Part 21 (1/2)

”From-?” Collins stopped himself from saying ”where?” ”-Ep.r.o.nville?” He laughed to cover his mistake. ”Never much happening there.” He could have kicked himself. He felt trapped by the easiest, most casual and obvious question in the universe, one he had even antic.i.p.ated. Larger concerns and the need for haste had made him forget the problem he had initially raised. Now, his ignorance undid him, leaving him unable to even fabricate a credible answer. He had little idea of the size of Barakhai, let alone its various towns and cities, could not guess how intimately they intertwined, and what might serve as news. In some cultures, information about who had married whom or which babies had survived the winter was welcome knowledge as far as a man could travel. ”At least compared with here.”

Uncertain whether his last comment had helped or only dug him deeper, he switched to a different tactic. ”No matter what I say, Marlys will contradict me.” Those were the first words since he arrived at the castle that rang surprisingly true. ”I'm always wrong.”Mabix chuckled. ”Sounds like you two are married.”

”Marlys and me?” Collins was as struck by the next words that escaped his mouth as Mabix was amused by them. ”What a horrible thought.”

Now Mabix laughed openly. ”Often that which a man protests the most will or should come to pa.s.s.”

He winked, and Collins was again struck by the similarity of that gesture to his own culture. ”At least according to women.”

Lyra returned, the gatehouse doors now open ahead. ”What was that?”

Mabix shook his head. ”Nothing you need to hear.”

Lyra sighed, speaking in a tone that implied confidentiality, though Mabix could surely hear her.

”Something between men, no doubt. I'm tired of that.”

For the first time, it occurred to Collins that he ought to see as many female guards as male since, presumably, the horses gave birth to as many fillies as colts. He made a mental note to ask Falima about it later, though he managed to devise a possible answer from his own experience. Likely, the women spent more of their human time house- and child-keeping. Or, perhaps, the women did more of the routine guard ch.o.r.es that did not involve the possibility of direct combat. The less industrial and enlightened a society, in general, the less it could afford to emanc.i.p.ate its women without endangering its survival.

Lyra led them through the second gatehouse and into the courtyard that surrounded the castle. Here, he saw less gra.s.s, though a few horses did graze around the scattered buildings. Gardens took up most of the s.p.a.ce, paths winding between them. A vast variety of vegetables flourished in crooked rows, and Collins saw none of the tended panoramas of flowers he expected from his visits to the arboretum. Each and every patch grew edibles of some type, from herbs to roots, fruit trees to vines. He did find some attractive blue flowers, but these grew in a planned line, obviously the source of some delectable seed.

Perhaps vilegro. Collins remembered the name of the plant Falima had turned into a sweet treat called gahiri. Here, too, buildings cropped out from the wall, kennels, guardhouses, and stables in remarkable abundance.

All of that flashed across Collins' sight in the instants before his attention became riveted upon the castle. Like some ma.s.sive university, it stood grandly, towering over its walls and gardens. Sun rays skipped across its surface, igniting glimmering lines of quartz and mica. The four square towers at the corners stood like sentinels, their tops crenellated with antlike figures of guards pacing atop them. A stone-cut stairway led into the open door.

Falima clomped through the gatehouse to pull up beside Collins. While he studied the structure, she grazed with an aloofness indicative of indifference.

Mabix spoke, ”Magnificent, isn't it?”

Only then, sound returned to Collins' world, and he heard the background noises of giggling children, conversation, and animal sounds of a myriad types. In response, he only nodded.

Lyra drew up. ”So, what's the news from Ep.r.o.nville?”

”Fine,” Collins murmured, still staring.

Mabix laughed. ”You'll get more from her when she switches, I'd warrant. This one seems due for some sleep.” He jerked a thumb toward Collins, which finally seized his attention.

”Sleep's fine.” Collins yawned broadly, remembering Zylas' advice. ”But I'd rather some food. I switch soon, too, and I'd like to grab a bite of something substantial before I'm committed to gra.s.s.”

Mabix and Lyra nodded vigorously. ”I'm with you on that one,” the woman muttered. He had clearly struck a chord.

”That's where the dogs have the advantage.” Lyra headed toward one of the barracks. ”Though I don't know many who'd admit it so freely.”

Collins supported the confession for the purposes of creating camaraderie with those who believed themselves his peers. ”Right now, I'm so hungry I could eat a . . .” He doubted the spell would translate as ”horse,” but he dared not take that chance. ”. . . tree.”

Mabix completed what was, apparently, a common saying, ”. . . two shrubs, three beehives, and a garden.””That, too,” Collins added, to his companions' amus.e.m.e.nt. He found himself liking them and hoped his theft would not reflect badly on them or cost them their jobs.

The man inclined his head toward one of the buildings. Reminded of their purpose, he and Lyra started walking. Collins and Falima followed.

They stopped in front of one of the guardhouses, animals noting their pa.s.sage with curious looks.

Collins felt like he had entered a dim, creepy house where the eyes of pictures seemed to fix on anyone who pa.s.sed. ”Bring your pack,” Mabix said. ”I'll show you to your quarters.” Without waiting for Collins to obey, he shoved open the door and entered. ”Hope you two don't mind sharing.”

Collins tried to sound matter-of-fact. ”Not at all.” He supposed it made sense to part-time animals that they house men and women in the same barracks, even the same rooms. He wondered how many accidental marriages and out-of-wedlock births this created in buildings at least half full of stallions. He undid all the clasps, clips, and ties with Lyra's a.s.sistance, shouldered the pack, and trotted after Mabix.

The door opened onto a common room strewn with clothes, bits of food, and half-finished games of chess and dice. Crude, mismatched furniture, mostly constructed from crates and barrels, interrupted the vast chaos. If not for the lanterns instead of overhead lights and the lack of a television, it could have pa.s.sed for the recreation room of most men's dormitories. Smaller doors led off in several directions.

Crossing the room, Mabix knocked on one of the doors before opening it.

Through the portal, Collins saw a square, windowless room the size of a large bathroom. Three rolled up pallets leaned in one corner, a pile of chamber pots in the other. A chair crafted from a quarter-cut barrel stood pushed against a wall. A cus.h.i.+on affixed to a circular piece of wood lay on the floor beside it, apparently the seat.

Mabix squeezed past Lyra and Collins in the doorway, picked up the cus.h.i.+on, and pointed into the seat. ”You can store your gear here.”

Where? Collins followed Mabix and examined the chair. He saw a hole where his backside would usually go, creating a good-sized hollow that ended with a thick wooden bottom. Clearly, it served as a neat storage area as well as a piece of furniture once the cus.h.i.+on was balanced on top of the opening.

About to say something about the cleverness of its inventor, Collins held his tongue instead. For all he knew, everyone had these in their homes.

Mabix noticed Collins studying the arrangement. ”Convenient, huh?”

”Very.” Collins let a bit of his respect seep into his tone.

Lyra added, ”Craftsman who came up with that design won himself a permanent place on the king's staff.

Mabix bobbed his head. ”A Random, too. On the king's staff. Can you believe it?”

”Wow,” Collins replied, holding back a storm of questions he could never ask his Random companions. He swung the pack to the floor, feeling trapped. He had to leave it so Falima would have clothes and access to the makeup, but he hated to risk losing it. Suddenly, he realized he had no reason to hide that piece of information. ”You know, I think I'd better put it back on . . .”He caught himself about to say ”Falima.” ”. . . on Marlys. She gets cold easily and likes to dress as soon as possible.” He had originally planned to say she felt uncomfortable naked among strangers but liked what came out of his mouth better. How do you like that? I can think on my feet. A less wholesome thought followed, Or am I just becoming a better liar? Winning over Korfius and Vernon had certainly given him plenty of practice.

Collins looked at the pack, as if noticing it for the first time. ”She's due to switch pretty soon.” He wondered if he had just made a crucial blunder. As partners, they ought to know one another's habits well enough that he would never have removed the pack in the first place.

But, if Lyra or Mabix thought the same way, neither revealed it. They headed back outside without another word or anything Collins would consider knowing glances. Falima grazed placidly among a small group of horses and one mule. As he reattached the pack, Collins found himself wondering about the long-earred animal. In his world, they came from breeding a donkey with a horse and were always sterile. He wondered how that applied here and how it affected the creature's human form.

Stop it! Collins blamed nervousness for his thoughts taking off in a trained but unhelpful direction.Focus! Casually, he poked a hand into his pocket, seized his watch, and glanced surrept.i.tiously at it around folds of fabric. It now read 5:50 p.m., only ten minutes before Falima's switch. He needed to draw the guards away from her so she could have the privacy necessary to affect her disguise. ”Now, about that tree I plan to eat . . .”

Mabix laughed, taking the hint. ”I'll walk you to the dining hall. It's getting on toward dinner anyway, so you'll have a chance to meet a good bunch of the guards and staff.”

Lyra made a throwaway gesture, and Mabix nodded. ”She needs to return to her post.” He took Collins' elbow, steering him toward the castle as Lyra headed back toward the gatehouses. ”I'll have to get back myself, as soon as I've got you settled in. Can you do all right on your own?”

Still stuck on the realization that he would share the dining hall with a crowd, Collins forced a nod. ”I'll do fine.” He hoped he spoke truth. He was hungry, but he would have to feign starvation. So long as he had his mouth full, he would not have to answer questions. He only hoped dinner would not consist of a plateful of bugs as large as puppies. His mind conjured images of enormous beetles, crisply browned, legs stretched upward with turkey caps on all six drumsticks.

Mabix stopped suddenly, halfway down the courtyard path to the castle. ”Didn't you say your partner would switch soon?”

The query put Collins on his guard, though it seemed foolish to lie. ”Yes. Yes, I did.”

”Won't she want to join us for dinner?”

Collins thought it best to leave Falima alone, at least for the change. ”No,” he said, fighting down an edge of terror. ”No, she . . . she doesn't like to eat right after. The combination of rich food piled on a bellyful of gra.s.s.” He wrinkled his features. ”Bothers her.”