Zylas grinned. "She'll… come around."
It sounded funny to hear someone who barely knew the language using idioms. Collins guessed Zylas had learned English by example rather than textbooks. "I-I truly didn't know about the animal… transformation thing. Honest. I would never have eaten-"
Zylas waved Collins silent. "I know. Haven't talked into Falima… yet. I been there." He made a throwaway gesture. "She no been."
Collins filled in the missing words. "You've been to my world."
"Yes." Zylas wrinkled his nose.
Hope soared, and Collins smiled. "So you can get me home from here."
A light flickered in Zylas' soft eyes, and he shrugged. "Try."
"All right," Collins said carefully. "Try." He reminded Zylas of the obvious, "Because, if you don't, I'm dead."
"Yes." Zylas went back to stirring.
Expecting something a bit stronger, Collins chewed his lower lip. "I really appreciate your saving me."
"Mmmm."
"And your taking me back to the… the way back to my world."
"All right."
Collins glanced at the crock, recognizing it as the same one from which he had poured the beetles. "Um, are those… um… bugs you're cooking?"
Zylas followed the direction of Collins' gaze. "Fraharas." He translated. "Bugs, yes. Big, hard-shell bugs." He added, as if it might matter, "They clean."
Collins had not eaten since the rabbit. Terror had kept hunger at bay, but now he realized he would like a bite. Not bugs, "Is that what you eat?"
Zylas bobbed his head. "Bug. Fruit. Vegetable." He said the latter with an extra syllable and an improper emphasis, so it emerged like vejahtahbull. "Fish. Milk. Cheese. Egg-but not with baby in." He tossed the parcel of curds. "These better?"
"Much, thank you." Collins popped one into his mouth. It squeaked as he chewed it, but it tasted at least as good as any cheese in his world. He ate three more pieces before speaking again. "Do all people here become animals."
"Not opernes." He considered the translation. "King… and… such like…"
"Royalty?" Collins tried.
"Royalty." Zylas rolled his eyes as if tasting the word, then bobbed his head. "Royalty. Others all yes."
"And all animals?"
"Become person."
"All?" Collins put more cheese into his mouth, talking as he chewed.
"All."
Collins found the contradiction. "But you said you eat fish."
Zylas scooped a liquid spoonful of beetles from the crock and slurped it into his mouth. "Fish not animal."
Collins' gut churned, and he looked away to keep himself from vomiting. The logic seemed maddeningly circular. All animals became humans, but "animal" was, apparently, defined by the ability to transform to human form. "Anything else living not considered animal?"
The beetles crunched in Zylas' mouth. "Bug. Plant. Fish." He shrugged. "That all." He eased the crock fully from the fire.
Falima wandered off for better grazing, still well within earshot.
"And when you're an animal." Collins downed more cheese, keeping his gaze averted. "Do you remember and understand… people stuff?"
"Stuff?"
Collins tried to explain. "Speech, hands, manners."
Zylas scooped and ate more beetles. "Some." He clearly fought for words. "Depend on want. Age. Ex… ex…" The word would not come.
"Experience," Collins supplied.
"Experience," Zylas repeated. "Experience."
"So the more times you become a rat…" Collins trailed off.
"Better… overlap."
"Between human and animal forms?" Collins supplied "Right."
Collins ate more cheese, then asserted. "I think I'd spend half my childhood in switch-form, or even more. Get the hang of it as soon as possible." Feeling Zylas' intent gaze upon him, Collins met the pallid eyes.
"No choice."
"What?"
Zylas used wild hand gestures to punctuate his words, as if this might aid the translation. "Spend half time people, half animal. Change at time, same time, always. No choice."
"Every day?"
"Every day," Zylas confirmed.
Collins tried to understand. "So, half the day you're a rat and half a guy?"
Zylas nodded.
"Do you get to choose which half at least?"
"No choice," Zylas replied again. "No choice at all."
A million more questions occurred to Collins as they rode Falima, for hours, through the woodlands; but he remained silent as Zylas had requested. Sunlight sliced intermittently through breaks in the forest canopy, alternately covered by clouds and branches. Although Collins did not recognize the pathways they took, he had little choice but to trust his new companion. The rat/man had rescued him from execution and did appear to diligently check their route. At irregular intervals, he slid down from his position behind Collins to scout. Some things, Collins could figure out for himself. For example, clearly each person had an individual change time. Otherwise, Falima would have become human at noon, as Zylas had.
Brush rustled. Zylas reached around Collins to lay a pale hand on the left side of Falima's neck. Instantly, she swerved to the right, then went still.
Collins turned to look at his companion. The other man shook his head, gestured at Collins to remain in place, and made a motion near his mouth that Collins took as a plea for quiet. Worried about unseen dangers, he felt his heart rate quicken.
A squirrel appeared on the trail, an acorn clutched between its paws. It gnawed at the nut, flicking its tail in jerky bursts, then continued on its way.
Falima glided back onto the path. Collins smiled at Zylas' paranoia, which seemed oddly stronger than his own. Then he remembered. That squirrel could be the local police. As they continued on their way, Collins had to ask, "That squirrel. Was that someone you know?"
"No." Zylas replied into Collins' ear. "Durithrin."
Collins shook his head at the unfamiliar word. "What?"
"Durithrin," Zylas repeated, the word no more comprehensible the second time. "A… a…" He sighed. "Not… city… people."
Collins nodded, letting Zylas off the hook, though he still did not really understand. He guessed it was a concept his world did not need, something that applied only to human/beast interfaces.
Collins missed the signal that brought Falima to a stop. Zylas dismounted and disappeared into the brush. Collins remained in place, finger combing the horse's mane and laying the strands in their proper position. Falima stood stock-still, giving no sign she noticed his ministrations. Shortly, Zylas returned. "The ruins." He pointed ahead. "Not far." He flung a hand from Collins to himself, then jabbed it toward the ground.
Taking it as a signal to dismount, Collins slid to the ground. The movement revealed a tightness through the muscles of his thighs and buttocks that would likely become an ache by morning. His wrists had stopped bleeding, but they still dribbled clear fluid and throbbed with every beat of his heart. Both shoulders felt bruised. He looked at his watch. If correct, they had ridden for more than two hours.
Zylas talked softly to Falima and stroked her nose. The horse pawed the ground and snorted. A large insect buzzed past Collins' face.
"Ready?"
Collins looked up, only then realizing Zylas had addressed him. The blue-white eyes lay unsettlingly upon him.
Collins' gaze shifted unconsciously to Falima.
"She not come," Zylas explained, stepping around Collins and heading in the direction he had scouted. "No need."
Collins continued to study the horse, who had lowered her head to graze and seemed to take no notice of the humans' conversation. He hardly knew her; yet, for reasons he could not explain, he would miss her. "Tell her I said 'good-bye.'"
"I will," Zylas assured without looking back.
Collins turned and followed the rat/man through the brush, excitement building with every step. Soon, he would return to the mundane world of troubles that no longer seemed so significant. Staring death in the face, he might not have found courage, but he had found new perspective. Nothing less would ever seem formidable again.