The next time Benton Collins awakened, he heard low voices. He sat up, the blanket tumbling to his ankles. Zylas leaned across the table, talking softly to Vernon. They made an odd pair, one slight and white as cream, the other powerfully muscled and dark as untouched coffee. Though taught to revile eavesdropping, he strained to overhear. His companions had left him out of conversations about his own welfare so many times that he somehow felt owed the knowledge.
Korfius floundered from beneath the blanket that now covered his head. He flopped to the floor, the cloth fumbling after him in an awkward twist.
The men at the table looked toward them. Zylas said something louder, accompanied by a friendly wave.
Only then, Collins realized his moments of straining could have gained him nothing. Without touching the stone, he could not understand a word of the Barakhain they exchanged. He thrust his hand into the pocket that held the rose quartz, withdrawing it. "You're back," he finally said.
"I am," Zylas admitted. His gaze wandered to the translation stone, and his grin widened. "Thanks for taking such good care of my rock."
Collins returned the grin. "It was nothing," he said honestly. "I really appreciate your leaving it. I couldn't have done anything without it."
Zylas nodded. Collins certainly did not have to explain the merits of the magic to its longtime owner.
"So," Collins pressed for the important news immediately. "Is there another portal?"
Zylas glanced at Vernon, who shrugged, then gave his head a slight shake. The rat/man's attention returned to Collins. "Not… yet. But…"
Collins waited for his companion to continue. When he did not, Collins made an impatient gesture. "But…?"
Zylas pursed his lips, then spoke quickly, as if he had to force the words out before he changed his mind. "The elder wishes to meet with you."
Uncertain how to react, Collins asked cautiously, "He does? Why?"
Zylas opened his mouth, then closed it without speaking. He gave Vernon another meaningful look, but the black man turned away, arms folded across his chest. Clearly on his own now, Zylas said lamely, "It's not a simple matter. The elder… can explain it better."
"All… right." Collins looked from companion to companion, but neither returned his stare. "What do I need to know before I agree to this?" Silence.
Irritated with his companions' behavior, Collins demanded, "You said my going would be dangerous to the elder and to myself. Don't I have a right to know why before I'm smack dab in the middle of that danger?"
Vernon said gruffly, "It's not you we're worried about." Zylas placed a hand on Vernon's shoulder, an obvious plea to let him handle it. "It'll become clear, but Vernon's right. So long as you don't do anything foolish or mean…" Like eat some innocent woman? Collins thought bitterly. "… you're perfectly safe. The elder…" Zylas flicked strands of dirty white-blond hair from his eyes. "… has more at stake. We just want to protect-"
Vernon jumped in again. "-the elder." "Right," Zylas confirmed.
Korfius thrust his nose into Collins' hand. He patted the dog absently, still focused on his oddly behaving friends. "I'm not going to hurt anyone, if that's what you're jazzed up about."
Collins wondered how that translated, but Zylas and Vernon showed no sign of confusion. "I didn't mean to kill Joetha," he said for what seemed like the thousandth time. "It was an awful thing for which I'll feel eternally guilty, but can't we ever-"
Zylas and Vernon made broad motions to silence Collins. "We know that," the albino assured. "We don't have to talk about that anymore."
Vernon stood, nostrils flaring in clear distress. "It's just that you come with… certain dangers."
Understanding dawned, dispelling the irritation. "You mean the guards chasing me."
Zylas vigorously nodded confirmation, but Vernon did not let the matter drop. "We don't know you well enough to be sure-"
"Vernon," Zylas warned, but it did not stop his friend.
"-you can keep your mouth shut."
Collins felt the prickle of returning irritation but forced it away. Vernon had a reasonable point. "I owe you all my life at least two times over. I'm not going to give away any secret."
Zylas rolled his gaze to Vernon, who did not seem satisfied. "Can you bind that as a vow?"
Collins blinked, tightening his grip on the translation stone, which didn't seem to be fully functioning. "What?"
Vernon rephrased his question. "Do you have some sanctified words, some gesture, that binds important promises beyond breaking?"
Now Collins understood. Nothing in my world is so sacred someone can't and won't abandon it. That answer, he knew, would not satisfy Vernon. He would not break his word because he considered himself an honorable and moral person. Nevertheless, a white lie seemed worth it to appease Vernon. "We have both." He cleared his throat, assuming the most serious expression he could. "I swear to God…"It did not sound like enough, so he added, "with sugar on top, that I will…" He looked at Vernon questioningly.
Catching the intention of the pause, Vernon supplied the next words, "… not divulge the name, location, or even the existence of the elder to anyone ever, no matter what good reason I think I may have for doing so."
"Uh." Collins had no trouble agreeing to the terms, but he could not recall all the words Vernon had used. "I will not… uh… divulge… uh… the elder forever no matter what." Mouthful of mostly long words to express the obvious. He'd have made a good lawyer. Collins spit on his right hand. "Now we shake on it."
"Shake on… it?" Vernon studied Collins' fingers dubiously.
Collins took Vernon's enormous paw of a hand into his own, flicked it vigorously, then released it. He wiped his palm on his britches, and Vernon did the same.
"Done?" the larger man asked.
"Done," Collins agreed.
Vernon muttered something of which the stone translated only, "Weird."
Unable to miss the irony, Collins hid a smile.
Chapter 10
ZYLAS and Collins set off immediately, with the sun still high in the sky. They rode Falima, and Collins caught occasional glimpses of Ialin zipping to Zylas and hovering near his ear. The hummingbird always gave Collins a wide berth, which pleased him as well. The wind carried streamers of Zylas' unnaturally white hair into Collins' face at intervals so irregular he forgot to protect against it. Accustomed to wearing glasses, he rarely reacted in time to rescue his eyes, and the strands whipped across them, stinging, until he wondered if he had permanent red lines across the whites. Adding a buzzing, insect-like bird to the aggravation might have driven him over the edge, from sullen irritation to rage.
Zylas carried the translation stone again, which seemed to make no difference as his other two companions would remain in their animal forms for about five more hours and the rat/ man had settled into a nearly unbreakable silence. He led them on a circuitous route that confused Collins utterly. At times, he thought he recognized landmarks they had passed a half hour earlier. They might be traveling in an endless loop for all he knew, and he could not help recalling the Winnie-the-Pooh tale in which the silly old bear and his friend, Piglet, track themselves in a circle, worried that, at each pass, another two creatures have joined the ones they were following. Despite the warmth and humor of this childhood remembrance, Collins found his discomfort growing.
The weather seemed hell-bent on displaying all the happy grandeur Collins' mood lacked. The sun beamed through the trees in golden bands. A breeze danced around the trunks, keeping the temperature hovering at what felt like a comfortable seventy degrees. Crystal-blue sky stretched from horizon to horizon, dotted with a few fluffy clouds that gleamed whitely in the broad expanse of azure.