Mickey Reichert - The beasts of Barakhai

"The best," Falima agreed. "Most of the ingredients are quite common, but you have to get the vilegro seed at the right time.

When you can even find it. It is valuable, too, so we can sell what we do not eat. A worthy find, Ialin had. That is the advantage of a small flying switch-form with a good sense for finding sweet things."

Falima's description sparked an idea. "Perhaps," Collins started thoughtfully. "Perhaps Ialin could distract the guards, fly around their…"

Before Collins could stop her, Falima translated. Ialin's reply was accompanied by a spark of anger.

Falima laughed. "Ialin suggests we distract you instead so the guards can catch you easier."

Collins brows rose, and the look he gave Falima was similar to Ialin's own.

All mirth disappeared. "He was only kidding," she said defensively. She and Ialin feigned sudden, inordinate interest in their gahiri.

Collins reached for his own half-eaten breakfast, only to find a large white rat devouring it. Startled, he skittered backward, then realized who had stolen his food. "Zylas!"

Falima laughed again, and even Ialin could not suppress a snicker. Zylas turned Collins as innocent a look as a rat could muster, then returned to eating.

Falima made three more gahiri, handing one to each of her human companions and eating the third. Abandoning his booty, Zylas crawled up Falima's arm to her shoulder, placed both paws on her ear, and squeaked emphatically.

Falima listened for a long time, nodding occasionally with her mouth full of food. She replied in their regular language, stuffed the rest of the gahiri into her mouth, then rose. Placing her hand inside her bodice, she plucked a cherry-sized piece of rose quartz from between her breasts and thrust it toward Zylas. The rat took the stone between his teeth, skittered from his perch, and dropped it on the ground near his food. Placing one paw on the rock, he commenced eating.

Collins looked at Falima. "What was that about?"

In response, Falima only shrugged.

"She can't understand you." Zylas' squeaks now formed high-pitched English words. "She passed the translation stone, and now I have it."

Knowing Falima had swallowed the stone, Collins did not want "pass" defined. "And you understand me?"

"Yes. But the others do not."

Torn between relief that he would not have to make conversation with two people who disliked him and worry that he might have to find other ways to make himself understood, Collins nodded his comprehension. If he could only communicate with one of his companions, he preferred it to be Zylas, even if he was a rat.

Collins glanced at his watch. It read a few minutes till six a.m. "So, what do we do now?"

Falima rose, brushed crumbs from her shift and cloak, and spoke a few words to Ialin, who nodded. She headed into the woods. The dog trotted after her, tail waving like a flag. With a few crisp words and a jab toward the men, she ordered it back. It obeyed, tail low, only the tip still twitching.

"Come here, boy!" Collins used a happy tone, and the dog bounded to him, tail again whipping broadly. He petted it, and it wiggled and circled in excitement. Zylas grabbed up the translation stone in his teeth and scuttled out of the way of the prancing paws. "Falima is switching?" Collins guessed.

Zylas' reply was barely audible. "Yeth." He dodged between the dog's feet to reach Collins and started clawing his way up Collins' jeans. The denim bunched under his claws and weight, dragging them down.

Worried Zylas might pants him, Collins bent, offering a hand to the rat. "Where are you trying to go?"

" 'our thoulder, ith 'ou peathe."

Thinking he understood, Collins hoisted Zylas to his left shoulder.

The rat scrabbled off, settling into the hollow between Collins' neck and shoulder. He spat out the stone and clapped it in place with a paw. "Can you hear me better now?"

It suddenly occurred to Collins that Zylas' speech had gone from halting and uncertain to grindingly clear since he had become rat. Though Collins knew it had to do with the magical stone rather than the transformation, the irony made him laugh.

Zylas' claws sank into Collins' flesh. "What's so funny?"

Collins went still, and the nails loosened. Resolved not to laugh or stumble again, to spare himself a gouging, he dismissed the thought. "Nothing important. So," he repeated his earlier, unanswered question. "What do we do now? Try the ruins again? Hope the guards have gone?"

"They're not gone," Zylas replied emphatically. His whiskers tickled Collins' ear.

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure." Not a bit of hesitation entered Zylas' reply.

Collins frowned. "So we have to get past them."

"Can't." The grim certainty remained in Zylas' voice.

"So you're saying it's impossible?"

Zylas did not waver. "Yes."

It went against every self-esteem-building encouragement Collins had received since infancy. "But nothing is really impossible."

"For us," Zylas said, "this is."

Collins opened his mouth, but remembrance of Falima's tirade choked off his words. Is it not enough that we will probably die for saving a cold-blooded cannibal? Do you want more innocents to sacrifice their lives for you? He did not want to die, did not want any of his companions to lose their lives, either, especially not for him. "All right." He tried to keep disappointment from his tone, without success.

Zylas clearly read beyond the words. "The guards will not allow us near the ruins. They will patrol now." He shook his head. "You cannot escape through that portal."

That portal. Fresh hope flared. "Could we… could we maybe… find another portal?" Collins looked up, remembering his companions for the first time since he had asked about Falima's transformation. The buckskin grazed placidly at a patch of weeds, her golden coat glimmering in the patch of sunlight penetrating the forest canopy. Ialin was stuffing Falima's garments into the pack, and the dog lay curled on the ground at his feet.

Zylas paced a circle on Collins' shoulder, clearly vexed. His gaze played over the party as well, lingering longest on the dog. "I don't know of any other portals…"

Anticipating a "but," Collins remained silent.

"… I know someone who might…" Zylas went suddenly still. "But…" He fell into a long hush.

When Collins' patience ran out, he pressed. "But?"

Zylas skittered down Collins' side, stone in mouth, then leaped to the ground. He darted to Falima's lowered head, dropped the crystal, stepped on it, and commenced squeaking loudly.

The horse pranced backward, trumpeting out a whinny, then another.

Slower now, more thoughtfully, Zylas approached Ialin. Their conversation lasted no longer than the previous one. Finally, he returned to Collins.

Wanting to forgo more scratches, Collins crouched, anticipating Zylas' need. He scooped up the rat and replaced it on his shoulder. "So?"

Zylas spat out the translation stone. "Falima only has a partial overlap, so she's difficult to converse with in this form, Ialin… well, Ialin will come around." He made an abrupt motion, as if shaking water from his coat. "Come on."

Having no idea what direction Zylas meant, Collins raised his brows. "Where are we going?"

"We're going," Zylas said thoughtfully, "to visit a good friend of mine."

They rode Falima, Ialin leading from the ground, Collins astride, Zylas sitting in the V formed by his legs. The dog trotted obediently at the horse's heels, apparently used to walking in that particular position. A gentle rain pattered on the leaves overhead, occasional droplets winding through the foliage to land as cold pinpricks against Collins' skin. He did not pressure his companions. Quite literally, they held his life in their hands. Or rather, Collins corrected, in their claws, talons, and hooves.