Mickey Reichert: The lost Dragons of Barakhai

Collins did not fully understand, but his companions bobbed their heads. "Are you saying you and the younglings could help Falima spend more time in human form? That you could give her enough overlap to understand me well even when she's a horse?"

"That's exactly what she's saying." Falima faced Collins and took his other hand. "And someone like Zylas, who has near-perfect overlap, could switch between rat form and human form at his own whim."

Collins looked at Zylas to determine how close Falima had come to the truth, only to find the albino standing utterly still, eyes wide, clearly considering the implications of her words.

Collins also found himself thinking about the possibilities. Controlled shapeshifting seemed more of a gift than a liability, even better than the royals' full-time humanity. Cool! He found himself wishing he had a switch-form. Collins considered another important detail, concerned for Korfius. "What happens to life span? To intelligence and memory?" *I'm not sure.* Prinivere scratched behind one eye with a claw.*I can't remember if human and animal life spans differed much before the Curse. They both seemed pitifully short compared with mine.* She replaced her claw and fixed a craggy eye on Collins.*The intertwining of humans and animals has gone on so long in Barakhai, I don't think we can ever wholly separate what gets passed to future generations. And that's not a bad thing.*

Collins had to agree. Mongrel dogs tended to live longer than the inbred species and to demonstrate higher intelligence. Carrie Quinton would have understood the details better than he could, but he suspected the genes of humans and animals in Barakhai probably had become inseparable.

Prinivere finished her point,*Lifting the Curse can't change history or "blood." I believe the natural life spans of all creatures of Barakhai will remain reasonably equal, in the realm of a hundred years, at least for the next several centuries. Longer for those with dragon blood.* She glanced at Zylas.*As to intelligence…* She flicked a claw.*I think the same applies. It varies widely enough already.*

Collins had to agree.

Prinivere grinned and sent him a happy image of powder-blue sky speckled with clouds, filled with swooping dragon shadows.

Collins smiled at the joy the rescue he had assisted in brought to the old dragon as well as to the regular citizenry of Barakhai. Through Trinya and Artoth, a new generation of dragons might return to Barakhai as well. *And, if I might venture one more opinion, you should accept that proposal.*

It took Collins inordinately long to figure out what Prinivere meant.

"Yes," Falima said, the word coming out of nowhere.

Collins blinked. "What?"

"Yes," Falima said. "I'll marry you."

Thank you, Collins thought in Prinivere's direction. Not long ago, he had believed himself too young for marriage, but now the idea filled him with an excitement that seemed eternal. He caught Falima into a gleeful embrace, and Korfius shoved in to shower the announcement with happy dog kisses.

IN Vernon's cottage in the middle of the Barakhai woodlands, Benton Collins slouched in a hard log chair watching Korfius wrestle with the puppy he now knew as Farrihn. The two rolled and yipped across the floor under the watchful eye of the puppy's father, Ralthoroh, now in a human form that little resembled the huge, pointy-eared furball Collins had encountered in the carnivore caverns. Falima explained the intricacies of furniture to the too-skinny girl while Mataia, the tortoise, cruised around the confines, exploring every object. Vernon ran a hand through his tight black curls, studying a Wendy's fried potato pinched between his fingers. "What do you call these things again?"

"French fries." Though Collins addressed Vernon, he kept his gaze on Falima, thrilled by every confident movement, every casual toss of her ebony hair. "Though I'm not sure why. They aren't any more French than Canadian bacon is Canadian." He added with sudden realization, "Or even bacon."

Vernon's long silence finally drew Collins' attention. He turned to find the enormous black man staring at him, thick brows arched. "You do know you're speaking gibberish, don't you?"

Collins could understand why none of his tangential jabbering would translate. "Yeah, I know. I've got to do something every once in a while to remind you I'm a foreigner."

"You mean in case your weird clothes and your weird food and the weird little devices you bring back with you aren't enough?"

"Exactly."

Vernon popped the fry into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. Having exhausted his conversation with Collins for the moment, he addressed Falima. "I heard you got offered a guard position at the castle."

Falima raised her head, hands on the rope pulls of Vernon's dresser. Crouched beside her, Skinny Girl continued to examine the cupboard. "I'm not taking it."

The last Collins knew, his fiancee was still considering the offer. "Why not?"

Falima ruffled the other woman's tawny hair. "The cavern people need someone to help them adjust to civilization. I'd rather do that, at least for now." She turned back to the dresser. "Besides, if I'm going to preach that people no longer have to pursue careers prearranged by their animal form, I should set an example."

Though it bothered Collins that Falima had not consulted him before making her final decision, he found some solace in the realization that she had helped him make an equally difficult choice. "If we're not living on the castle grounds, I guess I can't take that job as adviser to the king." He shrugged. "The thought of following in Carrie Quinton's footsteps creeped me out anyway."

Falima rose and approached Collins, Skinny Girl following her every movement with worried eyes. "Sweetie, I can do my work anywhere. Just because I'm not a guard doesn't mean we can't live in Opernes Castle." She put her hands on the back of his chair and kissed the top of his head. "You don't have to walk the same path as Carriequinton just because you hold the same title."

Vernon added his piece, "Barakhai could really use someone like you to help keep the king on the moral path." He winked at Falima. "Besides, you could socialize with the new captain of security. I hear he's well qualified for the job, despite being… vermin." Vermin? No way. Not-

Falima gasped, completing his thought aloud. "Zylas? Zylas is King Terrin's new captain of security?"

"Can you think of anyone better suited to fill the post?" Collins doubted the king of Barakhai could find anyone as capable as the man who had dedicated his life to bringing together the most diverse people in the world, to gaining, winning, and keeping their loyalty and respect. That Zylas could speak every language, including those of animals, and mutated into a rat at will, would only sweeten the deal. Collins believed Terrin wise enough to understand the enormous asset he had obtained and that he could count on the rebels to support him so long as he followed the advice of his new captain. A monarchy kept strong by alliances instead of magical physical advantage. "Better suited than Zylas?" He shook his head with such vigor, it tousled his hair into knots. "Not on any world."