Mickey Reichert: The beasts of Barakhai

The words startled Collins. "You did?"

Zylas' lids parted to reveal the familiar, pallid eyes. "I watched you for a long time. Made a well-researched, long-studied decision. Surprised?"

"Very," Collins admitted. "Why me?"

"None of us wanted more deaths, and you are our last hope."

"I was your last hope?" Collins forced himself to blink, still stunned. "How so? My world has about five billion people at last count. You could always grab another."

"No. You are our last hope." Zylas thrust his hand into a pocket, emerging with the translation stone. "Our last of these, my very own, this one a unique treasure because it allows communication even in animal form. I was supposed to give it to you, but I just couldn't let it go. I won't put Prinivere through that spell she cast on you again for any reason. She nearly died, and she's not getting any younger. She's still weakened from it."

The details did not fit. Collins tried to clear his head, to force order to the last vestiges of chaos. "Why didn't the people of Falima's town guess what I was, given that I wasn't the first?"

"To them you were."

"Oh?"

"You were the first to leave the ruins before I could switch to man form and explain."

"Why didn't you just talk to me as a rat? You had the stone."

"What do you think drove our first visitor mad?" Zylas blinked with slow deliberateness. "And what was your hurry to go tearing off into the unknown, anyway?"

Collins felt foolish. "I was hungry. Very very hungry."

"I left you food."

Collins ran a hand through dark brown hair that seemed to have grown an inch since his arrival, and it felt wonderfully clean. "I-I didn't see any food."

"You didn't look."

Collins felt a warm flush of defensiveness. "You should have put it in plain sight."

"If I made it too obvious, you would have worried you had stolen it from someone else. Or that someone had laid it out for you, poisoned."

Collins doubted either of those possibilities. "I was too hungry to worry about things like that." He thought it far more likely he would have passed up the stems, roots, and insects as some science experiment rather than food. Given how well-read I am, it took me stunningly long to realize I had entered another world. "And how do you know what I would have worried about any way?''

Zylas shrugged. "As you pointed out, I made mistakes in the past. But I want you to know this. You were the first one to leave the ruins prematurely and the only one who killed. The others kept searching for the way back home." The corners of his lips twitched, but he did not smile. "And I thought your need to find these might keep you there long enough." He drew Collins' glasses from another pocket.

Collins gasped, snatching the offering from Zylas' hand and planting them on his face. Instantly, the cavern leaped to bold relief. He had forgotten how sharp every crag could look. Each blade of straw became singular and distinct, its colors a gradual blend of yellow, white, and gold. He saw lines in Zylas' face he had never noticed before. "Thank you, you horrid little thief."

Zylas grinned to show he took no offense. "You're welcome, you big ugly murderer."

Though faced with a harsh joke, Collins forced a chuckle. He resisted the urge for a crueler one, though Zylas had given him the ammunition by opening his life's story. He did not want to discourage the albino rat/man from sticking with even the most difficult truths.

"You weren't supposed to kill anyone, and you weren't supposed to get arrested."

Collins nodded, realizing a grimmer truth. At that point, Zylas Could have abandoned him for another champion as they had not yet met or spoken. Collins could not have given away any information anyway, since he would have been executed before he found a way to communicate. "How did you ever manage to get Falima in position?"

Zylas waved a dismissive hand, as if to proclaim the whole thing no bother. "We'd been working on her for years, carefully trying to sway her to our side. You can see the advantage to having a horse-guard as a spy."

"Yes." Collins wondered how much convincing it had taken to push her that final step knowing that it would involve turning herself into a wanted fugitive to help a man she considered a murderer and a cannibal. No wonder she acted so hostile toward me. He could understand why they had chosen Falima, a Random considered a lesser being than the other guards, at least according to her. He had to know, "You took a huge and unnecessary risk saving me."

"Unnecessary?" Zylas' brows rose with incredulity. "I had led you here. I couldn't just let you die."

It was not literal truth. Zylas could have let him die simply by doing nothing, though Collins knew he meant his morality would not have allowed it. "Ialin would disagree."

Zylas did not deny it. "As did Falima at one time. She came around. He will, too." From a pocket, he pulled out the folded, broad-brimmed hat he usually wore to shield his easily burned face and eyes from the sun. "Though I would spend my life for my cause, I don't expect others to do so." Anticipating some comment about those who came before Collins, he added swiftly, "usually. Besides, I had chosen you too carefully. We needed you." All humor left his features. "We still do."

Zylas looked so earnest, so pleading, Collins found it impossible to meet his gaze. He might have to refuse him. "What's so special about me?"

"You're smart and resourceful. You're willing to sacrifice for others, and you really do understand how they feel."

"Well." Collins felt his face grow hot, embarrassed by the praise he had elicited. "I try to be a good person."

"You are," Zylas said. "I knew it from watching you. Dogs obey all horse-guards and superiors, but they like people of good character."

Collins wondered if Korfius' loyalty sprang more from believing him royal, but he had to admit the boy seemed to have a deep affinity for him.

"And Prinivere supports you. That's the highest praise I know."

"Thank you," Collins said, though the previous lies left him wondering whether Zylas' tribute stemmed more from desire and need than truth. "So tell me. What, exactly, does the stone do?"

"What did the king tell you?"

Collins blinked. "Will that change what you tell me?"

"No," Zylas said firmly. "I just wonder…"

"He doesn't know."

Zylas grinned broadly. "Good."

"Nor do I," Collins reminded.

"Yes, you do." Zylas dipped his head with clear sincerity, wadding the hat in his hands. "It enhances magic, pure and simple. It would, hopefully, give our Prinivere enough power to help us. Maybe even enough to reverse this curse."

"Curse?"

Zylas stared, as if he found Collins' question the most absurd one ever uttered. "This whole spending half our lives as animals thing. You know."

Collins physically jerked backward. "You can… fix that?"

"Don't know yet. Prinivere needs to have the stone in hand-or should I say in claw-to analyze it."

"Wow."

"Yeah," Zylas agreed. "Now do you understand why we want it?"

"Yes," Collins said, though he shook his head. "But why don't you want the king to know? Stopping the switching helps everyone. Doesn't it?"

Zylas threw the question back to Collins. "Does it?"

Collins folded his legs and leaned against the cavern wall, considering. He wondered if his bland perspective made him miss something obvious to those whose lives cycled from human to animal on a daily basis. He supposed someone with perfect overlap might find some advantages over those who fully lost half or more of their rational time to becoming some lumbering, half-witted creature. People like Zylas. Collins shook his head. The very one he thought might have the least reason to change was the same one who daily risked his life for it. "All right, I give. Who would want to keep the curse going?"