The lost Dragons of Barakhai

Chapter 2

THROUGH the doorway of the ruins, Collins looked down on a sea of royal aqua and white. The soldiers in front stood in regimented lines, their uniforms unadorned, their mail pristine, and their heads bare. Their hair ranged from snowy-white to ebony, and their skin spanned nearly as broad a range. Most clutched spears and some carried swords through the wide black sashes that served as belts. Dogs of myriad shapes, colors, and sizes meandered through the troops or stood attentively among the men. Toward the back, the mounted soldiers wore iron helms and the white portions of their uniforms bore a spattering of stretched, blue-green clovers.

"Damn," Collins said, his awed and nervous expletive no louder than Zylas' grossly understated, "Uh-oh."

Collins added carefully, "We're in an almighty colossal shit load of trouble." He waited for his friend to contradict him, to assure him that the renegades had expected and planned for this confrontation, but Zylas gave him nothing.

The front line leveled its spears. "Halt!" a commander yelled at Collins and his friends. "No one move."

"Zylas?" Collins implored in a desperate whisper. His animal companions, he knew, had an out. They could race back through the magical portal and hope none of the guards in their horse or dog forms dared to follow. And leave me in Weirdoland to face an army alone. The idea seemed reprehensible, yet Collins turned to seal his fate. At least, Falima and Korfius, the woman and the child, should seize what little security they still had.

Korfius crouched, growling deep in his throat. Falima rummaged through the debris in woman form, as naked as a newborn and no more self-conscious.

Collins groaned, the irony clear even through rising dread. At their darkest hour, every companion but Korfius had been caught in his smallest, weakest form, It's up to me. He glanced out over the horde, at least a hundred strong. And I'm not going to win by overpowering them. He considered his possessions, hoping he had included some object he could use to shock and intimidate the soldiers. He dared not make a motion large enough to unsling his backpack. Instead, his hand strayed to his pocket, sifting through loose change and lint. No simple parlor trick, no random display of technology, would work here. One of the king's advisers, Carrie Quinton, came from his world; and the soldiers already knew that Collins did, too.

Before Collins could think to do anything, Falima charged past him with a bellow of fury, brandishing a stick in each hand.

"No!" Collins threw himself at the woman, missed, and rolled through the doorway toward the massed soldiers. Clearly surprised, they withdrew, and two fell beneath Falima's crazed assault. Korfius dove for another, driving him to the ground before several dogs closed in on the writhing man and dog.

"No!" Collins yelled. "Stop it." Still hoping to find something significantly exciting to astonish the warriors, he thumbed the test button on the beeper clipped to his belt and whipped the wheel toward maximum volume. Its squeal shrilled over the din.

The combatants hesitated, and all eyes jerked to Collins. Fine, you did it. Now what?

An enormous object blotted out the moonlight.

Instinctively, Collins ducked and swung his attention upward. A huge, shadowy figure filled the sky. Terror surged through him, and the urge to flee became an all encompassing necessity. He ran mindlessly, no longer worrying about the menace of the guards, hearing their screams and pounding footsteps meld with the more familiar screech of his beeper. Something heavy cut the air above his head. Without warning, a whirlwind sucked him off his feet, sending him spiraling to the ground. He struck a stone with enough force to drive the breath from his lungs, then found himself tumbling down a steep, grassy hill without the barest sense of control. The world spun past in a dizzying array of greens and browns. Something leathery slapped his ear, pounding pain through his head. Then a calm voice touched his mind.*Be still.*

Though it violated any shred of logic, Collins tried to obey. He felt something pierce the upper back of his T-shirt, scraping furrows of skin from his neck. His feet left the ground, and he dangled dangerously over rocks as the earth disappeared below him. Soldiers scattered in all directions, their ranks broken, their movements frenzied and random. Collins found himself whipping violently upward through the trees, the front of his collar chewing into his throat, choking off his screams and most of his breathing. "Help!" he rasped out.

Collins' rational mind gradually caught up to reality. A flying animal the size of a school bus has me in its claws. Only one creature fit that description. Prinivere. Collins fought a desperate battle for sane and logical understanding. We're safe. He savored that thought for less than a moment, when an abrupt turn sent him flying toward a clump of trees. The rolled cotton bit deeper into his windpipe, cutting off his oxygen supply, and branches slashed his bare arms. He seized his collar with both hands, wrenching it forward with all his strength. The fabric gave only slightly, and a trickle of air wheezed into his spasming lungs. "Help," he managed again, his hoarse, quiet voice lost in the swirl of wind raised by flapping, batlike wings. Then he remembered the dragon's nonverbal communication. You're strangling me! He tried to send the thought directly at her. I'm going to die! *Sorry,* Prinivere sent back.*Brace for a change.* Without further explanation, she wrapped a claw around Collins' right upper arm and released her grip on his shirt.

For an instant, Collins dangled sideways, Prinivere's long claws digging painfully into his flesh. He caught a woozy view of the trees far below him, and sudden terror conjured an image of him plummeting hundreds of feet to a shattered and painful death that made strangulation seem preferable. Then, another claw closed over his left arm, and the balance allowed for a lighter hold.

Thank you. Collins filled the sending with genuine gratitude. Now that falling no longer seemed likely, just being able to breathe felt like an extraordinary gift, coupled with the fading of the pain in his neck and arm. He could still feel the scratches, but the sharp constancy of a deeply entrenched claw had disappeared.

Finally in control of his no-longer reeling senses, Collins worried for his companions. Falima? Zylas? Korfius? *On my back,* Prinivere responded.*All safe.*

Collins flushed, wondering why he was the only one who had panicked, forgetting Prinivere could read the intention of thoughts as well as verbatim sendings. *You weren't alone. Zylas and Falima just have more experience with me, and I grabbed Korfius before you. I figured once he ran, I'd never catch him.*

The trees now seemed a million miles below Collins, swaying wildly. He tried to pretend he was riding on a skyway at an amusement park, but he could not trick his senses into trusting the security of wheels, wires, and pulleys. Prinivere did not follow the straight path the illusion required, and nothing secured him should her grip fail, should someone shoot her down with spears and arrows, should her aged strength simply give way. It's out of my hands. Collins screwed his eyes tightly closed. He would live or die by Prinivere's skill, and he had little choice but to trust it.

The flight spanned a heart stopping eternity, air cutting around Collins and roaring painfully through his ears, the dragon surging and gliding, wings slapping air like shaken leather blankets. At length, she spiraled downward, and Collins dared at last to open his eyes. His vision was suddenly filled with rugged mountains poking through a vast, green forest. Prinivere sent a message more concept than words, urging him to watch for limbs and other dangers. Then, they plunged into the forest. Branches tore at Collins' bare arms and tangled into his hair. Something sharp poked his jeans at the left thigh but did not penetrate the tough cotton. Prinivere made a swaying and bumpy landing onto a rocky prominence, stretched her wings, then folded them gingerly against her sides. Balanced on her hind legs, she released Collins gently to his feet.

Collins scrambled aside, worried that a weary or accidental gesture of a wing or claw might put him into harm's way. The quick movement stole the last of his already shaky equilibrium, and he crashed to the ground, rolling over stones that jabbed into his hack and sides. He came up on his knees. The outcropping overlooked forest that seemed to stretch on forever, even blanketing the lower peaks. The ledge Prinivere had chosen sheltered only a few scraggly weeds and twisted, low-slung saplings that resembled bonsai trees. The world was bathed in a flat, steely gray that usurped all color. Dull and lifeless, it reminded Collins how much, and how soon, he wanted to go home.

Falima clambered from the dragon's scaly back. Korfius bounded after her, tongue lolling and tail wagging.

Collins felt obligated to say something, but words failed him. "Wow."

"Wow, indeed." Falima approached the old dragon with obvious concern. "Are you all right?"

Prinivere's enormous, toothy mouth pulled into a grin. Once again, Collins marveled at how much the biologically impossible creature resembled a dinosaur: long-necked and long-legged, covered in greenish-black scales with plates jutting from neck, back, and tail. Scars marred a hide that seemed to glow, and the tail ended in a ragged cut. She walked on four legs, despite the fibrous wings that, though massive, should not be capable of supporting a body so huge. Black ears pricked upward, triangular like a horse's; and her eyes sparkled like emeralds recessed deeply into dark-rimmed sockets. Each forelimb ended in three toes with sharp, curved talons, while the hind legs sported four toes apiece. The short-coupled body fit well with a blocky snout that ended in arched and slitty nostrils.*I'm fine,* she sent, apparently to everyone.*Stop fretting over me.*

Collins doubted the dragon was responding solely to Falima's inquiry. He had worried only for his own life, but his companions had clearly targeted more concern toward Prinivere's welfare.

"Never, my lady." Zylas' squeaky voice came from farther along the outcropping, though Collins had not seen him dismount.

Collins rose and headed toward the rat. As fear ebbed, he grew more irritated. "You could have warned me we'd be facing spears and hitching a ride on a dragon."

"Why?" Zylas paced in a semicircle, looking up at Collins through one red eye. "Would you have come to Barakhai if I had?"

"No," Collins admitted, suspicions blossoming and anger with them. It was not the first time Zylas had tricked him to Barakhai. "Are you saying you hid-"

"He's just playing with you," Falima interrupted, giving the explanation that Zylas should have. "The soldiers surprised us, too. The king must have mobilized that force quickly. I'm guessing some spy saw us going into the ruins and decided to meet us there when we came out."

She did not have to mention that, had they taken less time convincing Collins to join them, the army could not have massed in wait.

"My lady," Zylas said, turning his attention back to the dragon. "They've seen you! You should not have risked yourself." *Nonsense! Zylas. I have as much to gain from this as anyone. Perhaps more.*

Zylas did not argue, though the frown that scored Falima's face suggested that she wanted him to. Collins considered the point. The elderly dragon was already living on borrowed time and had little personal stake in any project. On the other hand, she had little to lose either.

Prinivere lumbered around to face the group.*We also have spies. When Aisa brought me the news, I hurried there as fast as I could.* She pronounced the new name like the continent in Collins' world.

Zylas scrambled a few feet farther. "My lady, it's best to get you under cover."

Prinivere's huge head bobbed up and down wearily. She gave no thought-spoken reply, at least not one she allowed Collins to hear, but she did move along the ledge toward the rat/man. She could convey her communication to as many or as few listeners as she wished.

A moment later, Zylas disappeared into the weeds.

Collins hesitated, Falima at his side and Korfius at his heels. "Who's Aisa?"

Prinivere headed after Zylas, and Falima strode in the dragon's wake. "Another renegade. You'll meet her soon. If she fetched Prinivere, she must be here. And Ijidan, too. He takes care of this place."

Collins watched Prinivere push through an overhang of vines, which seemed to swallow her massive form. Apparently, a cave lay beyond the entwined cascade of greenery. He could not help marveling at the hiding places the renegades managed to find. The last time, they had kept him in the underground burrows of the outcast skunks, the garbage men of Barakhai. Their musk had foiled the ability of the guard hounds to track them. This cave, well-camouflaged and perched amid dangerous mountain peaks, could only be accessed by strong-winged birds and the most surefooted of mountain goats. And, of course, Prinivere.

When Collins followed his companions into the cave, he discovered an enormous, craggy room with several storage trunks, a fire pit, and a bed of straw. Prinivere, he knew, had simple tastes that defied the role-playing game image of dragons perched upon vast hordes of gold, jewels, gemstones, and magical treasures. A squirrel hunched on one of the chests, worrying a nut clutched between its forepaws. Beside it, a blue-and-gold macaw watched them, its head low and its feathers ruffled. Despite its calm demeanor, the parrot looked flamboyantly out of place, the royal cobalt feathers of its wings, tail, and back appearing dyed and the brilliant yellows of its belly just as unnatural. A patch of ivory skin surrounding the eyes and nostrils held black stripes composed of miniature feathers all leading to a wickedly curved, ebony beak.

Prinivere collapsed into the straw, clearly exhausted. Whatever magical powers the crystal Collins had stolen enhanced, it did not, apparently, increase her physical stamina. Or does it? Collins realized the ancient dragon could never have flown so far before, especially carrying several passengers on her back. She had never actually fought the king's guards. They appeared to have succumbed to the same frantic, not wholly irrational, fear that gripped Collins whenever he encountered Prinivere. But she had managed to fly him and his companions into the mountains, a feat she could not have managed the last time Collins had come to Barakhai.

Once again, the dragon responded to Collins' meandering thoughts.*I can use magic to boost my energy temporarily, but the spell runs its course.*

Collins appreciated the knowledge; though the realization that she could read his every intention made him feel creepy and a bit violated. At least, she trusts me, which suggests] really am the good person I try to be. No wonder Zylas puts such implicit faith in her judgment. Suddenly understanding Prinivere must have received that thought, too, Collins felt his checks warm. He tried to redirect his mind, which only made him more self-conscious.

Zylas clambered up the side of the trunk to the squirrel and parrot. He addressed them at a volume that did not allow Collins to overhear.

Korfius ran around the cave, snuffling at every corner.

Falima assumed the job of hostess. "Ben, this is Aisa." She gestured at the macaw, who bobbed her head. She raised her left claw, opening and closing it intermittently. "Hello, Ben," she squawked.

Collins had seen a scarlet macaw at a local fair perform the same welcoming wave. He cleared his throat, this time avoiding the natural urge to use his "baby talk" voice. Though the parrot's greeting had seemed childlike, she might have the present mentality of a bird, a grown woman, or anywhere in between. "Hello, Aisa."

Falima finished, "And this is Ijidan." She indicated the squirrel. "The caretaker of this cave."

Ijidan flicked his bushy tail and stopped eating.

Zylas scurried up Collins' pants, then his shirt, to settle on his shoulder. "Aisa has decent overlap and the rare ability to speak our human tongue in switch form."

Collins nodded. The development of overlap, he knew, had to do with the amount of time spent as an animal, some natural talent, and practice. He had no means to gauge Aisa's bird age, but he guessed she would prove to be mature when she took her woman shape. It made sense that a parrot might have a propensity for remembering things between forms, given that they seemed highly intelligent. He had watched a television special in which African grays verbally identified objects, placed shapes into their proper holes, and sorted toys by size and color.

"She's one of our few Regulars," Zylas continued, using a term Collins remembered from his last visit to Barakhai. It meant her parents were also macaws, having bred in either human or animal form. If parents who assumed different creature forms created offspring in human form, their progeny would take the animal form of the mother for the first thirteen years, then become something ostensibly random. "Both her parents were Randoms, though, lucky enough to find one another and commiserate."

Apparently, Falima overheard Zylas. "Made a lot easier by the fact that they were cousins."

That made sense to biology-trained Collins. At least some of the propensity of Randoms to assume a certain animal form seemed to have a classical multifactorial inheritance pattern, as evidenced by Zylas and his late wife, both distant descendants of Prinivere, producing a daughter who became a dragon.

Zylas continued as if Falima had not interrupted. "The big advantage being that she's not registered."

Collins' brows beetled as he considered Zylas' words. "Registered?"

"Registered," Zylas said again, as if simple repetition could work as explanation. "As a Random."

Collins still did not understand.

Falima took over. "Remember how we told you the king's men attend all coming-of-age ceremonies?"

Collins nodded, deliberately avoiding Zylas' stare. When the rat's daughter had turned thirteen, revealing her new animal form, royal soldiers had taken her and killed the mother who tried to stop them.

"And that it's because the law states that obligate carnivores must be summarily executed."

Collins could not forget. "The king said that, before the law, those carnivores murdered an average of six people before they got caught." He waited for his companions to correct him, to expose the king as an evil liar.

Falima only shrugged. "That may be true."

Zylas fidgeted on Collins' shoulder.

Collins tried to shift the focus of the discussion a bit. "Last I knew, the king had issued a ban on all Random breedings." He turned his gaze to Aisa, who remained quietly perched, listening to the conversation but adding nothing. He wondered just how much she understood. The squirrel flitted around and up the box at lightning speed, nails skittering, objects shifting and slapping back into place as he moved.

Falima confirmed, "That law just went into effect. The royals gave it enough time to assure that all the women already pregnant with Random offspring could safely and legally bear their children."

It surprised and irritated Collins that the king chose to mitigate his new law with reason and apparent kindness. Collins wanted to hate King Terrin, to see him as a consummate villain as unequivocally evil as Cinderella's stepmother or Osama bin Laden. But, in all his dealings with Barakhai's king, Collins had found the man likable and logical. He only disagreed with two of the king's decisions. The first was choosing to execute innocent children barely into their teens even before they committed any crime because of the misfortune of transforming into a meat eater. The second was the king's decree against Random unions, which seemed little more than genocide through breeding. According to Zylas and Falima, the royal family planned to do away with "undesirable" animals, such as vermin, snakes, and certain types of carnivores, all of which were already forbidden, by previous laws, from Regular breeding.

"Anyway," Zylas said, returning to the original point. "At coming-of-age, Randoms are registered in a large book. It all looks rather special and important to the child and families, but it's just an elaborate way for the royals to keep track of us."

Without warning, Ijidan made a flying leap from the box to Collins' chest. The squirrel scampered to Collins' unoccupied shoulder, then along his left arm, leaving a line of pale scratches with each skittish movement.

"What the hell?" Collins finally managed, watching the animal scamper over his clothing and flesh indiscriminately. When Ijidan held still long enough, he ran a hand along the soft, grizzled fur. "Does he have to do that?"

Aisa let out a loud squawk. "Just checking you over."

Collins jumped at the sound, heart pounding, and the sudden movement sent the squirrel scurrying over him for another pass. This time, the animal sprang back to the box when it finished.

Collins found himself missing Ialin, their previous companion, a hummingbird/man who had despised him. At least, Ialin's actions had seemed comprehensible, after a time, and his noises weren't ear shattering. "Where's Min?"

Falima's gaze followed Ijidan, and she smiled, apparently reading the barb beneath Collins' otherwise innocent question. "He's spying. Didn't think you'd care if you saw him again."

Collins made a wave of dismissal. In truth, he did not care, though he still thought the tiny man's mature quietness would trump anything Aisa or Ijidan had to offer. What am I doing? This is insane. He thought about the greeting the king's men had given them. Now they knew Collins had returned to Barakhai, and they knew about the dragon. Even with the crystal, Prinivere's magic was severely limited by her advanced age. The shabby band of renegades had lost their one other advantage: surprise. The king, on the other hand, still had money, power, an army of trained and armed guards, and Carrie Quinton.

Collins pictured the woman, a genetics postgraduate who had originally come from his own world and now served as an adviser to King Terrin. Once, Collins had slept with her, and he found himself easily picturing the smooth curves, her cascade of naturally golden hair, her long legs and large firm breasts. She had the face of a model. Had, he reminded himself, wincing. When he had stolen the crystal she wore as a necklace, inadvertently cutting her neck with it, she had turned on him. To escape the swords of the guards, he had thrust a torch into her face. His last glimpse of her was with her hair aflame, her screams echoing through the stairwell.

Collins shook off the memory. He had also burned the king's brother, and he knew he would die, and die horribly, if the royals caught him. This isn't a game; home or in Barakhai, dead is forever. We escaped once by the grace of a dragon. Next time, it may not go so well. He glanced at Prinivere, who lay still with her head on her forelegs, eyes closed. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her, but Collins had to test Zylas' promise. "I want to go home. Now."

Falima looked stricken. Zylas said nothing, but he rubbed his thin, pink ears with a paw. Prinivere opened one enormous, green eye and rolled her attention to Zylas, still perched on Collins' shoulder.

Driven by his need to know exactly where he stood, Collins demanded, "I want to go home right now."

"Please… " Falima started, stayed by a tired wave of the dragon's claw. *Come,* Prinivere sent to Collins.*I will send you back.*

Certain his companions would use the dragon's fatigue as an excuse to delay his return, Collins stammered out, "Y-you will?"

The dragon's expression did not waver, but she did open her other eye.*Of course, I will. I would not ignore Zylas' promises. Such a thing would dishonor us both.*

Collins glided toward the dragon, shaking. Though he knew she was old, feeble, and had no intention of harming him, he still suffered from a deep instinctive fear.

Prinivere continued as he approached,*Last time, we brought you here under false pretenses and kept you with trickery. If you choose to help us this time, it must be of your own free will, because of the goodness in your own heart.*

Collins cringed. Her final pronouncement, though delivered without emotion, cut deeply. He liked his Barakhain friends, agreed with their mission, and wanted them to accomplish their worthy goal. He also knew that they needed him in order to succeed. Sighing, he lowered his head. They're risking their lives for their own futures and those of their children. What do I have to gain from this? It was a bitterly selfish question. If I could save the lives of thousands of children in my own world by sacrificing myself, I would do it. Why are the children of Barakhai worth less? Though he saw the flaw in his own question, Collins still paused. Because it's not a sure thing. I could die, and the Barakhains could still keep their curse, their king, and all that goes with them.

Suddenly remembering that Prinivere received all of his thoughts, Collins looked at her fiercely. She lay in place, expression impassive, eyes nonjudgmental. It was a quandary he had to face alone, but he wished someone would say something to sway him either way.

Finally, Prinivere did.* Wouldn't you like to stay until Korfius changes? So you can talk to him, I mean?*

It was as good an excuse as any to put off a difficult decision. Collins glanced around for his dog, finding him lying on the floor near the mouth of the cave chewing on a dangling vine. "Good idea," he said. Thinking back, he knew that Zylas became a man at noon, Korfius a boy two hours later, then Prinivere became a woman about an hour after that. When he had set his watch by Zylas' switch time, Korfius changed at 2:00 P.M. and Prinivere at 3:00 P.M. Because they were Regulars, Korfius and Prinivere spent less time in human form than the others, who split their time exactly half and half.

"In the meantime," Falima suggested carefully, rolling her gaze from Prinivere to Zylas to Collins as if waiting for one of them to silence her again, "maybe we could explain why we brought you. Then you can make an informed decision."

That sounded like a good idea to Collins. He nodded. "All right." He crossed the cave to sit on one of the chests not already occupied by a parrot or squirrel. "Go."

Zylas jumped from Collins' shoulder to the wood, displaying none of Ijidan's grace. "The lady-" he gave a nod toward the dragon to acknowledge her "-warned us that she would probably not prove strong enough to work the crystal to its full potential." *Remember, it took two healthy young males to place the curse.*

Collins remembered. The half-dragon twins of an ancient princess, embittered by their lot, had cursed all but select members of the royal family to spend part of their lives in animal form. Or, in the case of the dragons, in human form. In revenge, the dragons had slain the boys, only to find themselves hunted to extinction. Only Prinivere remained, still bearing the scars of wounds the hunters had believed mortal and the missing tail that had won them their bounty. *The crystal is powerful, but my magic and vigor have dwindled too far. Zylas tells me there are two other dragons. Young ones.* Prinivere's sending contained a desperate hopefulness directed at Collins. He had told Zylas about the dragons, having learned of their existence from Carrie Quinton. One was surely Zylas' daughter. The other was a Random claimed by the king, as was his right, for execution as a dangerous carnivore. Apparently, it was male, as Quinton had talked excitedly of breeding them.

Collins shrugged. "I didn't see them with my own eyes, but I believe the person who told me about them."

"Carriequinton," Zylas supplied,

Falima shifted restlessly from foot to foot, then dug at the cave floor with a heel. At length, she looked up and, noticing all eyes upon her, added, "She doesn't care much for you, Ben."

Collins pursed his lips. "Not surprising." He dodged Falima's gaze, hoping she did not know he had slept with Quinton. At the time, it had seemed natural, given how much they had in common and how he planned to get them both permanently back to their world having lived an intense experience that no one seemed likely to believe. "How badly did I hurt her?"

"Her face," Zylas squeaked, hiding his whiskery nose behind a paw. "Let's just say she's not beautiful any more."

Falima added, "It's a woman thing, but I think you hurt her heart, too. And not just from the pain of losing her looks. She seems to think you… betrayed her."

Collins sucked his lips all the way into his mouth. Quinton had grown up in a series of foster homes, bitter about her drug-addicted mother, which seemed to have warped her sense of emotional attachment. After just their one time in bed, she had imagined an entire life for them together. "She really hates me."

No one denied or confirmed the words, the ultimate affirmation.

Aisa squawked, and Collins jumped, wondering if he could ever get used to her doing that. Not that I need to, but the others do.

Zylas seized on the interruption. "In any case, we've searched the whole world for those dragons, without success. There seems to be only one place left to look." He lifted his head to Collins, who figured it out with ease.

"The royal quarters." It made sense that, if they needed Collins again, it would be to enter the areas of the kingdom warded against switchers.

"Right," Aisa corroborated in her parrot voice, apparently following at least part of the conversation.

Collins doubted the king would keep dragons in his bedchambers. "Maybe there aren't any dragons. Maybe Carrie gave me wrong information."

Falima perched delicately on the opposite edge of the chest. "No. There are dragons. We started searching as soon as you told us about them and, early on, found some dragon signs deep in the castle dungeons."

"We?" Collins pressed.

"Spies," Zylas detailed. "Including myself. I definitely smelled my daughter's scent, though none of us ever saw her. The king must have moved them soon after our raid, and no one managed to follow their trail, now long cold. It's almost as if-she disappeared." Mist covered his beady eyes, and Collins read pain there. Zylas would not beg or deceive this time. He clearly had taken Collins' anger to heart and trusted Collins' previous claim that, if he had only known the facts, he still would have helped and would have proved better at it.

Such consideration seemed worth rewarding. It pleased Collins that someone had listened so intently to his words and followed them to the letter. Zylas is a real friend. He wondered if he had ever truly known another. The rat/man clearly had practice at treating others well, never leading from the rear but placing himself in the same, or worse, danger as his followers. "So," Collins said, "all I have to do is look through the royal bedchambers again."

Apparently missing the sarcasm, Falima said brightly, "That's it."

And Zylas continued in the same upbeat vein. "If you find them, we'll figure out a way to rescue them when you get hack."

"Oh," Collins said, glancing between his companions to see if they completely missed the obvious or were just better than he was at nonchalantly stating the impossible. "So I don't actually have to retrieve these dragons. Just look for them."

Falima's smile seemed genuine, filled with joy at having Collins seriously consider the mission so soon after demanding to leave. "Right."

"In the king's warded bedchamber."

"Right."

Collins blinked. "Okay. That all seems simple enough." He hardened his tone to make it clear he believed they'd all gone mad. "So long as you ignore the fact that I have to sneak onto the castle grounds, into the castle itself, and to the king's own bedchamber past a zillion guards and other royal employees all of whom… want to personally inflict on me the death of a thousand tortures. Or something worse." He threw up his hands in disgust. "Are you crazy?"

Zylas' head swung toward Prinivere, who had obviously communicated with him alone. Then he addressed Collins. "Did I forget to mention you'd be disguised?"

Collins continued to stare in disbelief. "That was implied, but I don't think a little grease paint and a haircut are going to fool anyone this time."

Prinivere finally gave a sending to Collins.*He means disguised by magic.*

At last, Collins began to understand. "By magic?" It had nearly killed Prinivere to cast the spell that allowed Collins to understand their language, and Zylas had sworn not to let her risk herself like that again. "The crystal?" he wondered aloud. *The crystal* Prinivere confirmed.*I can make you look like one of the guards without harming myself. And another will go as your partner.*

The nonverbal sending allowed Collins to understand that, by "your partner," she meant that whoever went with him would go in the guise of the guard's partner as well. He wondered what other spells Prinivere could now do that she could not previously manage hut decided not to ask. It might violate some ethical protocol, which would greatly upset Zylas, who always insisted on proper etiquette and respect for the Lady. An instant later, he remembered that Prinivere could read his thoughts. She could choose to list her new abilities or to let him know if she would tolerate a direct questioning. "Who would this partner actually be?"

Zylas piped in at once. "Me."

"You?" Collins' brows shot up. "But you can't get into the royals' chambers."

"Nor can anyone else. That's why we brought you." The rat tilted his head into a pose probably supposed to appear brave, though it merely made him look quizzical. "I can get you there and back safely."

Falima wrung her hands. Clearly, she wanted to intervene, to keep Zylas out of harm's way. However, to do so would mean putting a lesser value on Collins' life.

"Can you guarantee that?" Although he knew better, Collins dared to hope.

Zylas' head glided back to its usual position. "Well, no, but… no one can ever…"

Collins forced a grin. "I was kidding."

"Oh. Well, then." Zylas' checks pulled across his muzzle into a ratty grin. It was a strange image, like a computer-animated commercial. "I'll do my best. I'm not going to run out on you."

Collins wondered if Zylas had actually used slang or if the spell simply translated it that way. Spell or stone or both, he reminded himself, only then recalling that he still had not pressed Zylas on the details of a question that had occurred to him way back in his own world. "So what happened to your translation stone?"

"I don't need it anymore." Zylas raised his head proudly.

Collins doubted the rat/man had suddenly learned all the languages of both worlds, along with every animal tongue. The spell Prinivere had cast on Collins interpreted only human languages, and they had told him the crystal Zylas always carried was unique. Collins jerked his gaze past the crates to where Prinivere once again rested with her eyes closed.

Zylas anticipated the question. "No, she can't cast a spell that works like my stone did. But she was able to remove the magic from its container and place it directly into me."

Collins saw the pros and cons of such a maneuver. It meant Zylas could never lose his precious artifact; but he also could not lend it out as he once had to Falima and Collins. And the magic died with him, an event that seemed inevitable given the power and reach of those who hunted him. Now in his forties, Zylas had given the royalty problems since his youth. On the other hand, the stone could no longer be taken from Zylas or lost by him, and not having to carry it left his hands and mouth free. Zylas' value to the cause became wholly clear to Collins for the first time: a wise, bold, honest, and determined man with near-perfect overlap and a means to communicate with anyone in any form. Falima's instincts were right. The renegades could not afford to lose Zylas. "I'll do it," he said, the words out of his mouth before he could consider them. "But I can't take you as my partner."

Zylas' mouth dropped open, revealing his little pink tongue, and his crimson eyes bulged with distress and affront. "Why not?"

"Because they need you." Collins made a gesture that encompassed the entire cave. From the corner of his vision, he thought he saw the sleeping dragon smile.

Zylas dismissed the argument. "We need you, too. And you don't have any stake in this. I'm best-suited for the job, and I go."

Collins could not argue. He and Zylas did work well together, though he had to correct one thing. "Oh, I do have a stake in this. I, too, have loved ones suffering by the curse and the king's decree."

Zylas' determined look went instantly blank. "You do?"

Even before he had broken up with a girlfriend with whom he had little in common, Collins had had few close friends. Aside from Korfius, his life had only grown more empty. "You, you dim-witted quadruped. I mean you." He turned his gaze to Falima. "And others, here, too."

This time an unmistakable smile stretched the old dragon's face.