Part 6 (1/2)

”No.” The second one glanced at the two arms, brow scrunched, obviously thinking deeply. Collins recalled holding his breath, wondering what a guileless preschooler might blurt out when it came to a child of a different race. ”Shelby's black,” she finally said. ”We're brown.”

And, Collins realized now with an adult biologist's perspective, the girl was right. The racial differences that seemed so important to some people came down to little more than the quant.i.ty ofmelanin in their skin. All humans, except albinos like Zylas, were some shade of brown. Human hair, too, varied only in the amount and intensity of its brownness, which was why so many elderly men appeared to have smeared shoe polish on their heads when they tried to recapture the ”black” of their youths.

Falima's long tresses, however, defied the rule: true, deep, animal in their blackness. It was only one of several exoticisms that might make her seem freakish in his world, that made her consider herself unattractive in her own. Too animal, she had once told him, too much overlap between her horse appearance and her human one.

The timing of Falima's change also made her less desirable to the men of Barakhai, as daytime humanity was considered superior. The conventions seemed arbitrary to Collins, who found her beauty nontraditional yet definitive. He enjoyed her solid, sinewy curves, though they did not resemble the gaunt perceived perfection of American models. Her unaugmented b.r.e.a.s.t.s, though not huge, complemented her figure; and the width of her hips and boy-roundness of her b.u.t.tocks might turn away the men of his world. Collins found her attractive despite the flaws she noticed in herself, and even the unnaturally golden skin added an interesting touch to an already extraordinary appearance.

Falima's voice broke the reverie. ”You've got that look again.”

”The one where I stare at you and look... hungry?”

Falima nodded. ”Yes. That one.”

Collins wondered if she still worried that he wanted to eat her. He had tried to convince her that no one in his part of the world consumed horsemeat and that he never wanted to try it. ”Can't help it. You're beautiful.”

Falima looked away demurely. ”I don't believe you, but I like when you say it.”

”Believe it,” Collins said, meeting and holding her gaze. Her eyes glimmered like sapphires in the dawn light, the windows to a soul equally charming. He knew he and Zylas could not leave for another six hours; Prinivere needed the albino's man-face on which to cast her illusion. He also realized that, if they planned to attend the castle's midday meal, they could not have touched down far from the palace. It was an enormous risk, but a necessary one. If they waited, Falima would have become a horse, difficult or impossible for Prinivere to carry. Everything they did had to revolve around switch times, and Collins realized again how inconvenient that became and how much power it granted full-time humans like Barakhai's royalty. And me.

Falima took Collins' hands. ”Be careful,” she whispered.

The interaction had grown too intense for Collins, who resorted, as usual, to humor. ”Careful? Naah.

Far more interesting to dive in there, battle-screaming, guns blasting, and go down in a blaze of glory.”

Falima blinked slowly. ”I-I didn't get everything you just said, but it sounds dangerous. Foolish.”

Falima's hands felt warm and st.u.r.dy. Collins laughed. ”Tome, too.” He stroked his chin in a mockery of thought. ”So I guess I'll go with your way. Careful, wasn't it?”

”Be careful,” Falima repeated emphatically. She leaned forward and kissed him.

Surprised, Collins could do nothing but stand there, enjoying the moist, spongy softness of her lips against his. Then, before he could move, before he could even think, she vanished into the cave, leaving him with the lingering taste of sweet clover and a smile creasing his face.

Collins sat on a rocky outcropping and looked out over the forest. The sun turned fiery, intensifying the colors of autumn. Not long ago, he would not have needed to ponder the significance of a beautiful woman's kiss. It meant good luck and, if things went awry, good-bye. He had another year and some months under his belt: his scrawny little bespectacled self transformed to a more average height and weight, his gla.s.ses more stylish, his dark hair cut to a proper length rather than the s.h.a.ggy disarray hislack of time and cash usually left it in. He dared to hope Falima's kiss meant something more.

The thought practically banished itself. What am I thinking? If I brought her back to Algary, she'd be a full-time horse. Miserable. And what kind of a relations.h.i.+p could we have? The mere contemplation of it struck Collins as silly, and he rolled his eyes at his own attempts to create an attraction where, surely, none existed. We're friends, nothing more. And it's perfectly normal to kiss a friend about to go off on a life-threatening mission. Finally, he headed into the cave with the others.

Korfius greeted Collins with a bark and excited prancing. He patted the dog, then, remembering the biscuits, pulled off his pack. He rummaged through it blindly, fingers gliding over toiletries and blundering into the towel. He identified shapes by feel: the mini tape recorder, the Snickers bars, his mag light. His groping fingers stopped there a moment, and he closed his eyes with a grimace of self-deprecation. Many of the conveniences he had packed relied on whatever stale batteries they contained, and he had no fresh ones. Had he planned to stay in Barakhai longer than a few hours, he might have searched for extras, though he rarely kept spares in his room. He relished the two-minute walk to the student union even on the coldest nights, and batteries tended to get lost or ruined in the junk drawer.

Finally, Collins found the dog biscuits. He worked his fingers into the hole in the plastic and emerged triumphantly with one. Antic.i.p.ating the command, Korfius sat, tail waving with excitement.

Collins gave the biscuit to the dog, who accepted it with a groan of grat.i.tude, then slid down to a comfortable position to eat it. Korfius had switched at 7:00 p.m. by Collins' watch, instead of his usual 8:00 P.m. Falima had ascribed that to the long time he had spent in dog form and his lesariat mindset.

Collins saw it as proof that the boy preferred his dog form and found solace in the boy's happiness and desire to stay in Collins' world.

Collins glanced around the cave for Falima. The buckskin horse lay on a flat area of the cave on top of her shed clothing. She snuffled at a vein of moss lining a crack in the cave wall hut made no attempt to eat it. Aisa perched on a crag, head turned backward and tucked against her wing. Zylas lay beside Prinivere, his rat form shockingly tiny beside the hulking ma.s.s of greenish black that took up most of the back of the cave. Ijidan had remained behind, his job to guard and supply the hideaway in the mountains.

Prinivere's voice touched Collins' mind. *Come get some sleep before, your trip.* Though she chose a neutral word for a possible suicide mission, the emotion in her sending made her concern obvious.

Collins nodded, feeling a bit jet-lagged by the time difference. He searched for a comfortable spot, doubting he could sleep on the uneven stone floor.

*Over by me,* Prinivere suggested. *Use my leg as a pillow.* She raised a foreclaw, then replaced it on the ground.

Collins hesitated. It seemed almost dishonorable, as if his comfort was more important to him than Prinivere's.

*It's all right.* The dragon glanced at the white rat snuggled against her. *If I'd let a dirty old rat do it, why not you?*

Apparently aware of the conversation, Zylas jerked up his head. ”Hey!” He sounded more amused than affronted, but Collins flinched. In Barakhai, vermin actually had the intelligence to understand their low station. The law even forbade their mating to create Regular offspring. Few wanted more rats or mice in Barakhai, and even snakes and frogs were considered vermin. Since everyone ate insects here, reptiles and amphibians did not serve the grand purpose they did in Collins' world.

”I don't think she meant any offense about you being a rat and all,” Collins said with a wink and a grin to show he was joking. ”She just meant you stink.”

”Oh, fine,” Zylas squeaked. ”That's much better.” He circled, seeking a more comfortable position.”At least my fur adds some warmth. I'm small enough to scratch any itch.” He added mischievously, ”And, by the way, compared to you I smell like roses.”

Collins muttered, ”Dead roses, maybe. Steeped in pickle juice and fox urine.”

”What?” Zylas said, with the innocent air of one who did not hear rather than the indignant tone of one who had.

Suddenly Collins wished he had kept his mouth shut, especially as the musky, allspice aroma of the dragon covered all other smells like a deodorant. The lab rats always smelled like cedar chips, and he had never found Zylas particularly malodorous. ''Nothing. Forget it.”

*He said,* Prinivere started, and Collins cringed, shaking his head vigorously in a silent plea for her to stop, *that either one of you smells better than any royal guard. You'll have to roll in rotting skunk weed just to pa.s.s.*

Thanks. Collins concentrated on the word, certain she understood.

*Now both of you get some sleep. You'll need your wits about you.*

Collins' humor turned self-deprecating, You're a.s.suming I have any. He snuggled against the dragon and found that her foot made an excellent pillow and she did give off body heat, which surprised him.

They're thinking dinosaurs might have been warm-blooded now, and they were egg layers. Why not a dragon?

*A lot of lives are relying on those wits of yours,* Prinivere restored the significance of Collins'

mission. *And believe me, you do have them, even if our world doesn't always make sense to you.*

It seemed redundant to respond to someone who could read his every thought, so Collins concentrated on sleep instead. He did not need to vocalize his appreciation for the dragon's trust, wisdom, and support. If she found goodness and reason in him, it had to be there. If she believed he had what it took to succeed, he surely must. Though she claimed only to read the superficial, she seemed capable of digging deeper into his mind and psyche than he could himself.

Despite excitement and worry, Collins drifted off to sleep.

Collins awakened to a gentle mental nudge moments before a rat dropped unceremoniously onto his chest. He opened his lids and looked cross-eyed at the small white-furred creature.

”Excellent,” Zylas squeaked. ”As recently as yesterday, you'd have jumped to the moon if I'd done that.”

I'd have jumped to Mars this time, if Prinivere hadn't warned me. Collins smiled and accepted the compliment. Zylas did not have to know the little secret he shared with the rat/man's lady. He glanced at his watch, which read 11:28 a.m.

Aisa perched on a boulder, in human form, watching the interaction. ”If he'd jumped to the moon, you'd have fallen off somewhere in between.” She turned Zylas a steep-led-eyebrow look. ”If you know he's a mite... jumpy, don't you think you should be more careful?”

Collins sat up, dumping Zylas into his lap.

”Probably,” the rat admitted, clambering to Collins' thigh. ”I'm just thinking it's better to accustom him to surprises. The king's guards won't tiptoe gently around him.”

”True.” Aisa tucked a knee between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and turned her steely gaze to Collins. ”But if they leap on him while he's sleeping, they deserve what they get.” She shook back her thick golden locks, and they fell right back into place. He liked the style on her, flattering to dainty features that gave no hint of the huge, black beak that adorned her face in her other form. Besides the rich yellow hair that perfectlymatched her chest feathers in parrot form and the pale eyes, the only remnant of her other form that Collins noticed was darkly rimmed lids. It appeared as if she applied eyeliner, a product he doubted existed in this primitive society; and it reminded him of the miniature black feathers that striped the otherwise bare skin patches on each macaw cheek.