The left corner of Zylas’ mouth twitched. “Because I . . . like you. I want you to make it home safely.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Collins did not believe the answer, though he knew of no reason for Zylas to lie. Experience suggested the rat/man wanted the stone for whatever magic remained in it after Prinivere created the portal. His own cynicism conjured a frown. He rescued me from hanging. He’s risked his neck for me several times since. Shouldn’t he get something for his effort?
The thought was less comforting than Collins expected. Nameless dread edged through the soothing world he had built with friendships, trust, and the understanding that a way existed for him to go home. He was missing something that his companions found too obvious to tell him, something he did not even know enough about to ask, something that might determine whether or not he survived the world of Barakhai. A breeze dragged a strand of mouse-brown hair into Collins’ eye and sent a wild shiver through him. He only hoped the omission would not prove a fatal one.
Chapter 13
With Zylas pacing like a maniac, Benton Collins found it impossible to enjoy his break, despite the beauty of the day and Falima’s soft nose and fur. Jorge Martinez, his lab partner during freshman year, had been fond of the expression “fake it till you make it.” For half an hour, Collins tried to follow that advice, ignoring his agitated companion to focus on the calm animal that was his other one. But, over time, Zylas’ frenzy became contagious. Falima pranced dangerously, forcing Collins to give her some space. With a sigh, he headed back into the cave, Zylas following. “Respite finished?”
“Sadly, yes.” Collins searched for his memories of the castle’s description. He glanced toward the chests; but, deciding he would rather have a backrest than height, chose a seat on the floor near the exit instead. He wriggled backward until his spine touched stone. “What do you want to talk about?”
Zylas removed his hat and pulled white hair away from his face, holding it behind his head. “First, I want to hear your version of the castle, make sure you’ve got the details. Then we can start discussing strategy.”
Collins nodded, simultaneously lauding and cursing Zylas’ thoroughness. The constant need to concentrate made him dizzy, but he knew his life might well depend on careful attention to details. He drew a verbal picture of the castle walls and grounds, the moat, the tents and outbuildings in the courtyards, the location of every door and portcullis. As he did so, he tried to put a visual image to his narration, a more difficult process than he expected. Most people learned better from pictures than words, but he had always found his memory worked the opposite way. It made him better at standardized tests, where every concept was reduced to text; but it meant he had to work harder than his peers in the hands-on world of the laboratory.
Collins shifted his focus to wards and guards, then switched to the interior. There, he faltered, requiring Zylas’ assistance to recall which room lay where, who or what he might encounter there, and the best routes to the upper levels which most likely housed the magical crystal. Frustrated, Collins tried to sidetrack Zylas for a few moments. “How do you know so damn much about this place?”
“Been there,” Zylas said, barely an explanation.
Collins guessed, “Did you work there? A servant, maybe?”
“Vermin? Invited into the castle?” Zylas laughed with a mirth so genuine, Collins could not help joining him.
Ialin zipped into the cave, buzzing frantic circles around Zylas. The laughter broke off abruptly. Zylas sprang to his feet, expression tense, edgy, with a touch of fear.
“What?” Collins also rose, but Zylas waved him back and silent. The albino crept toward the cave mouth, head cocked.
Suddenly, a hound bayed, the sound close.
Collins jumped, heart hammering.
Zylas charged from the cave toward Falima. “Get the lady out!”
Out? Out where? Uncertain whether Zylas intended the command for him or for Ialin, Collins ran toward the dragon. Before he reached her, a brown-and-white dog bounded into the cave, barking madly. Toenails scrabbled against stone as it attempted to stop. Instead, it skidded, long legs buckling, ears flopping. It bashed into a chest, which sent the dog caroming practically into the dragon’s lap. Prinivere jerked awake, wings unfolding, a hiss escaping her massive mouth between rows of pointed teeth. Whatever she actually ate, nature clearly intended her to be a carnivore.
The dog let out a squeak of surprise, followed by a string of desperate whimpers. It scuttled backward, bashing into Collins’ legs, then rolled its eyes to him in terror and hope. Thrown to a crouch, Collins met the dog’s gaze and recognized him instantly. “Korfius!” He dropped to his knees.
Still loosing panting whines, the dog crawled onto Collins’ legs.
“Zylas, it’s Korfius.” Collins petted the dog all over, as it tried to fit its entire body onto him.
Zylas hauled Falima into the cave. “I don’t see or hear any more dogs. He’s either way ahead of a pack or alone.” He glanced wildly around the cave. “When’s his change time?”
Collins glanced at his watch, which read nearly 1:00. He recalled how Korfius had switched forms in his arms while hiding in Vernon’s false wall. “I’d say just about now.”
“Now?” Zylas leaped to Collins’ side with an abruptness that sent Falima into a half-rear. “We’ve got to get him out before—” He grabbed the dog by the nape of the neck, and Korfius let out a startled yelp.
Zylas pulled, dragging the dog from Collins’ lap. Korfius’ dark eyes implored Collins. He planted his feet against stone, and Zylas struggled to move him. “Help me here, would you?”
Collins stood, uncertain exactly what to do. Korfius threw his head back and forth, trying to break free of Zylas’ grip, which tightened as he surely worried about getting bitten. Korfius’ form blurred.
Zylas cursed.
Falima whinnied tensely, then bolted from the cave.
Zylas let out a string of curses, which translated strangely as everything from bodily functions, to disasters, mythical creatures, and filth. He let go.
Korfius writhed as his forelegs became arms, features grew or disappeared, fur receded. Soon, a naked boy on all fours replaced the dog form, stammering a single word, “Dr-dr-dr-dr-dragon. It’s a dragon.” He looked directly at Collins. “I saw a dragon.” He whipped his head to Zylas. “A real dragon.” Finally, he turned his attention to Prinivere. “Dragon.” He rose with slow, careful movements and drifted toward her as if in a daze. “Excuse me, but are you really a dragon?”
*I am, young man,* Prinivere returned. *My name is Prinivere.*
Zylas paced, wringing his hands.
Unself-consciously naked, Korfius bowed. “Deeply honored to meet you, Lady Prinivere. I’m Korfius.”
*So I gathered.* The dragon settled back down. Only then, Collins noticed the black hole behind her, apparently the escape Zylas had wanted him to use. He wondered why he had not seen it before and decided the dragon had fully stolen his attention. Most of the time, her enormous, sleeping form had blocked it.
Falima trumpeted out a neigh.
“Now what?” Zylas muttered, rushing to the entrance just as a savagely panting Vernon threw himself inside.
“I’m . . . sorry,” the black man gasped out. “I . . . tried to . . . stop . . . him, but . . .” He paused for several beats to concentrate on breathing. “. . . he’s quick.”
“Got one hell of a nose, too.” Zylas held out a hand to assist his friend, but Vernon chose to remain on the ground for the moment.
Korfius drew himself up proudly. “Best sniffer in my brigade.”
Collins remembered how Korfius had found them in the flowering tree when the other hounds had not. He nodded. “No doubt.”
“A dragon.” Korfius seemed incapable of getting past that word. He turned stiffly to Collins. “Your Majesty, you keep interesting company.” He bowed. “And I am at your service.”
&
nbsp; Collins glanced at Zylas, who nodded with wary encouragement. “Korfius, I’ve already told you the best way to serve me.”
“I know, Sire—”
“Just Ben,” Collins reminded.
“I know . . .” Korfius clearly struggled mightily, but managed to blurt out, “Ben. But I want to help, to be a part of this.” His wide-eyed gaze fell on the dragon again, though he did not say the word this time. “A guard superior, a royal, and a . . . a dragon.” The reverent tone gained strength with each naming.
“I’m staying with you. Seeing this through. You might need me!”
Once more, Collins glanced at Zylas for support. He wished the other man would say something. After all, Zylas was more likely to have the necessary knowledge to handle this situation; but Collins also knew that maintaining the illusion of his royalty required him to speak. “What I don’t need is a couple of worried parents sending an entire guard force after me.” It seemed almost moot, as they already tracked him on a murder charge. “Nor do I need to add a kidnapping rap.”
“Parents?” Korfius laughed. “Don’t worry about my parents. They’re extremely lesariat. I’m from a litter of seven . . .”
Collins took his cue from Zylas, whose eyes went round as coins and whose lips glided open in clear surprise.
“. . . and as far as they’re concerned, they’re finished raising me. I’m on my own.”
Though it seemed easier with his parents out of the equation, Collins could not imagine any mother not worrying about her missing child. Put it in animal terms, he reminded himself. Once the puppies hit somewhere between six and ten weeks, the parents often don’t even recognize them. Cynically, he wondered if whoever was in charge of the city would prove more diligent about his “best sniffer” then the parents were over their missing septuplet. Zylas’ reaction made it clear that multiple births were not the norm, despite the time spent as animals. From the way Korfius stated it, Collins guessed that the ones more anchored in animal form had a higher likelihood of more than one offspring at a time. “Well, then,” Collins said, surprised by his own words. “Perhaps I could use your help.”
Zylas’ jaw, already dangling from the litter comment, now positively fell. “Um . . . Ben. Could I speak to you for a moment?”
Though tempted to say “no,” which would leave Zylas completely defenseless, Collins excused himself from Korfius, telling the boy to put some clothes on, and then followed his pale companion to the cave mouth.
Zylas barely waited until they got beyond hearing range. “What the hell are you doing?”
Collins wondered if the concept of hell as he knew it actually existed in this world, then shrugged off the thought. None of his companions seemed overly religious, and he saw no need to create a possible rift. “What do you mean?”
Zylas kept his voice at a bare hiss, though he clearly would have preferred to yell. “I mean, you just invited a kid along.”
“What did you want me to do?” Collins finally realized what his subconscious had much earlier. “Send him back to whatever that town was that’s hunting us knowing all about your precious lady?”
Zylas swallowed hard.
“Well?”
“That,” Zylas said thoughtfully, “can’t happen.” A look of sharp terror took over his features, so intense that Collins felt fear prickling up his spine as well.
Collins fell silent, uncertain whether he wished to encourage Zylas any longer.
“What are we going to do?”
You’re asking me? Collins raised his brows, throwing the question right back to his uncomfortable companion.
“They’ll hunt her down and kill her.”
Collins continued to study Zylas. The other option, killing a child to keep her secret, seemed even more heinous. “Zylas,” he started carefully, not at all certain where he planned to go from there.
“You’re right,” Zylas interrupted. “We have to keep him with us. And quiet.” He stomped a foot. “Damn! Why did he have to . . .” He trailed off with a noise of frustration.
“I’m sure Vernon did everything he could.”
“Yeah. I trust—” Zylas’ nostrils flared. “We’ve got to get out of here.” He looked past Collins. “If one dog could follow our scent, others could.”
Collins was not convinced of that.
“Or, they might just follow his scent.”
That seemed much more likely. “Can Prinivere travel?”
“She should be able to make it to another of her . . .” Zylas ended lamely, “. . . places now.” Apparently seized by another thought, he added, “In fact, she should go now, before she switches.”
About eighteen hours had passed since Collins had seen Prinivere in human form. Somehow, he doubted she had to take any drugs to keep her dragon-time longer. Given that she could use all her higher functions as a dragon, plus magic and a vastly extended life-span, he suspected she considered it her more advanced form.
Zylas headed back toward Prinivere. “My lady,” he said as he moved. “Forgive the abruptness of our departure, but I think it best if we all go as soon as possible.” He put a subtle emphasis on the word “all” which Collins took to mean he wanted her to know that she should take off also.
*He’s just a boy,* Prinivere sent, Collins presumed to him and Zylas, at least, and certainly not to Korfius who still stared at her with undisguised awe. *Don’t do anything rash.*
“I won’t,” Zylas promised. “Unless it becomes absolutely necessary. But we can’t risk . . .” He glanced at Korfius, as if to read how much of the one-sided conversation he might fathom, “. . . you. And I don’t know many . . .” he hedged, as if seeking a code word, then brightened. Casually, he removed the rose quartz stone from his pocket and set it on an irregularity in the rocky wall. He switched to broken English, surely aware only Collins and Prinivere could understand him. “. . . child can’t hold secret. Will . . .” He struggled, then touched the stone. “. . . caution.” He removed his fingers and returned to English. “But if it comes to a decision—your life or his—I have no choice, my lady.”
*I’m old,* she reminded.
“But got at least as many years left as he.” Zylas inclined his head toward Korfius. “And need—” He struggled again; but, this time, did not resort to the translation stone. “—other life depend—” He glanced at Collins and fell silent, then scooped up his stone and returned it to his pocket. “Let’s go,” he growled in clear frustration.
Collins remained silent throughout the exchange, quietly putting the details together. Clearly, Korfius’ finding them threw Zylas into a terrible dilemma. He had to keep Korfius quiet about Prinivere, not just for the duration of Collins’ time here, but forever. Collins did not envy him that position; he could not kill a regular dog, let alone one who became a boy at intervals. Yet, Zylas had a loyalty to Prinivere that transcended Collins’ understanding.
Collins and Zylas packed their gear in a tense hush punctuated only by occasional sighs from the rat/man. Collins did not press, certain his companion would speak in his own time. He did not have the words to comfort, so the best he could do was to listen.
Korfius seemed to share none of Zylas’ consternation, chattering at the dragon with an exuberance Collins could not ever remember having. Apparently, the dragon answered him privately and with infinite patience, because Korfius kept bouncing and talking, often not waiting long enough for Prinivere to possibly have addressed the question before zipping off another. Shortly, they had everything, and Zylas signaled for everyone to go.
Korfius obediently bounded from the cave, Zylas and Collins behind him and Ialin hovering anxiously. Falima made no complaint as Zylas lashed the pack to her back then assisted Korfius astride, still talking.
“I can’t believe I’m helping a royal and a dragon. A real dragon. I can’t believe there really even is a real dragon to help. A real, live dragon.”
Zylas looked as tense as a depressed spring.
Collins placed a hand o
n Korfius’ calf. “Listen, little buddy.”
Korfius turned him a happy look.
“Remember how I told you this was secret?”
“Yes, I . . .” Korfius turned thoughtful, features screwed up in apparent pain. “Oh. Does that mean . . . ?”
“Yes,” Collins said firmly, though the boy had never completed the question. “You can’t tell anyone about Lady Prinivere.”
“Ever?” The word seemed driven from his lips.
“Ever.” Collins confirmed in a voice he hoped brooked no further questioning.
“Not even—”
To emphasize the point, Collins did not let Korfius finish. “Not even.”
“But I didn’t get to—”
“Doesn’t matter. Not anyone. Ever.” Collins dusted his hands to show the matter had ended, with no further discussion necessary or desirable. “It’s as simple as that.”
“Oh,” Korfius said barely audibly. He hunched, disappointment clear from his stance as well as his features. “Well. At least, I’ll get to help?” His tone suggested defeat, and he clearly expected Collins to burst his one last bubble.
“Of course, you can help,” Collins said cheerfully, though he had no idea how. Knowing he would likely have to give Korfius a “busy” job, he added, “There are no small roles in the service of good and justice.” He rather liked the sound of his own words and wondered whether he had just created them, as he believed, or if his subconscious had revived it from some long-ago comic book.
“I can’t believe I met a . . .” This time, Korfius caught himself before he said, “dragon.”
Collins made a “zip your lip” motion.
Though he could not understand the reference, Korfius apparently got the implication. He mimicked the gesture and fell silent.
As they headed off in a new direction, Collins glanced around. “Where’s Vernon?”
Zylas continued to look worriedly between Collins and Korfius. “He’ll get the lady off safely, then head back home.” He held Collins’ gaze. “We need him there.”
The Beasts of Barakhai Page 19