Collins remembered. The half-dragon twins of an ancient princess, embittered by their lot, had cursed all but select members of the royal family to spend part of their lives in animal form. Or, in the case of the dragons, in human form. In revenge, the dragons had slain the boys, only to find themselves hunted to extinction. Only Prinivere remained, still bearing the scars of wounds the hunters had believed mortal and the missing tail that had won them their bounty.

*The crystal is powerful, but my magic and vigor have dwindled too far. Zylas tells me there are two other dragons. Young ones.* Prinivere's sending contained a desperate hopefulness directed at Collins. He had told Zylas about the dragons, having learned of their existence from Carrie Quinton. One was surely Zylas' daughter. The other was a Random claimed by the king, as was his right, for execution as a dangerous carnivore. Apparently, it was male, as Quinton had talked excitedly of breeding them.

Collins shrugged. "I didn't see them with my own eyes, but I believe the person who told me about them."

"Carriequinton," Zylas supplied, Falima shifted restlessly from foot to foot, then dug at the cave floor with a heel. At length, she looked up and, noticing all eyes upon her, added, "She doesn't care much for you, Ben."

Collins pursed his lips. "Not surprising." He dodged Falima's gaze, hoping she did not know he had slept with Quinton. At the time, it had seemed natural, given how much they had in common and how he planned to get them both permanently back to their world having lived an intense experience that no one seemed likely to believe. "How badly did I hurt her?"

"Her face," Zylas squeaked, hiding his whiskery nose behind a paw. "Let's just say she's not beautiful any more."

Falima added, "It's a woman thing, but I think you hurt her heart, too. And not just from the pain of losing her looks. She seems to think you... betrayed her."

Collins sucked his lips all the way into his mouth. Quinton had grown up in a series of foster homes, bitter about her drug-addicted mother, which seemed to have warped her sense of emotional attachment.After just their one time in bed, she had imagined an entire life for them together. "She really hates me."

No one denied or confirmed the words, the ultimate affirmation.

Aisa squawked, and Collins jumped, wondering if he could ever get used to her doing that. Not that I need to, but the others do.

Zylas seized on the interruption. "In any case, we've searched the whole world for those dragons, without success. There seems to be only one place left to look." He lifted his head to Collins, who figured it out with ease.

"The royal quarters." It made sense that, if they needed Collins again, it would be to enter the areas of the kingdom warded against switchers.

"Right," Aisa corroborated in her parrot voice, apparently following at least part of the conversation.

Collins doubted the king would keep dragons in his bedchambers. "Maybe there aren't any dragons.

Maybe Carrie gave me wrong information."

Falima perched delicately on the opposite edge of the chest. "No. There are dragons. We started searching as soon as you told us about them and, early on, found some dragon signs deep in the castle dungeons."

"We?" Collins pressed.

"Spies," Zylas detailed. "Including myself. I definitely smelled my daughter's scent, though none of us ever saw her. The king must have moved them soon after our raid, and no one managed to follow their trail, now long cold. It's almost as if-she disappeared." Mist covered his beady eyes, and Collins read pain there. Zylas would not beg or deceive this time. He clearly had taken Collins' anger to heart and trusted Collins' previous claim that, if he had only known the facts, he still would have helped and would have proved better at it.

Such consideration seemed worth rewarding. It pleased Collins that someone had listened so intently to his words and followed them to the letter. Zylas is a real friend. He wondered if he had ever truly known another. The rat/man clearly had practice at treating others well, never leading from the rear but placing himself in the same, or worse, danger as his followers. "So," Collins said, "all I have to do is look through the royal bedchambers again."

Apparently missing the sarcasm, Falima said brightly, "That's it."

And Zylas continued in the same upbeat vein. "If you find them, we'll figure out a way to rescue them when you get hack."

"Oh," Collins said, glancing between his companions to see if they completely missed the obvious or were just better than he was at nonchalantly stating the impossible. "So I don't actually have to retrieve these dragons. Just look for them."

Falima's smile seemed genuine, filled with joy at having Collins seriously consider the mission so soon after demanding to leave. "Right."

"In the king's warded bedchamber."

"Right."

Collins blinked. "Okay. That all seems simple enough." He hardened his tone to make it clear he believed they'd all gone mad. "So long as you ignore the fact that I have to sneak onto the castle grounds, into the castle itself, and to the king's own bedchamber past a zillion guards and other royal employees all of whom... want to personally inflict on me the death of a thousand tortures. Or something worse."

He threw up his hands in disgust. "Are you crazy?"

Zylas' head swung toward Prinivere, who had obviously communicated with him alone. Then headdressed Collins. "Did I forget to mention you'd be disguised?"

Collins continued to stare in disbelief. "That was implied, but I don't think a little grease paint and a haircut are going to fool anyone this time."

Prinivere finally gave a sending to Collins. *He means disguised by magic.*

At last, Collins began to understand. "By magic?" It had nearly killed Prinivere to cast the spell that allowed Collins to understand their language, and Zylas had sworn not to let her risk herself like that again. "The crystal?" he wondered aloud.

*The crystal* Prinivere confirmed. *I can make you look like one of the guards without harming myself. And another will go as your partner.*

The nonverbal sending allowed Collins to understand that, by "your partner," she meant that whoever went with him would go in the guise of the guard's partner as well. He wondered what other spells Prinivere could now do that she could not previously manage hut decided not to ask. It might violate some ethical protocol, which would greatly upset Zylas, who always insisted on proper etiquette and respect for the Lady. An instant later, he remembered that Prinivere could read his thoughts. She could choose to list her new abilities or to let him know if she would tolerate a direct questioning. "Who would this partner actually be?"

Zylas piped in at once. "Me."

"You?" Collins' brows shot up. "But you can't get into the royals' chambers."

"Nor can anyone else. That's why we brought you." The rat tilted his head into a pose probably supposed to appear brave, though it merely made him look quizzical. "I can get you there and back safely."

Falima wrung her hands. Clearly, she wanted to intervene, to keep Zylas out of harm's way.

However, to do so would mean putting a lesser value on Collins' life.

"Can you guarantee that?" Although he knew better, Collins dared to hope.

Zylas' head glided back to its usual position. "Well, no, but... no one can ever..."

Collins forced a grin. "I was kidding."

"Oh. Well, then." Zylas' checks pulled across his muzzle into a ratty grin. It was a strange image, like a computer-animated commercial. "I'll do my best. I'm not going to run out on you."

Collins wondered if Zylas had actually used slang or if the spell simply translated it that way. Spell or stone or both, he reminded himself, only then recalling that he still had not pressed Zylas on the details of a question that had occurred to him way back in his own world. "So what happened to your translation stone?"

"I don't need it anymore." Zylas raised his head proudly.

Collins doubted the rat/man had suddenly learned all the languages of both worlds, along with every animal tongue. The spell Prinivere had cast on Collins interpreted only human languages, and they had told him the crystal Zylas always carried was unique. Collins jerked his gaze past the crates to where Prinivere once again rested with her eyes closed.

Zylas antic.i.p.ated the question. "No, she can't cast a spell that works like my stone did. But she was able to remove the magic from its container and place it directly into me."

Collins saw the pros and cons of such a maneuver. It meant Zylas could never lose his precious artifact; but he also could not lend it out as he once had to Falima and Collins. And the magic died with him, an event that seemed inevitable given the power and reach of those who hunted him. Now in his forties, Zylas had given the royalty problems since his youth. On the other hand, the stone could nolonger be taken from Zylas or lost by him, and not having to carry it left his hands and mouth free. Zylas'

value to the cause became wholly clear to Collins for the first time: a wise, bold, honest, and determined man with near-perfect overlap and a means to communicate with anyone in any form. Falima's instincts were right. The renegades could not afford to lose Zylas. "I'll do it," he said, the words out of his mouth before he could consider them. "But I can't take you as my partner."

Zylas' mouth dropped open, revealing his little pink tongue, and his crimson eyes bulged with distress and affront. "Why not?"

"Because they need you." Collins made a gesture that encompa.s.sed the entire cave. From the corner of his vision, he thought he saw the sleeping dragon smile.

Zylas dismissed the argument. "We need you, too. And you don't have any stake in this. I'm best-suited for the job, and I go."

Collins could not argue. He and Zylas did work well together, though he had to correct one thing.

"Oh, I do have a stake in this. I, too, have loved ones suffering by the curse and the king's decree."

Zylas' determined look went instantly blank. "You do?"

Even before he had broken up with a girlfriend with whom he had little in common, Collins had had few close friends. Aside from Korfius, his life had only grown more empty. "You, you dim-witted quadruped. I mean you." He turned his gaze to Falima. "And others, here, too."

This time an unmistakable smile stretched the old dragon's face.

Chapter 3.

WHILE Prinivere slept and recovered from her excursion, Zylas reminded Collins of a castle layout he still vividly remembered. The grand structure towered five stories, topped by a crenellated rooftop fitted with ballistae and patrolled by guards. The four corner towers stretched another ten feet toward the sky, and Collins could not lose the memory of jumping from one of these, Zylas in his pocket, to a cart full of hay drawn hurriedly into place by goats secretly loyal to the renegades. The hay had barely cushioned his fall, and the cart had broken, leaving him a gashed and b.l.o.o.d.y mess with several broken bones and damaged internal organs. The bas.e.m.e.nt held the dungeon, where Collins had spent a restless day and night while the castle staff waited for him to take a switch-form. The bas.e.m.e.nt also reportedly contained food and wine cellars and storage rooms, though he had not seen them during his imprisonment.

The drawbridge across the moat led to two courtyards opening onto the ground floor, which held the kitchens and various workshops. Above those, the library and great dining hall were familiar to Collins.

He had eaten a meal there and sneaked out, through the library, to search the uppermost floors. The third level reportedly held the servants' quarters. The guards slept in barracks, stables, and kennels in the inner courtyard. The superiors all had horse switch-forms, and the subordinates turned into dogs. In fact, Zylas had coopted Falima from a city guard force, and they had captured Korfius from that same force to keep him quiet after he found them on a hunt.

At some point during Zylas' description, Collins drifted into sleep. He came awake suddenly to find himself slumped over one of the wooden chests, his arm sticky with his own drool. Now in man form, Zylas conversed in soft tones with Prinivere, his voice an indecipherable rumble and hers, as usual, whollyinaudible. At the end of the chest, Ijidan gnawed at a piece of orange fruit clutched between his paws while Korfius watched curiously from the ground. A short, heavyset woman prepared a dining table on one of the other chests. He saw no sign of Falima.

Collins rubbed the sleep seeds from his eyes, wondering how long he had slept. He still felt sluggish, though time would tell if that came of recently awakening or honest tiredness. From habit, he glanced at his watch, which read 10:42 and could not be right. For Zylas to have switched, it had to be after noon.

He had missed his chance to set the time by Zylas' change, as he had done on his last visit. The modic.u.m of light that found its way through the heavy curtain of vines told him little. "How long was I out for?" he asked with a yawn.

All of his companions glanced at him, but only Zylas answered. "Long enough to miss three people's switches."

Though self-evident and riot the information Collins had wanted, he did not press for more. The spell awkwardly translated their time system into units comprehensible to him, but he doubted they measured it the same way. Hours seemed to be the same length, as all the switch times he knew about occurred on an exact o'clock so long as he set his watch by one of them. The Barakhains just seemed more naturally in tune with time and its pa.s.sage, not needing artificial conveyances, perhaps because they had to gauge more accurately. It would not do, for example, for Ijidan to become a man while clinging upside down chattering from some sky-high, finger-thin branch. "Yes, I see that. I'm sorry."

"I'm not." Zylas easily forgave the lapse, though he suffered most from the rudeness. "It means you're no longer upset, you're comfortable, and you've got the rest you need for the mission."

Comfortable was hardly the word Collins would have used, though he did not contradict. With a shrug that neither acknowledged nor disputed Zylas' claim, he headed toward the albino. Middle age coa.r.s.ened features that had probably once been handsome. His ever present broad-brimmed hat shielded the almost-colorless blue eyes and skin wholly lacking pigment. Thin, white hair fell to his shoulders, perfectly matching the nearly invisible eyebrows and lashes.

"Lunch time," the woman at the chest called suddenly, her voice shrill.

Collins turned to see four plates piled with objects he could not yet identify. His stomach rumbled, and he realized he had missed breakfast. Graciously, he gestured at the dragon. "My lady?"

*You go ahead, please,* Prinivere sent. *I'd rather wait a few hours and fill up in human form.

It doesn't take as much.*

Collins had never fully understood many of the details of the change, including digestion. He did not question Prinivere but drifted toward the makeshift table and the food it held. He realized the woman tending to lunch could only be Aisa, and her appearance surprised him. lie had expected someone more like Ialin: thin, androgynous, and flitty. Aisa seemed like a perfectly normal thirty-something, with swarthy skin, finely detailed features, and a calm manner that seemed almost slow. Her only exoticisms were brilliant golden hair, short-coified, and steel blue eyes. She gestured him to a spot, and he sat, cross-legged, in front of it. He waited until Zylas joined him, then Aisa, and finally the squirrel, who leaped to his place but did not remain there long. Throughout their lunch, he skittered to and from the table, taking a nut or a raisin, then scampering to a safe place to eat it.

Korfius dived into a similar plate on the floor, eating it clean before Collins could do more than examine his own food. He discovered a mixture of nuts, dried fruit and vegetables, and shriveled bugs like those he might find on a windowsill. He picked out what he liked, particularly avoiding the insects, then looked to Aisa for conversation. "Prinivere would rather eat in the form that more easily fills her belly, and I got used to having a rat steal my food. I know Falima prefers to eat in human form. Am I right in a.s.suming the smaller, lighter form is usually preferred when it comes to meals?"

"Not necessarily," Zylas said around a mouthful. "Depends on what the animal form eats, personalpreference." He swallowed. "Though it is her lighter form, Falima actually chooses to eat in human form as much as possible because a continuous diet of gra.s.s gets dull."

Aisa piped in. "And Zylas eats anything anytime in any form."

Zylas smiled, shoveling in another scoop of the mixture with a hand. "That's about right."

Collins crinkled his nose at the thought of what a rat might eat. "Do you prefer eating like a... well...

like a bird?"

Aisa gave a small heave at the shoulders. "Have you ever eaten like a bird?"

"No," Collins admitted. "Is it hard?" He remembered his aunt's c.o.c.katiel working on an apple slice, its beak shaving off miniscule pieces while most of the fruit wound up on the cage floor.

Aisa took a drink. "Just constant. We eat just about our own weight in food every day." She set the mug aside. "Between flying and opening seeds, we still have trouble keeping up." She placed her free hand on the bulge of her belly. "Obviously, that's not a problem in human form. I forget and eat like a bird, then wind up heavier than I like."

Collins laughed.

Aisa looked affronted, and even Zylas gave Collins a glare.

"You know, Ialin uses so much energy and needs so much food in hummingbird form, he can starve to death in an hour."

"I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at Aisa or Ialin." Collins resumed picking through his food, separating out the bugs. "It's just that we have an expression where I come from. Eating like a bird means just pecking a few tidbits out of the plate. Eating very light." He laughed again. "Boy, do we have that backward."

Now, his companions smiled.

Zylas swallowed. "Your people wouldn't be as in tune with animals."

Korfius whined and flopped a paw on Collins' knee.

Collins sc.r.a.ped the tidbits he had selected from the rest of the food on his plate, then dumped the discards on the floor. Immediately, Korfius pounced upon them. "Oh, we're in tune with some animals.

The ones we keep as pets."

Before Collins could take a bite of his own meal, Korfius had finished and placed his head on the man's thigh, begging more.

Collins' own words reminded him how much he looked forward to Korfius' transition, to the chance to ask the boy his preferences while in dog form. Korfius always seemed as happy as any dog, though smarter; but Collins worried that he might be missing some important need or desire. Like being human sometimes? He cringed at the thought of losing Korfius, though he would do whatever the dog/boy preferred... and like it. Absently, Collins dropped his hand to Korfius' head and scratched around and behind the floppy ears. The dog closed his eyes, in clear ecstasy.

Zylas watched the whole display as he cleaned his own plate. "I see that."

Aisa also studied Collins' every action, exploring other details. "You're not as skinny as Zylas and Falima described you, but I can see how you stay trim with Korfius around."

Collins just smiled, thinking it better not to explain that he usually did not give the lion's share of his dinner to his dog. He did not wish to risk insulting Aisa's meal preparation, as unappetizing as parts of it were to him. It made practical sense that a parrot would construct a mixed plate of seeds, pieces of fruit and vegetables, nuts, and small bugs, even in human form. "All dogs in my world eat like that."

"Ours, too," Zylas acknowledged. "But we common folk don't get to see them a lot, unless theycommandeer our larders in the name of the king."

Aisa made a sound, half-snort, half-squawk, that startled Ijidan. Dropping his nut, he sprang to a chest and scuttled across it to hide, flatly pressed, against the opposite side.