Part 5 (2/2)

Collins' cheeks turned fiery. They had made him disrobe in front of everyone, worried about how he would stack up compared to the other men, mostly stallions, in Falima's life. ”Let's go inside,” he suggested coolly.Zylas laughed, dropped his bundle, and headed toward the cave.

Collins recognized the cloth as a crude dress and leggings before limping after his friend. ”I should have thought about bringing her clothes.” Gradually, the ache in his s.h.i.+n subsided, and his walk became less wobbly.

Apparently reading the guilt in Collins' tone, Zylas shrugged off the words. ”You're just not used to switchers and switch-forms.”

Collins did not let himself off so easily. ”Actually, I was looking forward to talking to Falima. I just wasn't thinking about the... whole nude thing.”

Zylas gestured Collins through the opening. ”All, so you knew you were hovering. I thought you might have been doing it without thinking.”

Hovering? Collins had considered his choosing to study the outdoors near Falima's switch time a coincidence; but, before he could say so, he caught sight of Prinivere.

The ancient, withered woman was sitting, eating with a vigor that belied her primeval appearance. She wore no clothing. Her skin was carved into wrinkles, loose upon her bony frame. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s sagged into her lap. Fine, white hair dangled to her shoulders. Her eyes were green, contrastingly vibrant, and catlike, with slitted pupils. She had no nose to speak of, just a pair of slitlike nostrils lost in the creases beneath her eyes.

”My lady.” Zylas made a short bow.

Collins pried his gaze from the dragon in human form and copied Zylas' gesture of respect. The stark contrasts that composed this woman drew his attention like nothing else in either world. She seemed so far past death, as though she could crumble to dust at a touch, yet strangely vivid and alive. She was utterly as.e.xual, yet the oddities of her appearance brought no feelings of revulsion. Had Collins caught his grandmother so exposed, he would have covered his eyes, to purge the image from memory; yet Prinivere gave him no such urge. Her nakedness simply was, a phenomenon of nature and without shame.

Clothing the dragon matriarch of Barakhai, even in his mind, seemed insolent.

Prinivere returned a nod of acknowledgment, barely glancing up from her meal.

Aisa hummed softly as she moved with slow deliberate-ness around the cave, serving Prinivere and tidying up around her. Ijidan occasionally crept in to swipe a piece of the dragon's bounty. Korfius remained huddled miserably in the corner, his snores rising and falling in regular rhythm.

Zylas dragged Collins to a back corner of the cave, speaking softly. ”All right. We've got less than a day to learn strategy, mannerisms, and voices, so pay attention.”

”Don't I always?” Collins grinned maliciously.

Zylas dropped to a crouch. ”Sure. You learn in your sleep.” Without awaiting a reply, he launched into the discussion. ”Here's the general plan: Orna and Narladin are off duty tomorrow. We've got moles set up to-”

Collins had to interrupt. ”Moles?”

Zylas blinked in obvious confusion. ”Not moles. Moles.”

Collins lowered himself to the floor beside Zylas, legs curled up beside him. ”Oh, that clears it right up.”

Evidently catching Collins' obvious sarcasm, Zylas crinkled his brow. ”We must have hit a snag in the translation magic. Are you really hearing ”moles'?”

Collins nodded, trying to unravel the mystery. The Barakhains rarely used animal slang, which brought a rush of understanding. ”You mean informants? Spies?”Zylas nodded vigorously, removing his hat in the cool shade of the cave and running it through his fingers. ”Right. They have a game of dice set up and... ” He glanced at Collins, clearly antic.i.p.ating another translation problem.

Collins gave another encouraging nod. ”We have dice.” He doubted the ones in Barakhai resembled the hard plastic black and white ones in his childhood board games, nor the translucent rainbows, speckles, and opaque colors of the gamers' dice. Recalling the ancient term ”bones” for the game, he guessed, ”You must make yours from bone? Am I right?”

”Bone?” Zylas s.h.i.+vered. ”Heavens no. That would be... disgusting... dishonorable to the dead.”

Missed that one. Collins tried again. ”Don't tell me. You use something more palatable. Like...

dung.”

”Shed antlers,” Zylas corrected. ”Carved into cubes. They engrave figures on each side: star, moon, sun, fire, water, and lightning. They're thrown. Depending on how they land in conjunction, you win or lose.” He could not help adding, ”Using dung for toys? That would be wasteful.”

Collins tried not to think about proper uses for excrement, but he could not quell his curiosity.

”Fertilizer?”

”And fuel. It burns nicely, depending on the type.”

Not wis.h.i.+ng to get involved in a conversation over the most useful forms of p.o.o.p, Collins returned to the subject at hand. ”So you've got some spies to distract these guards...”

”Orna and Narladin.”

”Orna and Narladin,” Collins repeated, knowing the names would have to flow properly off his tongue. ”Orna and Narladin. So we can move in in their places.”

”Right.” Zylas dropped deeper into his crouch. ”It's a good-sized game, and they'll keep it interesting.

What do you think is the best time to get in the royal rooms without being seen?”

”What do I think?” Surprised at having his opinion considered, Collins forgot to think. ”Night? When they're asleep?”

”Guards,” Zylas reminded. ”Everyone always expects problems at night. And don't forget about switch times.”

Collins forced himself to remember the last time he had infiltrated the castle. Then, he had moved in at mealtime, while nearly everyone gathered in one place, leaving the hallways essentially empty. The royalty made a production out of meals, all meeting together at the head table, while guards and servants occupied rows of tables in the dining hall. Collins had made it into their bedrooms without incident and might well have escaped undetected had he not stopped to pet a cat who, in his nervousness, he had forgotten would also be human. ”During dinner?” he suggested next. ”I could excuse myself early, and you could watch for anyone who might compromise me. It shouldn't take me long to check out a few rooms. It's not like they could hide dragons in a foot locker or under the bed.” He paused, considering.

Scientists believed the largest dinosaurs hatched from eggs the size of footb.a.l.l.s. ”Or could they?”

Zylas seemed surprised by the question. ”Not in one piece. Even young dragons are huge.”

The answer reminded Collins that Prinivere had once surprised him with the a.s.sertion that dragons gave birth to live-born young, not eggs. He revised his expectation to compare baby dragons to mammals rather than reptiles. Though much smaller than their parents, even newborn elephants and whales would overwhelm the capacity of most furniture.

Apparently unaware of Collins' distraction, Zylas returned to the plan. ”Dinnertime sounds good to me. Now all we have to do is learn to pa.s.s for the guards we're impersonating.”Collins groaned. That seemed like an impossible task. His one maternal uncle shared only his mother's maiden name, which she never used. He looked like their mother, she like their father. They even lived in different states. Nevertheless, a new employee at Collins' mother's workplace had pegged them as siblings based only on mannerisms. He did not believe most people were quite that observant, but basic changes in his friends' demeanors or behaviors might raise some red flags. Yeah, but would I a.s.sume imposters? Collins shook his head. I might accuse them of becoming pod people, but I wouldn't really believe it. ”All right,” Collins said, resigned though filled with doubts as to why he had allowed himself to get talked into doing this. Again. ”How do I become Orna?”

To Collins' surprise, he found the ride to the lowlands more exhilarating than frightening. To decrease their chance of being discovered, Prinivere glided low over the mountaintops and hills, skimming the tops of the trees and using her wings mostly for balance and banking. She made the occasional leathery flap with a slow solidness that barely stirred the air around them. Clinging to her back, rather than suspended from a claw, Collins settled into a st.u.r.dy crevice between back and wing muscles and enjoyed the view.

The ground did not seem that far below him; he believed he could survive a fall. The wind felt like gentle fingers rus.h.i.+ng through his dark brown hair and caressing his face. Bathed in twilight, the world seemed vibrant with magic, the greenery a vivid emerald untainted by smog or artificial light.

In rat form, Zylas planted his forepaws on Collins' knee to look out over the landscape without losing the safety of the inner crook of the American's jeans. Falima settled into another niche in Prinivere's musculature. Korfius sat between the humans, doggy head outstretched to catch the wind in his face, tongue lolling, ears flying like streamers. Aisa perched near the base of Prinivere's tail, flapping her wings and squawking every time a movement off-balanced her.

They touched down on an outcropping that jutted into dense forest. Prinivere folded her wings and lowered her head, her breathing a heavy wheeze beneath the rustle of autumn leaves in the wind. Still in place, Collins looked out over the trees. Leaves in myriad shapes and sizes clung to the branches, their green shot through with amber, shades of ginger, and brilliant slices of scarlet. He especially liked the star-shaped leaves of a gnarled tree that did not exist in his world, and he wondered if he could drive the botany professors wild by claiming to have found it on one of Algary's walkways.

With a squeak, Zylas leaped over Collins' leg and slid down Prinivere's side, a reminder for Collins to do the same. Careful not to hurt the dragon, he scooted across her scales on his b.u.t.tocks, not daring to stand on her back. When they had all dismounted, Prinivere wordlessly trudged into a cave, leaving Collins, Falima, Korfius, Aisa, and Zylas outside. The animals scampered after the old dragon, leaving Collins and Falima alone, both studying the vast expanse of forest.

Falima cleared her throat. ”I'm going to switch again soon and won't be back until after you and Zylas... go.”

Collins turned to look at her. The twilight sparked a rainbow of highlights through her ebony hair, including blue and green. It brought back a long lost memory of a fifth-grade babysitter who had watched him after school while his mother worked. The sitter had a black Labrador retriever named Shelby who was very shy around adults but loved and protected the children. One day, an anxious three-year-old girl who was the sitter's only African-American charge approached a Caucasian preschooler with a deep tan.

”Look,” the first girl started, excitedly comparing their arms. ”You're black, just like me.”

<script>