Part 17 (1/2)

The idea of breaking into a heavily guarded castle seemed impossible, yet Collins saw no better alternative. The archers at the first portal had shown their clear intent to kill anyone who approached it.

Also, traveling back toward the town that had condemned him as a murderer and a cannibal seemed like sure suicide. Depending on the communication between areas, the royals might know nothing of his crime. If the crystal had properties beyond helping Prinivere make him a portal, so much the better. He owed his companions at least that much for risking themselves to save the life of a stranger. A stranger, Collins reminded himself, who has yet to show a suitable amount of grat.i.tude. ”Of course, I'll fetch that crystal,” Collins promised aloud. ”And I hope it works a lot more than one time. I appreciate your helping me. You guys deserve it and more.” Collins smiled at another thought. ”In fact, after I'm home, I'll see what I can find for you. Things like Zylas' lighter that make life a bit easier.”

No real breeze blew through Prinivere's cave, but a tangible rush of relief followed Collins'

p.r.o.nouncement.

Returning from her visit to the sleeping dragon, Falima turned to practical considerations. ”Of course, we'll get you to the castle. And describe as much of the layout as we know.”

”Of course.” Now that he had so valiantly volunteered, Collins refused to consider details. So long as the break-in remained abstract, he could bask in his friends' adulation and convince himself he would soon get home.

Zylas became a rat at midnight, his white fur easy to spot even in the dense gloom of a cave at night.

He crawled off to sleep with the dragon, while Falima and Ialin discussed keeping watches. Since they made no effort to include him in their conversation, Collins stretched out on the floor near the entrance and tried to sleep.

The hard floor bit into his back and shoulders, no matter how frequently he s.h.i.+fted his position. The possible challenges that awaited him, alone and in strange surroundings, kept intruding on thoughts he desperately tried to keep dull and commonplace. The sheep he counted mutated to dragons. The map of his childhood home became an Escheresque maze-castle filled with weapons and monsters. Conjugating high school Spanish verbs became so simple, it could not hold his attention. He considered the reason; he had always struggled with them in the past and should only have gotten rustier over time. It's the dragon's spell. Understanding dawned with a suddenness that brought him fully awake again. If this thing's long-lasting and crosses worlds, I've got a brilliant career as a translator.

Oddly, that thought soothed him where others had not. Now he had work to fall back on should hisprofessors blackball him from science forever. Even if he managed to talk his way out of their wrath, having wasted millions of dollars in grants, translation could earn him the spare cash he needed to handle his student loans. If it lasts, he reminded himself before excitement ran away with him. I should be so lucky. It occurred to Collins that he had to survive Barakhai first, which brought him back to the circle of worry that had, thus far, held sleep at bay. With a sigh, Collins began the battle again.

Chapter 12.

A SHAKE awakened Benton Collins from a dream, heart pounding, wildly aware. He sprang to his feet to face Falima, who retreated in a scramble.

The cave mouth remained dark. Ialin sat on a chest with his chin in his hands, a grin of amus.e.m.e.nt on his homely, androgynous features. The dragon s.h.i.+mmered slightly in the darkness, still sleeping. He saw no sign of Zylas.

”What's wrong?” Collins asked.

”Nothing's wrong,” Falima replied in a sheepish tone. ”I just thought you'd want to get up before I change.”

”Oh.” Collins glanced at his watch. It read 5:30 a.m. The fatigue that should have greeted him upon first awakening seeped in on him now, accompanied by a mult.i.tude of pains spread across every part of his body. Why? he wondered, stretching out his throbbing arms. He glanced at the wound the dog had inflicted, but it had scabbed completely, leaving no redness and only slight bruising. It bothered him less than the twinges coming from what seemed like every other part of him, especially his back.

Gradually, Collins' mind caught up to his instantly alert body. Of course I hurt. I slept with nothing but clothes between me and an irregular stone floor, I fell off a horse, and I rode for hours. He rubbed an aching hip and continued a conversation that had stagnated while he considered. ”Good idea.

You've only got a half hour of human time left.” He could not help glancing at Ialin, with whom he would share three more hours as a man. They would have to converse, he felt certain, since he could talk to no one else. Or can I? ”Zylas' stone lets him understand animal speech as well.”

Falima had antic.i.p.ated the question. ”His stone is unique. Most, and the spell, only work for human languages; though the lady said you might get some basic idea of an animal's mood.” She studied him, brows rising in increments. ”If that's necessary.” It seemed more question than statement.

Collins shrugged, disappointed. ”It can't hurt.” Not wanting to look stupid, he added. ”Though, when a horse draws its ears back and raises a hind foot, or a bird screeches and lashes out with its beak, or a dog growls, I can get a pretty good notion of their bent toward me.”

Ialin chimed in, ”Those are pretty obvious signs.” He added with heat, ”Of course, when a man slaps me halfway to Carterton, I get a pretty good idea of his bent toward me, too.”

”That's not fair,” Collins protested. ”I thought you were a bug.”

”Joetha, too, apparently.”

a.s.saulted by irritation, Collins dismissed the comment with a sharp wave. ”Can't we ever get past that?”

”Past it?” Ialin's voice went crisp with angry incredulity. ”You killed and ate someone. How do you get past that?”

Collins did not know, but he had managed. Zylas, Falima, Vernon, Prinivere, and even Korfius had managed as well. He emphasized every word, and they emerged in clear snarls, ”It . . . was ... an ...

accident.””Ialin,” Falima said, in the same warning tone Zylas used to use when she verbally a.s.saulted Collins.

At that moment, the rat skidded into their midst, squeaking savagely. He dropped the translation stone to the floor and planted a paw on it. ”Cool it, guys. She's awake.”

While Collins still marveled at how flawlessly the two translation devices merged even into slang, the others hurried or scrambled to the dragon's side.

Prinivere stretched her long, scaly neck, peering at the three in front of her with ancient eyes. *I'm fine,* she broadcast, with no more sincerity than the claim usually held in America. Even without physical words, her weakness came to him clearly. *A few more hours, and I should have the strength to fly. I appreciate your watching over me. *

”We appreciate the magic, my lady,” Zylas squeaked, right front paw on the crystal.

The dragon reached out an enormous claw and seemed to enclose Zylas in it.

Fear clutched at Collins, though he knew she meant him no harm.

When Prinivere removed her claw, she left Zylas as he had been, except for a tousle of fur between his pink velvet ears. ”Near-perfect overlap. I'm impressed, Zylas.”

”Couldn't have done it without you and this magic,” Zylas threw back the compliment, jiggling the translation stone with his paw.

”And constant practice,” Falima added. ”Don't go getting too humble, even in the lady's presence.”

Zylas twitched his pointed nose at Falima, who excused herself and headed for the cave mouth.

Knowing she had gone to switch, Collins walked toward the group to give Falima more privacy. As they pa.s.sed one another, Falima whispered, ”Ialin will come around.”

Collins bit his lip to keep from laughing. They were precisely the words Zylas had used about her and Ialin at various times. It hardly mattered, then or now. He only had to get along with the hummingbird long enough to steal the magic-enhancing crystal and get himself through the new portal.

Prinivere recovered more slowly than even she seemed to expect, though her loyal attendants, a horse and a rat, showed no signs of impatience. Ialin set to describing the layout of the palace to Collins in a straight, matter-of-fact manner that precluded gibes or personal affronts. Apparently, the keep had two irregular lines of curtain walls: the outer with six mural towers and two gatehouses, the inner with gatehouses directly in line with those of the outer wall, but smaller. Both walls had full-length, crenellated parapets. Between the walls lay a gra.s.sy outer courtyard, grazed by herbivore servants and horse-guards while in their switch-forms. In addition to the keep, the inner courtyard contained a stables/guard barracks, gardens, kennel barracks, and a pond.

Head overflowing with sketched diagrams and verbal descriptions, Collins sat back on his haunches.

”How do you know all this?”

Ialin gave him that well-rehea.r.s.ed stare that proclaimed Collins the dumbest man alive. ”We're a hummingbird and a rat. How do you think we know?”

The three hours until Zylas' return to man form pa.s.sed more swiftly than Collins expected as he tried to cram the information Ialin gave him into every nook and cranny in his brain. Comparing the situation to the night before finals helped, but the unfamiliar castle terms required defining, making the whole even more complicated. Collins could not help remembering why he had chosen a formulaic, theoretical, and logical field rather than one based mainly on memorization. He gained new respect for historians and geographers.

Falima grazed outside throughout the lesson. At nine, Ialin returned to bird form, and Collins heaved a grateful sigh. Antic.i.p.ating three hours of blessed relief and silence, he drew the travel pack to him in search of breakfast. Crouched in front of one of the chests, he placed each item on its lid: first a hunk of brown bread, the jar of nut paste, and a wrinkled applelike fruit. He rummaged for a stick to spread the paste, wis.h.i.+ng he had his mult.i.tool. It had served him well in many unexpected situations, from using the pliers to straighten a damaged cage clasp to cutting open the otherwise impenetrable plastic packaging that entombed so many small electronics.

Collins discarded the thought of using his companions' utility knives on food. No telling what's on those blades. Instead, he went to the cave mouth to find a suitable stick.At Collins' sudden appearance, Falima raised her head and nickered. Remembering an earlier conversation, he strode over and scratched her between the ears. She closed her eyes and lowered her head, half-chewed stems jutting from her mouth. The sun beamed down from a cloudless sky, igniting red highlights in her tangled black forelock. Collins finger-combed it back in place with one hand, while the other continued to scratch.

Collins' stomach rumbled, and he abandoned his ministrations with a final pat. ”Pretty girl,” he cooed, feeling like an idiot and wondering how much of the encounter Falima would remember in human form.

Locating a thick twig near his feet, he picked it up and returned to the cave.

Prinivere lumbered outside. Collins froze, fear twitching through him despite his knowledge and his efforts to keep the emotion at bay. He stepped aside, shoving his shaking hands into his pockets to hide them. The stick jabbed his thigh through the fabric, and he loosed a grunt of pain.