Collins anticipated a verbal onslaught from Ialin about how he should feel grateful for what the dragon sacrificed for him, but it did not come. The hummingbird /man stood in silence, letting Zylas answer.
The albino patted one of the chests, then sat. Collins came over, taking the place beside the one person he trusted completely in this world.
Zylas stared at the ceiling for several moments, collecting his thoughts before beginning. “I’m as masuniat as they come . . .” He paused.
Collins remembered masuniat as the word for people more entrenched in their human than animal forms. He nodded his understanding.
“ . . . I don’t know a thing about magic except what the lady has told me. But—” Zylas glanced around at his companions’ expectant faces. “As I understand it, the spell she just threw is a particularly simple one. She’s old, even for a dragon; that and simple healings are the extent of her magic nowadays.” He turned the tender look of a grandson upon the sleeping creature. “I wouldn’t dare ask her to do even the spell she just cast again. Next time, it might kill her.”
“She made your translation stone,” Collins suggested.
Zylas shook his head. “She has made translation stones, but not mine and not in the last few decades. Making spells portable, casting onto rocks and crystals, takes a lot more energy than just throwing a bit of magic at someone.” He displayed the piece of quartz. “And I told you mine’s unique. Centuries old and very special. A family heirloom.”
Ialin balanced, cross-legged, on the other chest, listening. Falima sat beside Collins, opposite Zylas. Attempting to anticipate Zylas’ point, Collins considered whether or not creating a portal would require an item. He clung to the memory of Prinivere stating that she might have the power to make one.
“We already know Lady Prinivere does not have the strength to magic another stone.”
Collins could not hold back the significant query any longer. “A portal?”
Zylas bit his lip and met Collins’ gaze, clearly measuring his reaction. “Or make a portal.”
Collins felt horse-kicked. “But she said—”
Zylas raised a forestalling hand. “There is a crystal, already made, that can enhance her magic.”
Though reborn, Collins’ hope remained guarded. It seemed that every time something started going his way, something worse intervened. “Don’t tell me. It’s in the possession of an eight-headed hydra.”
“No.”
“A werewolf?”
“What?”
“A giant; the minotaur; Medusa; titans; the bogey-man; a fire-breathing, man-eating demon vampire unicorn.” Having exhausted his repertoire of monsters, Collins fell silent, hands folded across his lap. Anything they mentioned now had to sound puny in comparison.
All three regarded him with open-mouthed curiosity.
“So.” Collins broke the silence. “From who or what do we have to get this crystal thingy?”
“Um,” Zylas said, licking his lips. “We think the king has it.”
“And there’s no ‘we’ to it,” Ialin added sulkily.
Surprised he had actually gotten things close to right, Collins brought up the matter he had expected to come to light first. “Couldn’t we just ask someone with younger magic for help?”
Zylas smiled weakly. “Lady Prinivere has the youngest magic we know of.”
Shocked, Collins leaned backward. “You mean you know someone older?”
Ialin slapped his own forehead. “You numbskull! She’s the only one with magic any of us knows. She’s the last dragon. Ipso facto, the last user of magic.”
Surprised to hear Latin from his alien friends, Collins let the insult pass. He wondered what Ialin might possibly have said in Barakhain that the magic would translate into “ipso facto” rather than “therefore.” Collins went for funny. “So, in your quaint lovable way, you’re trying to tell me that only dragons have magic.”
“Exactly.” Ialin ignored the sarcasm.
“And Lady Prinivere is the last dragon. And as far as practically anyone knows, she doesn’t even exist.”
“Right,” Zylas confirmed.
That left an enormous gap in Collins’ understanding. “Then why would magic be illegal?” He patted Zylas’ pocket to indicate the translation stone. “Wouldn’t people just assume it doesn’t exist?”
This time, Falima answered. “Because of item magic, rare stuff left behind from the days when dragons were commonplace.”
“Centuries ago,” Collins remembered. “Does the king know about Lady Prinivere?”
“No,” they all chorused with a suddenness and expressions that revealed such a thing would prove catastrophic. Zylas added, “What a horrible thought.”
Certain they meant that the king would have Prinivere executed, Collins continued his questioning. “Does he know this crystal thingy is magical?”
Still wide-eyed and pursed-lipped, the others fell into an uncomfortable hush before Zylas answered.
“We don’t know.”
Collins tried to put everything together. “So, if I fetch this crystal and bring it back, Prinivere can make a portal for me?”
Nods circumnavigated the room.
Finally, something Ialin had said sank in. “What did you mean, ‘there’s no “we” to it?’ That I have to get this thing all by myself?”
Ialin flicked his head in a birdlike fashion. “You’re not as stupid as I thought.”
Collins smiled. “Thanks. That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to or about me so far.” He looked accusingly at Zylas. “Let’s face it. A magic amplifier doesn’t just help me. Long after I’m gone, you can use it to make and do all kinds of things. Why wouldn’t you guys help me get it?”
Falima developed an inordinate interest in her feet. Ialin yawned, leaving only Zylas to answer. “We don’t really know what this crystal can do. It’s possible it only works one time.” He glanced at the others for help, but Falima headed across the cave to check on Prinivere and Ialin got caught up in a luxurious stretch. “But mainly, it’s because the royal chambers can only be accessed by stable people.”
Still in half-stretch, Ialin clarified. “Meaning people without a switch-form.” His tone suggested that he did not believe Collins fit the other definition of “stable.”
“We switchers would get caught for sure,” Falima added from across the room. “And killed. But you . . .”
. . . are already condemned to die? Collins believed he had uncovered the real reason, one his companions would never say aloud.
“ . . . won’t set off the security. If you did get caught, you could pass yourself off as minor nobility come to learn, to valet, or to assist,” Falima finished.
“Sure. Except I know nothing about any of those things.” Collins could not stop himself from arguing, though it would do him no good. If he wanted to go home, he had to get this crystal. He might die in the attempt, but remaining in Barakhai without the support of his friends also would result in his swift demise. He might just as well charge the archers guarding the other portal and get it over with swiftly.
Ialin addressed the spoken thought. “You don’t have to know much about nobility. Just the fact that you don’t switch should keep you safe there. Who would suspect you’re not of this world?”
Collins refused to put too much faith in that explanation. “Perhaps the royal archers guarding the portal?”
Ialin interjected, almost too quickly. “From what I heard while spying, they just know there’s something magical there that bears watching. They’re not going to let anyone near it.”
Collins tried to logically consider what the authorities in his world would do with something similar. “Until someone explores it thoroughly?”
“More likely, wall it up so no one can use it or get hurt by it. Seek a way to destroy it.”
Collins looked to Zylas, who shrugged and nodded. Though he knew American politicians and scientists would feel compelled to explore any anomaly until they gl
eaned every possible detail, he could understand where a civilization still in its more primitive stages might prefer avoidance to investigation. Especially a place where magic and dragons are, or at least were, real. So far, the only ones who believed he had come from another world were people who had traveled there and their closest companions. Apparently, the authorities had not figured out the purpose of the portal, though likely their study and discovery of it came as a direct result of the crime he had committed nearby.
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 gratitude. “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’ pronouncement.
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 shifted 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 his professors 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
Ashake 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 amusement on his homely, androgynous features. The dragon shimmered 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 multitude 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 anticipated 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.”
Assaulted 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 assaulted 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 sh
e had gone to switch, Collins walked toward the group to give Falima more privacy. As they passed 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 grassy 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-rehearsed 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 passed 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.
The Beasts of Barakhai Page 17