if the egg’s placement affected the materialization of the portal, and answered the question by jamming it against my body in as many locations as I’d allow. I was too sick to resist or complain, and we discovered in short order the only requirement was that the polished stone made contact with me, where was inconsequential.
The moment it was late enough for any hikers on the human side of Baboquivari Peak to have departed, Alex slapped the egg against my side. The portal shimmered and expanded across the boulder, and Sebastian rose to his feet.
Gazing thoughtfully at the opening, he recited, “Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt.”
I thought the quote was Shakespeare—Measure for Measure, perhaps?—and recalled my high school English teacher, a crotchety spinster, aptly named Miss Borman. She’d be so proud I remembered something from her class other than her tendency to make even the most exciting passages and plots thoroughly tedious.
He squared his broad shoulders and stepped forward. Pausing just short of the entrance, he turned and said, “Wait a few minutes between each passage. If it takes a bit to recover and move out of the way, no one will want to be crushed by subsequent travelers coming through.” With that final piece of advice, he stepped into the abyss and disappeared.
W went next, waiting as Sebastian suggested, followed by Prytx, and then one by one, the rest of the Jyryxahal disappeared into the gap in the boulder. Using strips of canvas from the sling, Ulut and Alex strapped the egg against my lower leg, just above my foot, to keep it against my flesh when no one was there to hold it for me. That task finished, Ulut pumped Alex’s hand and then hugged my neck.
“Ulut,” I called out, stopping him from entering the portal. “Are you positive you should go through?”
We’d discussed this issue before. If he went into the human dimension as a man, he’d have to stay that way. Otherwise, if he even could shift into dog-Ulut, he’d likely never be able to shift back. There was a possibility the portal could be accessed in the human dimension using the egg, but as it hadn’t sprung to life on the human side of Babo, no one believed there was much of a chance. I knew how important regular form-bends were for my health and well-being, and I worried he might suffer if he wasn’t ever able to transform.
“Tired of me already?”
“You know that’s not it. I just don’t want you to make a decision you’ll regret.”
Ulut paused for a moment, and then shrugged. “I’ll take my chances. There’s not much to recommend here,” he said, gesturing around him. “I much prefer either of the other two dimensions, and, all in all, being a man has its advantages over being quadrapedal and furry.” With a mock salute, he continued forward and disappeared like the others.
Just the two of us remained, and Alex made no attempt to hide his struggle over leaving me.
“You’re certain you can manage by yourself?” he asked, assessing my vigor with a visual once-over.
I wasn’t, but I refused to confess my doubts. “All I have to do is go through,” I said, as much to convince myself as Alex.
He narrowed his eyes, insisting on giving me an extra boost of healing energy before he departed. “I know I can’t provide my usual pop, but I will feel better doing it,” he confessed as he laid his hands on my side. It stung a little, but I appreciated the gesture.
I sighed when he finally released the connection. “Go Blondie; I’ll be right behind you.”
The corners of his mouth rose slightly, but uneasiness still marked the rest of his features. Never taking his eyes off me, he backed into the gateway and vanished.
Now that I was alone, all the worries I’d held in check rushed to the surface. What if this portal takes us to yet another dimension? What if it’s worse than this one? What if I don’t fit?
I knew if I didn’t get a grip, the “what ifs” would prevent me from taking the plunge. I dragged myself to the boulder, tucked my wings against my body, and inhaling as deeply as possible without dissolving into a paroxysm of wheezy hacking, I flung myself into the opening.
When first I traveled to Dekankara, there was no appreciation of movement through dimensions, not even the slight sensation of falling one experienced going to and from Coursodon. I was aware only of the sizzling currents of the lightning Alex deflected. That sensation wasn’t pleasant, but it sure as hell wasn’t anything like entering the rock portal. I felt like someone thrust me at high speed through a tunnel half the size of my body while simultaneously ripping off my limbs. Searing, crushing agony so intense that I worried I might not make it out alive. It continued for what seemed an eternity, and when I reached the point where longing to expire replaced the fear of dying, the pain abruptly ceased.
My initial take on the sudden absence of suffering was I actually had died, until someone began hitting me in the face.
Who in God’s name slaps a dead person? I wondered, realizing almost immediately that the slapper, in fact, could be God. Is this the punishment for questioning the existence of a Supreme Being—he or she proves their actuality by smacking the crap out of you in perpetuity?
Eventually, the walloping gave way to shoulder grabbing and shaking. “Leave me alone, damn it, can’t a person rest in fucking peace?”
The rough handling stopped abruptly.
“She must be alright; she is using profanity,” a deep voice intoned from above.
God sounds like Sebastian? The absurdity of that thought forced me to consider I might actually be alive after all. That, or I was spending eternity in the other after-life destination and Sebastian was the devil.
Cautiously, I opened one eye. Anxious—but blurry—faces hovered over me, not just Sebastian, but Alex and Ulut as well.
“Did it work?” I asked, noting the words originated from my mouth, not my thoughts, making the question unnecessary.
One of Alex’s glorious smiles lit up his face. “See for yourself,” he said, gently lifting my head so I could survey my body.
“Hey, I have toes!” And real, honest-to-goodness skin. Lots and lots of it, actually. With the exception of the canvas wrapping around my ankle that held the egg in place, I was naked. I couldn’t stop staring at my humanness.
Alex lowered me to the ground, pulled off his woolen coat, lifted me again, and wrapped it over my goose-bumped flesh.
“Sorry, I should have done that sooner. We were so worried when you didn’t come-to, covering you didn’t cross my mind.”
>
“No problem, other than being a little cold, I couldn’t care less about the no-clothes part. I’m just happy to have a normal body again.”
“How are you feeling?” Ulut inquired, adding his jacket to Alex’s.
I was bruised, depleted, befuddled, achy, dizzy, weak, and insanely relieved, but I settled for “Like shit, but happy,” to sum up the mix of warring sensations. A question of my own came to mind. “Did I pop out this way, or did you have to do something to get me to transform?”
“It was phenomenal, my dear,” Sebastian explained. “Each part of you changed to your human form as it emerged. For a split second, half was human, the other still dragon-like. Fascinating.”
He gazed dreamily at a nearby boulder, identical to the one on Dekan-Babo from which the portal materialized. There was only solid granite there now. Apparently, the egg didn’t work quite the same when in contact with my flesh here in the human dimension. So much for an easy way back to Dekankara for Ulut, I mused.
I’d imagined the experience of exiting the gateway would be similar to being vomited out, but Sebastian’s description seemed slower, more incremental. That explained why the passage felt less like the involuntary expulsion of gastric contents and more like birth. How appropriate I entered the dimension in my birthday suit.
“The ride through nearly killed me,” I recalled with a shudder.
The others’ experiences were vastly different from my own—no torturous suffering or soul-sucking terror, only a momentary sense of discombobulation. Whether the dissimilarity was attributable to my form, size, or proximity to the egg wasn’t clear, but whatever the reason, I was thrilled no one else endured the horrific conditions I had. Alex gave me some food we’d brought from Gera’s to replenish my post-bend energy, and assured I was in no immediate danger, he and Sebastian commenced with the next phase of our return home. While Jifga and TBD had appropriated most of our belongings, in a stroke of good luck, neither showed any interest in the satellite phone. Someone did remove the batteries, however. I pictured Jifga examining the phone, confused as to its purpose or worth, until he discovered the secret compartment holding the real prize—hidden hard, square blocks!
