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 gleaned 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
A SHAKE 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.