The Bends (Messing Psychic Academy Book 7), page 1
THE BENDS
MESSING PSYCHIC ACADEMY™ BOOK SEVEN
D.R. PERRY
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This is a work of fiction with frequent puns, bad jokes, and pop culture references. All characters depicted are my own creations even if they resemble a pack of Slytherdors with a HuffleClaw mascot at times. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Dragonets are, sadly, mere figments of my imagination and I have no idea where you can get one as a pet.
Copyright © 2023 D.R. Perry
Cover by Mihaela Voicu http://www.mihaelavoicu.com/
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
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LMBPN Publishing
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Version 1.00, June 2023
ebook ISBN: 979-8-88878-412-9
Print ISBN: 979-8-88878-413-6
THE BENDS TEAM
Thanks to the JIT Readers
Daryl McDaniel
Wendy L Bonell
Diane L. Smith
Zacc Pelter
Dorothy Lloyd
Christopher Gilliard
Jan Hunnicutt
Editor
The SkyFyre Editing Team
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Interlude
Thank you!
Glossary
Also by D.R. Perry
Connect with the Author
Other LMBPN Publishing Books
PROLOGUE
Irah
I hovered in the Messing Psychic Institute and Academy’s cafeteria rafters, keeping my distance from my friend and my protégé. Ben and Mateo had entered their WayStation in the extramural magiscience fair.
Some of their friends were present to support them. Sadie, Mia, Wesley, and Cristina were all rooting for them. I couldn’t bring myself to make my presence known.
Feles was with them, you see.
The palug was certainly not the only source of my long life’s trauma. He was, however, the architect of damage I hadn’t resolved. Despite the shaky reasoning of my logic, wisdom gained in group therapy stabilized my resolve.
“I shouldn’t fault myself for keeping my distance.”
A faint breeze ruffled my feathers. Because my field of vision could encompass three hundred and sixty degrees at will, I viewed my visitor a moment later. However, I wasn’t happy to see my peer and rival.
“It’s about time you gave yourself a break, buckeroo.”
“Who invited you, Haziet?”
“Drop the t, or High Ones help me, I’ll—”
“Continue your buffoonery? Please, spare me the indignity.”
“Spare me the indignity of a name I rejected ages ago.”
“You could have been Haziah.”
“I chose differently. As did your youngster.”
“She’s not mine. In case you’ve forgotten, new celestials aren’t born of existing ones, instead they—”
“Come from heroic acts. Yes, I remember. A fledgling taken under wing still belongs to you, especially at heart.”
“She owes me nothing, though.”
“I’ve given up trying to convince Nelah of the same thing.”
“This old argument surely isn’t the reason you’ve come, Hazie.”
“Of course not. I sensed a friend in distress.”
“Former friend.”
“Semantics. This new development with the cat’s got you running in circles. More than usual, I mean, since you’ve always been round.”
“So you came to poke fun at this whole disaster?”
“No. I came so you wouldn’t face this alone.”
“That’s not how you sound.”
“I can’t help it. You know that.”
I couldn’t argue. Our base concepts had been opposite from the beginning, but a non-issue at first, even after choosing our Paths. It was the Over’s overcrowding that brought us into conflict. Now that we’d had time and distance from each other, shouldn’t I let the tension ease?
“Yes, Hazie. It’s Feles. I’m not sure I can ever forgive him for harming me. The fear that he’ll do the same to Arie rends my nerves more thoroughly than his claws ever did.”
“Why do you think she’ll fall prey when they’re both in the same pledged psycule?”
“I’ve felt that cat’s anguish firsthand. She’ll never withstand its full force should he succeed in unleashing it.”
“What about her presence?”
I closed all of my eyes, remembering. The day Feles had caught me, I’d tried everything to fend him off. Music and mathematics, facts and physics, education and ephemera, all turned on their heads and inverted. My baffling presence, feared by all other celestials, had only slid off him like water from a gull’s wings.
“If mine didn’t suffice, hers most certainly will not.”
“Listen, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way because what he did to you wasn’t your fault. But how do you know she’d fail?”
“I’m a celestial of knowledge, Hazie. Because of this, I know mercy’s not a weapon.”
“Maybe anguish isn’t a force to be defeated, but one to be salved.”
“Then I hover in the shadows, watching him destroy them. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Watch her instead. Trust Arie to find her way either with or around the brute.”
“What’s your reasoning?”
“Call it a Right Handed hunch. Or an irrational hope. I haven’t got a real answer for you, Irat.”
“I supposed I deserved the childhood moniker for thinking you’d take a fact-based approach. Connect the intangible dots for me, then.”
“One thing I’ve noticed about the mundaners of this era is, they’re defined by more than facts. Their faith and devotion turn tables when the chips are down.”
“Their actions are what saved me, a concerted effort. I can’t help but notice some of them aren’t here now.”
“Maybe they’re scared of Feles, too. Keeping their distance, like you. They’ll resurface eventually. I’ve got a—”
“A hunch, I suspect.”
“Can’t you at least try taking comfort in that? For old time’s sake, if not for me?”
I wished it were that simple. That I could rely on my oldest friend and function by adopting his certainty as the mundaners did with each other.
“We both know that’s impossible, old times or new. Still, all knowledge reveals itself in time. An effort to abide until more of the facts come to light is within my, ahem, sphere.”
Hazie chuckled. The sound washed over me, jarring my expression of mirth loose, if only for a moment. Once we finished, he turned all nine of his eyes down at the project displayed below us.
“Wow.”
“What has you astounded this time?”
“See for yourself, Irah.”
I turned my gaze downward and saw Headmaster Hawkins pinning a blue ribbon to the report board on the boys’ table. Although they hadn’t placed first at their school, it seemed the judges at the extramural level appreciated the WayStation properly.
“Hopefully, the High Ones will allow them to build it as they wish,” Hazie said.
“It’ll be an easier feat than taming that cat, I imagine.”
“Oh, I have faith they’ll manage it all eventually. First, they need to get the band back together. Reunite. Stop splitting the party before the big boss encounter.”
“All of that is easier said than done.”
“Oh, my fine feathered friend. Isn’t everything?”
Before I could argue and remind Hazie that words to mend torn friendships were scarce as hen’s teeth, he translocated. Which proved my unspoken point.
If they were to resurface from the depths of solitude, they’d have to do it slowly and with care. Physical decompression’s risks were well-documented, but life had a way of ripping dressings from wounds still unhealed.
Prayer wasn’t part of my nature, so I made myself a vow. That despite my fear, I’d step in to warn Mercury section if they risked the proverbial bends.
CHAPTER ONE
Ben
On the Sunday after the magiscience fair, I leaned on the wall next to the mark in my room, gazing at my newest pledge. He perched on the back of my desk chair, glaring back.
“We’re going, and that’s final.”
You can’t make me.
Arie’s typically golden sparkles flared white, a sign of
“He won’t have to.”
What can you do about it, little bird?
In the opposite corner, Sangra growled. I sighed.
“Thanks, ladies, but I’ve got this.”
Do you, though? Do you really?
“I have to deactivate my bracelet to open the way. You know what that means, of course.”
Everybody in the room did. It meant I’d be in a world of pain, which was the entirety of a palug’s diet. Although I still didn’t know why and hadn’t found any answers in my college pre-course reading, using it as an incentive had worked before.
As usual, Feles waxed defiant about it.
Maybe I’m not hungry.
“Fine, maybe you’re not. Food isn’t the only incentive. We’re going to the Under. Basically, it’s a big giant Unseelie party.”
I hate parties. So many mundaners eating, drinking, dancing.
“Almost everyone there is from faerie. It’s a totally different vibe from our school dances, and you’re invited.”
Who invited me, then? And don’t lie. I’ll know if you do.
“Okay, then. Technically, the invitation says Benjamin Endor, Summoner, and Esteemed Pledges.”
I’m a holy terror, not esteemed, which is a good thing.
Mateo swore up and down he hadn’t been able to sense Feles’ lies. For whatever reason, I could, as easily as he detected mine. I knew he wasn’t content to be feared. He craved more than sustenance and a safe shoulder to perch on.
“I want to bring you, Feles. You’re esteemed by me.”
That’s impossible. After everything I’ve done.
“Yeah, I know you’re no hero. You know I’m not lying. Listen, the king will be there. I want to show you off. All you need to do is hang around looking fierce.”
His tail waved back and forth. There wasn’t any point he could argue, nothing he could admit besides the real reason he balked, which I already knew. Fear. Of what, I couldn’t tell. Our connection didn’t run that deep yet. Arie added her take in my head.
Keep going. You’re onto something here, Ben.
I leaned on the wall, let go of one crutch, and patted the opposite shoulder.
“Come on, Feles. Your ex-pledge will be there. He’s all about comforting the disturbed nowadays. Let’s go disturb the comfortable.”
I suppose that’s fine. But only because you put it that way.
I stabilized myself again in time for my shoulder to take the impact of a five-pound palug leaping halfway across the room. This was another test.
Petie and I had pored over old books about palugs and learned they valued strength almost as much as they hungered for pain. I passed, barely. I’d never come close to Mateo’s level of physical fitness again. Thank the Almighty there were other ways to be strong.
Bearing the momentary pain of shutting my bracelet off to open a way to the king’s forest was one. Another was taking the three steps through it to the other side. Feles hadn’t lied about not being hungry. Relief bathed my aching limbs as I switched the bracelet back on.
I hadn’t needed alarms reminding me to reactivate it since the night Feles returned from wherever he’d been. The meds I took to catch breakthrough pain had stopped working that night, too. That was between me and my pledges.
Maybe it was irresponsible of me not to tell Dr. Meister. What was worse, temporary anguish or the risk of starving Feles by accident? I’d already made my choice, erring on the side of a well-fed faerie feline.
The path to the king’s lodge was strewn with pine needles but flat and free of obstructions. I navigated it without assistance or issue. Sangra paced at my side while Arie sailed ahead, dipping to the right and left. Feles clung on. After a while, he asked a question.
What’s the occasion?
“Oh, it’s something like a Dadchelor party.”
Explain.
“Her Majesty is expecting pretty soon, at least in faerie terms. This party celebrates the king’s impending fatherhood.”
You weren’t lying about wanting me here. But you’re out of your mind, bringing a palug to a baby party.
“Nobody there thinks I’m entirely sane, Feles.”
That’s outrageous.
“It’s not. I stole from the Sirin, disobeyed Captain Dunstable’s orders, and jumped in front of a truck, among other things.”
Then why go?
“Because they’re my friends anyway.”
We arrived at the lodge, or at least the path leading up to it. A carriage waited, door open with a ramp in place of the steps I’d expected. Sangra sniffed it, then wagged her tail twice and went in. I headed up, ducking to get inside.
I fit between the wall and a large black duffel bag like the kind recruits took with them after enlisting in the Army. Arie blew the door shut with a flap of two wings. After that, the carriage moved up the path. The ride was far smoother than I’d expected.
A man in a trench coat not unlike Cosmo’s sat in the seat across from mine. Seat was an understatement. Another bag took up most of his, too. A third covered the floor at his feet.
The man tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. Light from the window fell on his face, and I recognized him.
“You’re Tony Gitano.”
“And you’re that summoner prodigy everyone’s talking about. About time you got here.”
“Uh, no. I’m not the prodigy. That’s Mateo.”
Tony laughed. “Get a load of this, Gee. Kid with the palug says he’s not a prodigy.”
The gnome sat on the opposite end of the duffel on the floor. “He’s half right. Other one’s a force to be reckoned with.”
“I’ll reserve judgment until after I meet the guy.”
“That’s fair.”
“Speaking of meeting, I’m Ben. The hound is Sangra. Arie’s the celestial. Feles is the palug. He’s the newest.”
The gnome touched his cap and smiled, showing off a set of teeth made from guitar picks.
“Gee Nome, and well met, Feles. The other two already know me. I’ve got a reputation, see.”
“Reputation as an epic babysitter, you mean.” Tony chuckled.
Gee shook his head, sighing. “He ain’t lyin’. Here’s a lesson for you, Ben. Don’t bother sounding menacing around a Kells Cat. They blow cover like nobody’s business.”
“Truth detector, got it.” I nodded.
“That’s just scratching the surface, but here’s hoping we’re never enemies, kid.”
I’d already heard Tony Gitano only went after the most heinous people. Since I didn’t plan to commit crimes against extrahumanity, it was hard to imagine getting on his bad side. All I could do was agree.
“Amen to that.”
The carriage stopped. Tony motioned for me to get out first, so I did. Moving forward toward the entrance was as easy as the walk up. At the door, a pair of shades ushered me inside. After my eyes adjusted to the light change, I left the vestibule.
Several guests already waited in the lodge’s main room. Most were mundane-born faeries and pure I didn’t know. I was relieved to spot several familiar faces in the crowd while waiting to be announced.
In one corner, I recognized Jeff immediately. He stood with Lane Meyer and Ed Redford. Lane had a guitar while Ed held a sheet of music between himself and Jeff. Three other men stood with them.
One resembled Tony and Cosmo, with twinkling eyes and curly black hair but duskier skin. I’d seen him before with the Tinfoil Hat pack. He was Marquis Ismail, a djinn of the king’s court. The other two guys wore red hats.
After a moment, I recognized Ed’s older brother Fred also looking over the music. The other behatted man could only be their father. He leaned on a large wooden crate. Marquis Ismail adjusted a purple ribbon wrapped around it.
