Zylas leaped to Collins' shoulder. Falima dipped her head, nosing for grass amid tiny trees and mulch. Ialin turned his back, perhaps surveying the forest, more likely relieving himself. Three hours bouncing around on horseback had given Collins a similar urge. Working around the rough material of a tunic now as soiled as his jeans, he urinated on a mushy pile of leaves.
"He's getting smaller." Zylas' sudden voice in his ear startled Collins, who jumped. Then, he sounded out the words and grew even more alarmed.
"Wha-what?" Collins stammered, stashing his manhood safely behind his zipper.
"Ialin," Zylas explained. "He's getting smaller. Switching."
Collins whirled to see, finding only an empty pile of clothing which the puppy snuffled eagerly.
Zylas continued, "You'll have to pack his things."
Collins nodded dully, now the only human. With a shock, he realized nearly twenty-four hours had passed since his aborted hanging. Then, too, all his companions had taken animal form, working together to rescue him from death. Approaching the shed clothing, he bent. Zylas scampered down his arm to the ground. Collins gathered the crudely sewn garments, approached Falima, and stuffed them into her saddlebags. He turned to find the pup crouched with its front legs extended, bottom high, and tail wagging cautiously as it urged Zylas to play. Realization glided into his mind. When Ialin appeared as a human, the dog was already in switch-form. Now, Ialin had become a bird again, but the dog remained a dog. "Zylas?"
The rat disengaged from the dog and approached.
"Shouldn't our… um… unexpected companion have become human by now?"
Zylas twisted his head to look over one shoulder at the puppy. "Not necessarily. Regulars spend more time in animal form than Randoms." He turned back to Collins. "If he just entered switch-form when he found us, I could even change before he does."
"Really," Collins said thoughtfully.
"We need to get going again." Zylas headed toward Falima. "I only stopped to give Ialin some dignity during his switch."
Collins trotted after his companion.
Zylas stopped by the grazing horse. "A boost, please? I can climb, but it makes her nervous."
Glad to help, Collins hefted Zylas to Falima's back, then mounted himself. Falima's head rose with obvious reluctance. Zylas clambered along her mane and thrust his muzzle into her ear. Falima snorted but resumed her walk through the forest.
Collins recalled that he had set his watch for noon about the time Zylas had become human, and Zylas had switched to rat form around midnight. Falima had turned into a horse at six in the morning and a human at six at night. Ialin changed at nine. That understanding brought a realization: Falima had lied. Aware his companions could and had exchanged information he could not understand, he prodded with utmost caution. "Regulars, like the pup, spend more time in animal form?"
Zylas returned to his steadiest position, planted between Collins' thighs. "That's right. And, on average, gain overlap at a younger age."
"Overlap meaning shared understanding and memory between forms."
"Right."
"Hmmm."
"What?"
Collins studied the white rat, suddenly feeling insane. If any of his colleagues had caught him talking to a laboratory animal like this, they would deem him certifiable. Thirty-six hours in Barakhai, less than a day with animal companions, and it already feels natural to converse with a rat. "It's just that you seem to have an exceptional amount of overlap."
"I do. Nearly perfect, in fact."
"Why is that?"
Zylas turned a circle, then settled against Collins. "First, I'm older than the others. I apparently have a natural talent for it. And I practice. A lot."
"Practice?" It seemed ludicrous. Practice what?
"Rats don't eat much, and any old garbage serves me fine in this form. I pay attention. I have no job. I'm not married. No… children." The last word emerged in a pained squeak, and he paused. He turned away for a moment, curling his hairless pink tail around his legs, then regained his composure and continued without missing a beat. "I've concentrated most of my life on enhancing my overlap, with good success." He added, "And it doesn't hurt that I spent my childhood in a similar enough form that I could use most of that training at adolescence rather than starting over. More like a Regular without the disadvantages."
Collins recalled that, until coming-of-age, children had the same switch-form as their mothers. "So your original switch-form…?"
Zylas obliged. "A mouse. My father was a blue jay."
Collins laughed, earning a glare from Zylas.
"What's funny?"
Collins did not lie. "It's an odd combination."
The rat's mouth stretched into a grimace that Collins interpreted as a weary grin. "Not in human form." He anticipated a question Collins had not even thought to ask. "And, yes, they were both albino."
Startled into silence, Collins took several moments to craft a coherent question. "Is… is… it common in… in your world?"
"Albinism?"
"Yes."
"No."
"No?"
"I only know of two others." Zylas licked at his fur. "I think that's what brought my parents together. Something in common other than the usual shared switch-form."
"Hmmm." The white mouse came easily to Collins' imagination, the jay with more difficulty, though he had actually seen one at Algary's science museum. He glanced at the passing scenery, mostly leaves and needles, trying to appear casual. The rain had stopped, but droplets still plopped irregularly from higher branches. "What about Falima's parents?"
Zylas continued cleaning himself. "A milk goat and a squirrel, I believe."
A Random. Collins had suspected as much from the start. When he learned Regulars kept switch-form longer, it had seemed nearly certain. He wondered why Falima had tried to deceive him. "And Ialin?"
"Owl and shrew."
That combination did not surprise Collins at all. It seemed to fit the hostile, flighty young man. "So, you're all Randoms?"
Zylas stopped grooming. "Who told you about Randoms?"
"Falima."
Zylas shuddered his fur back into place. "Yes. We're all Randoms. Except the pup. Once she came of age as a horse, Falima got fostered to guards."
That seemed odd, though no more so than most of the other things Collins had learned here. "Why?"
"All horses are guards."
"Oh." Collins asked the logical follow-up. "And all rats?"
"We're vermin."
It sounded shocking from the mouth of a human rat. "Well, yes, but… I meant what job do rats do?"
"Vermin were always discouraged from breeding, especially as Regulars. The only ones left come out of Random unions."
"So your… mouse… mother…?"
"Also a Random, yes. My father, too." Though Zylas did not seem uncomfortable discussing these matters, as Falima had, he did change the subject. "So, tell me about your world. I've seen many things that confuse me. Like why do you keep your white rats in cages while the brown ones run free?"
Chapter 7
BY the time they reached Vernon's ramshackle cabin in the 'woods, Collins suspected he had raised more questions than he'd satisfied, which seemed only fair. He felt the same way about Barakhai. Falima grazed the clearing. Zylas pulled clothing over his pale human body. The dog romped around all of them, alternately begging pets from Collins and exploring every inch of their new surroundings. Collins did not see Ialin but suspected the hummingbird buzzed nearby, more cautious since being mistaken for an insect and clouted across the forest. Within moments, the door banged open and a man, apparently Vernon, appeared, britches hastily tied over thick legs, still pulling a coarse linen shirt over his broad, brown shoulders. Though Collins had seen dark-skinned people in this world before, Vernon was the first who closely resembled an African-American in his own world. He sported close-cropped curls, full lips, and shrewd eyes nearly as dark as the pupils. Tall, well-muscled, and bull-necked, he made a startling contrast to the slight albino, who disappeared into his welcoming embrace.