Mickey Reichert: The lost Dragons of Barakhai

Benton Collins awakened in a sudden rush of amazing clarity. His headache had disappeared, and the many injuries that had plagued him for the last hours he could remember seemed to have disappeared. He kept his eyes tightly closed, afraid that he would find himself back in Algary Hospital. He dreaded the barrage of questions that would certainly follow, the lies he would have to concoct to keep himself out of some mental institution, the even stranger looks the professors and other students would inflict upon him. Oh. That Ben Collins.

Gentle hands caressed his body, soothing the skin where they touched. He focused on this comfort, enjoying it as long as he dared, dodging the grilling that revealing his awakening might invoke. *You're up.* The voice penetrated Collins' thoughts with a light sweetness that made it seem to float into his mind, bypassing his cars. Then, suddenly, he realized that was exactly what it had done. He was still in Barakhai.

Collins opened his eyes to another cave. Three massive dragon heads hovered over him, breath warm and sugary, their allspice dragon scent perfuming the air, their claws skipping lightly over his wounds. Zylas lay beside him, also prone, naked, and still in man form. Dirt peppered his snowy skin, and his pale blue eyes pecked out from fallen strands of white-blond hair. Prinivere instructed the younger two dragons in a wild barrage of mental communication that made little sense to Collins. The mirror portal stood against the wall at the farthest edge of Collins' vision.

Collins glanced at his watch, only to find spidery lines through the glass and a nonfunctioning display. Korfius trotted in frantic circles around them as a dog, which made it either before 3 P.M. or after 8 P.M.

Collins locked gazes with Zylas. "I see you got the portal."

"I suppose that's stealing," Zylas admitted, a red flush suffusing his cheeks. "But the king would only have destroyed it once he discovered-"

Collins cut off the explanation with a wave. "No justification necessary. I was just impressed that something so fragile made it here intact. I couldn't keep my eyes open long enough to bring us safely here, let alone an enormous, breakable knickknack."

Zylas tipped his head in a gesture that passed for a shrug. "You were hurt worse. And you're not a soldier." He grinned. "You got us through the worst of it. That roar of yours was inspired. How did you know she'd copy you?"

"Never met a toddler who didn't like to imitate loud noises." Collins smiled, hoping the dragons read his thoughts of appreciation through the confusion of their own conversation. He knew the others would already have thanked them, but he would do so personally when time allowed it. "Where's… " he started, preparing to ask about Falima. Then, not wanting to put one name above the others, he said instead, "the others?"

Zylas answered. "Ialin and Aisa are scouting, checking how our escape affected the castle. Apparently, King Terrin knew nothing about Carriequinton's sojourns in the caverns, nor that the dragons were still alive. Vernon's at home, where he's needed. Falima… " He swiveled his head. "Well, ask her yourself."

At that moment, Falima stepped into view. She wore a simple, plain dress that left him to imagine the exquisite curves that lay beneath it. Her sapphire eyes were swollen with tears and worry, her black hair wind-whipped to a snarl. She was the most beautiful woman in the world, and Collins found himself breathless.

Falima raised her brows. "You've got that hungry look again. And, this time, I'm not even naked."

Collins searched for his tongue, but it betrayed him, blurting out words he had not intended to say, "I love you, Falima."

She came toward him with natural grace. Her high cheekbones, golden skin, and spare lips became the very definition of perfection. She crouched to meet his gaze. "You said that already. Or did staring over the brink of death make you forget I love you, too?"

Now Collins wished he had saved the sentiment. There seemed no way to explain how his devotion had escalated to a heart-pounding fever complete with fireworks and the farthest reaches of heaven. "I've never loved anyone more."

Zylas cleared his throat, as if to remind the pair that they shared the room with others. "I'm devastated, Ben. I thought I was your one and only."

Collins barely heard him. "I want to be with you forever. Falima, I want you to marry me."

Falima slid between the two men and ruffled Collins' blood-matted hair. "Sweetie, there's still so much we don't know." She looked at the dragons hopefully. When she got no reply from Prinivere, she continued, "Can they lift the Curse? If they do, what becomes of us switchers?" She sighed heavily. "What if I'm a horse forever?"

Collins could not believe God would do that to him. He had finally found a woman he loved without conditions and a world that saw him as competent and capable, a place where he dared to become a hero, despite the risks. "Then I'll marry a horse. And love you just the same."

"You're an idiot," she said.

Collins agreed. "But at least I'd be your idiot."

Beyond Falima, Zylas rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

Prinivere finally joined the conversation.*Currently, the younglings don't switch forms. They'll stay dragons until their maturity level catches up with their human forms.*

Zylas sat up. "How long will that take?"

Prinivere fell into silence for several moments, calculating.*I would guess about… three or four hundred.*

"Days?" Zylas supplied. "Weeks?" * Years.*

"Wow." Zylas gave the exact same reply Collins would have. The albino would never see his daughter in her human form again, would never know how much she resembled himself or his beloved late wife. Still, he smiled, content. She had returned to him from the dead, and she remembered him. *Would you like to know my opinion?*

Though Collins did not know which subject Prinivere meant to share her opinion on, he wanted to hear what she had to say on anything.

Falima nodded, and Zylas said, "Absolutely, my lady." *We don't yet have the ability to lift the Curse. The younglings need more experience, more maturity.*

"How long?" Zylas spoke the words for all of them. *A century, at least. Longer if I'm not still here to help.*

To Collins' surprise, no one objected to Prinivere's suggestion that she might not live long enough to assist in the project. The silence seemed awkward. It reminded him of how, at the end of every Christmas celebration, Great-Aunt Gertrude would say, "See you next year, God willing." They would always protest the possibility that she might not survive another year, even as her seventies became her eighties and old age finally claimed her. To say nothing felt like tacit condemnation, like giving death permission to remove her from the family.

Falima dropped her head.

Collins took her hand. "That doesn't change the way I feel about you. We'll deal with it."

"I can't go to your world."

"No," Collins confirmed.

"Do you love me enough to stay in mine?" Finally Falima raised her head to him, and Collins made certain to look right into her eyes.

"I do," he said without hesitation, without a trace of doubt. "But it's not really the life sentence you think it is. With Prinivere's help, I could go back occasionally, explain things to my parents, let them know I'm safe and happy." He smiled, squeezing her hand. "Bring back a Twinkie now and then."

Prinivere waited for them to finish before continuing.*There are modifications we can make now, until we can fully lift the Curse. We can create smaller magics that help switchers learn to control what they have: to increase the time spent in their preferred forms, to increase overlap, to allow those with strong overlap to control the switch itself so they can take whichever form they wish whenever they desire it.*