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 she 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.
Falima grazed outside throughout the lesson. At nine, Ialin returned to bird form, and Collins heaved a grateful sigh. Anticipating three hours of blessed relief and silence, he drew the travel pack to him in search of breakfast. Crouched in front of one of the chests, he placed each item on its lid: first a hunk of brown bread, the jar of nut paste, and a wrinkled applelike fruit. He rummaged for a stick to spread the paste, wishing he had his multitool. It had served him well in many unexpected situations, from using the pliers to straighten a damaged cage clasp to cutting open the otherwise impenetrable plastic packaging that entombed so many small electronics.
Collins discarded the thought of using his companions' utility knives on food. No telling what's on those blades. Instead, he went to the cave mouth to find a suitable stick.
At Collins' sudden appearance, Falima raised her head and nickered. Remembering an earlier conversation, he strode over and scratched her between the ears. She closed her eyes and lowered her head, half-chewed stems jutting from her mouth. The sun beamed down from a cloudless sky, igniting red highlights in her tangled black forelock. Collins finger-combed it back in place with one hand, while the other continued to scratch.
Collins' stomach rumbled, and he abandoned his ministrations with a final pat. "Pretty girl," he cooed, feeling like an idiot and wondering how much of the encounter Falima would remember in human form. Locating a thick twig near his feet, he picked it up and returned to the cave.
Prinivere lumbered outside. Collins froze, fear twitching through him despite his knowledge and his efforts to keep the emotion at bay. He stepped aside, shoving his shaking hands into his pockets to hide them. The stick jabbed his thigh through the fabric, and he loosed a grunt of pain. *I'm going to find food,* Prinivere announced, though whether at him or everyone, Collins could not tell.*Be back by the time Zylas changes.*
Collins nodded his reply, though the dragon had already swept past him. He had no idea what something so large might eat in the vegetable family to sustain herself. Though some of the largest dinosaurs had been herbivores, the paleontologists surmised that they had had to eat constantly to keep themselves alive. So far, he had not seen the dragon consume anything.
Carrying his spreading stick, Collins returned to his food, only to find Zylas nibbling at the bread. He stopped short. "You know, in my world, finding a rat eating your food might just be the grossest thing imaginable."
"Great," Zylas squeaked, his paw on the translation stone and his mouth leaking crumbs. "More for me."
"Ah," Collins reached for the nut paste. "But I'm a biology student. I could eat a block of Swiss in a pathology laboratory over the smell of formaldehyde while mice used the holes for a maze." The medical student from whom he had stolen the quote had added a nearby dissected cadaver and that, if hungry enough, he would devour the animals with the cheese. Under the circumstances, Collins felt it best to leave those parts out.
Despite his bold words, Collins got himself a fresh piece of bread on which to spread the paste. He doubted Zylas could carry any of the rat-borne illnesses of his world without infecting himself in human form, but he saw no need to take chances. "So what, exactly, does a dragon eat?"
Zylas finished a mouthful of bread. "A whole lot."
"No doubt." Collins dipped the stick into the jar and slapped a glob onto his bread. "A whole lot of what?"
"People," Zylas said without hesitation.
Collins jerked his attention to the rat, hand still on the bread. "What?"
"I'm kidding," Zylas said. "Of course, she eats the same things everyone else eats. Plants, fish, bugs."
"Oh." Collins swallowed hard. "That's not funny."
"Sorry."
"In fact, it was downright insensitive."
"I'm sorry," Zylas repeated. "I have near perfect overlap. Apparently, my rat sense of humor isn't as careful as my man sense of humor."
The guilt of his crime revived, Collins discovered a lump in his throat that made eating a chore. He pulled a bladder from the pack and sucked a mouthful of a sweet-and-sour fruit juice that contained a hint of alcohol. Expecting water, he nearly choked on the contents. "What the hell is this?"
Zylas jumped from the chest to Collins' lap, then skittered up his arm. He stuck his entire, furry head through the opening, then retreated with golden droplets clinging to his whiskers. He returned to his place, and the translating stone, before speaking. "It's a mix, one of Vernon's special recipes. Don't you like it?"
Collins had not given a thought to his opinion of the unexpected taste. Now, he considered, savoring the aftertaste on his tongue. If he had to guess the ingredients, he would have said grape juice, apple juice, some lemon, a dash of something exotic, like guava or mango, and a touch of dry wine. "Actually, I do. I just wasn't expecting it." He turned his thoughts back to Prinivere. "She'd have to eat an ocean of fish, I'd guess."
Zylas bobbed his head, splashing the golden droplets. "She usually does most of her eating in her human form, but I'd guess she had to 'refuel' from the spell."
Refuel. Collins liked the translation, though it could not have been the actual word Zylas had used. His respect for magic grew tenfold in an instant.
"Are you ready to learn the interior of the keep?"
Collins groaned. "Can't we wait till you're… human?" He had looked forward to three hours of eating and quiet or, at most, gentle conversation with Zylas alone.