Mickey Zucker Reichert - The Books of Barakhai 02 - The Lost Dragons of Barakhai

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THE
LOST DRAGONS OF
BARAKHAI
VOLUME TWO OF
THE BOOKS OF BARAKHAI
Mickey Zucker
Reichert
CONTENTS
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7,
Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Epilogue
DAW BOOKS, INC.
DONALD A. WOLLHEIM, FOUNDER
375 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014
ELIZABETH R. WOLLHEIM
SHEILA E. GILBERT
PUBLISHERS
http://www.dawbooks.com
Copyright 2002 by Miriam S. Zucker.
All Rights Reserved.
Jacket art by Paul Youll.
DAW Book Collectors No. 1230.
DAW Books are distributed by Penguin Putnam Inc.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is
strictly coincidental.
Nearly all the designs and trade names in this book are registered
trademarks. All that are still in commercial use are protected by
United States and international trademark law.
Book designed by Stanley S. Drate/Folio Graphics Co. Inc. This book is printed on acid-free paper.
First hardcover printing, August 2002 123456789
DAW TRADEMARK REGISTERED
U.S. PAT. OFF. AND FOREIGN COUNTRIES
—MARCA REGISTRADA
HECHO EN U.S.A.
PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.
To Sheila Gilbert the other half of the equation.
May she inspire, assist, and torture writers
(including me) for many many many more decades.
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank the following:
Mark Moore, the PenDragons,
Kevin & Bambi VanDyne, Sandra & Arthur Zucker,
Jackie, Koby, and Carly,
Spoon Branch mules
and the following:
Seeker, Aisa, Gryphon, Fluffy, Tigger, Mr. Kwik, Kelka,
Haakon, Dusty, Paladin, Masai, Ace, Fawn, Cassius, Kimba,
Bucky, McKinley, Modi, Raven, Snakie, Rocky, Doodle and
several others who provided invaluable research.
DAW Books Presents the Finest in Fantasy by
MICKEY ZUCKER REICHERT
FLIGHTLESS FALCON
THE LEGEND OF NIGHTFALL
SPIRIT FOX (with Jennifer Wingert)
The Books of Barakhai:
THE BEASTS OF BARAKHAI (Book 1)
THE LOST DRAGONS OF BARAKHAI (Book 2)
The Renshai Chronicles:
BEYOND RAGNAROK (Book 1)
PRINCE OF DEMONS (Book 2)
THE CHILDREN OF WRATH (Book 3)
The Renshai Trilogy:
THE LAST OF THE RENSHAI (Book 1)
THE WESTERN WIZARD (Book 2)
CHILD OF THUNDER (Book 3)
The Bifrost Guardians Omnibus Editions
VOLUME ONE:
GODSLAYER
SHADOW CLIMBER
DRAGONRANK MASTER
VOLUME TWO: SHADOW'S REALM BY CHAOS CURSED
Chapter 1
WILD barking awakened Benton Collins, and he sprang from his bed without thinking. The top sheet
and blanket entangled his legs, sending him sprawling, heart pounding, on the floor. Whining frantically,
Korfius thrust a wet nose into his face.
Collins pushed the dog away. He lived in graduate student housing, which normally did not allow pets;
however, Korfius was considered a hero, for bringing the help that saved Collins' life. The Algary College
staff and his neighbors politely looked the other way, treating Korfius like a seeing eye dog and not
throwing him up as an example whenever their own better-concealed cats, fish, and birds got evicted.
"Quiet, Korfius," Collins demanded, sitting on the bed and extricating himself from the awkward,
encumbering twist of coverings. He groped for his glasses on the standard issue dresser, clamped a hand
over one wire temple piece, and put them in place cm his nose one-handed. "You'll wear out your
welcome barking at… " Collins glanced at the digital clock at his workstation. " 3:16 a.m.!" He ran a
hand through sleep-tousled, dark brown hair and groaned. "What the hell are you doing up at 3:16 AM?"
Korfius nuzzled Collins, then ran toward the window, planted his forepaws on the sill, and bounced
back. In his excitement, he leaped on Collins' bed, over him, and back to the window again. Collins
watched the gangly legs sail past, the ears flying, the tongue lolling, the short coat an uneven patchwork of
brown and white. Though fourteen years old, the half-grown hound aged in human, not dog, years and
had the exuberance of a six-month-old puppy. Collins had acquired Korfius in Barakhai, a world he had
entered accidentally by chasing a white rat through the hallways of Daubert Laboratories. There, he had
discovered people who spent half or more of their lives as various animals. The few who had come to his
world remained in animal form throughout their visits, and Korfius had chosen to stay because he liked
Collins and preferred being a full-time dog.
Over the last year and a half, Collins had grown as fond of Korfius as the dog had of him, though he
still found their association a bit uneasy. He used leashes and collars only when absolutely necessary and
shared his own food because it seemed vulgar to feed a child Puppy Chow. Dressed only in his sleeping
boxers and glasses, Collins headed toward the window. A cool summer breeze chilled his torso.
Something thumped onto Collins' shoulder. He staggered backward with a savage gasp, smacking the
object with the back of one hand. It felt warm and solid, furry against his skin, and it tumbled to the bed.
A shiver coiled through Collins, and he whirled to look. A white rat braced itself on the disheveled pile of
sheet and blanket, whiskers twitching madly.
Collins stifled a scream, then logic took over. It can't be. Can it?
Korfius bounded onto the bed, sending the rat flying. It scrambled onto Collins' pillow.
"Hey!" Collins said.
The rat cocked its head. "Hey, yourself. What kind of greeting is slapping me across the room?"
It IS Zylas. Glad to see his old friend again, Collins replied in kind, "The normal reaction to being
attacked by a rat. What would you do if something jumped on your shoulder?"
Zylas twisted his head to look over the snowy fur on the back of his neck. "Anything small enough to
alight on my shoulder would have to be an insect, so I guess I'd… I'd eat it."
Still grossed out by one of the Barakhains' main sources of protein, Collins made a noise of revulsion.
"You'd eat it, huh?" He pinned the rat with a searching stare. "So you got off easy." He avoided the image
of dining on raw, unskinned rat meat, not wishing to arouse a more painful memory. When he had first
arrived in Barakhai, he had roasted and eaten a rabbit. Only when the villagers attempted to hang him for
murder and cannibalism did he discover the dual nature of its citizenry. Every human an animal, and
every animal a human. Collins did not forget the exception to the rule. Except fish, which they eat
freely and don't consider animal.
"Good point." Zylas paused to give Korfius a warning nip on the jowl that sent the dog into barking
retreat. One hind foot slipped over the edge, and the dog flopped to the floor. "Quiet, Korfius. I'm glad
to see you, too, hut we can say 'hello' without the ear-shattering racket."
The dog cocked his head, tail waving, chin resting on the bed. Usually, the animals of Barakhai could
not communicate much better than the ones in Collins' own world, but a crystal that Zylas always carried
allowed him to speak even with other creatures.
Crystal. Where is the crystal? A million questions came to Collins' mind at once. Before he had left
Barakhai, nearly dead from a beating and a fall, he had captured another crystal, one that enhanced
magic, from Barakhai's king and delivered it to one of Zylas' renegades. With the help of the last dragon,
the only beings who could use magic, the renegades had planned to remove the curse that forced them to
cycle through an animal form each day. Collins wondered about the friends he had made in that strange
Otherworld called Barakhai. Did the crystal ever reach Prinivere, that ancient, feeble dragon who was
also a distant ancestor of Zylas'? Did it enhance the little bit of magic she could still manage? Clearly, she
had not actually lifted the curse, or Zylas would have come to Collins in man form. Unlike Korfius, he
preferred being human.
Before Collins could frame the first question, a trumpeting whinny froze him in place. He forced
himself to turn toward the window, where a familiar fuzzy head peered in at them. A black forelock lay
tousled over a wide, golden nose, and black ears formed excited, pricked-forward triangles. The mare
tipped her head to regard them all through one shockingly blue eye.
Startled at finding a horse in the quadrangle, Collins gasped. "What the hell did you bring her for?"
Despite his accusatory question, Collins found himself smiling at Falima. For reasons he could not
explain, he had thought of her often in the year since he had last seen her. It had taken her a long time to
forgive his crimes of ignorance; but, once she had, he found her a brave and loyal ally. He stroked the
silky nose and scratched behind her ears. She rested her chin on the sill, sighing heavily.
"Bring her?" Zylas paced a circle on Collins' pillow. "Do you think I could stop her?"
Collins could not answer. He knew the one-way portal allowed anyone to pass from his world to
theirs, but only animals could move in the opposite direction. He had no idea whether they had to be in
beast shape when they approached the portal or whether the simple act of passing through it made the
change for them. In Barakhai, they had essentially no control over the switch. It happened at the same
time each and every day: Zylas at the equivalent of noon and midnight, Falima at 6:00. Presumably, Zylas
could have chosen a time when he held rat form and Falima human to sneak through the portal; but that
would prove difficult. While a human, Falima would have the mental and physical wherewithal to prevent
Zylas' leaving without her. While a horse, she only needed to follow him. And, despite a few brief visits to
Collins' world in the past, Zylas might not realize the problems inherent in bringing a full-grown horse into
an urban setting. Where he came from, all horses served as guards and lived in the most civilized areas.
Unconsciously, Collins adopted the high-pitched, singsong speech pattern most adults use when
speaking to babies and animals. "Can you talk in animal form now, too?"
Zylas answered for Falima. "Not yet. Overlap's not good enough."
Collins remembered that "overlap" referred to the ability to recall animal times in human form and vice
versa. Zylas, he knew, had what the old dragon called near-perfect overlap.
Zylas paced the mattress, and Korfius' eyes followed his every movement. "That crystal you liberated
allowed Prinivere to make more translation stones, but Falima tends to drop hers when she lapses into…
full horsiness."
Collins yawned, suddenly remembering what time it was. "It's great to see you guys, but it's the
middle of the night, and I've got classes in the morning. Why don't we all get some sleep and… " The
ridiculousness of his own suggestion penetrated his sleep-fogged brain before he could even get a reply.
"But not in the quad. A horse… would be noticed." And I'll get thrown out on my ear. This definitely
breaks my lease.
"Indeed." Zylas bowed his ratty head. "That's why we need to talk in Barakhai. Come with me,
please."
"Barakhai!" Collins found himself shouting and lowered his voice. "I can't go back there." He still bore
the scars of two falls: the first down the kingdom steps with soldiers and servants stabbing and beating at
him, the second a desperate leap from the parapets. Collins had tossed torches at the king's most faithful,
including Carrie Quinton, an adviser from his own world, and the king's brother. It seemed impossible
that he would not get arrested the moment he set foot in Barakhai, sentenced to another hanging… or
worse. Worse? What could be worse than strangling to death? It surprised Collins just how swiftly
the answer came to his mind. The possibilities for a slow, agonizing death seemed infinite.
Zylas balanced on his back paws. "You have to, Ben. We need you."
Collins did not agree. He studied Falima, suddenly wishing he had worn more to bed. The physical
therapy from his injuries, and the healthy habits it started, left him with some muscular definition to a once
too-skinny chest. He had grown a few more chest hairs, bringing his total to ten; and he had honed his
arms and legs so he no longer resembled a scarecrow. Collins found himself hoping Falima had noticed
the positive changes that had occurred over the past year. "I'd feel a lot better if you asked me. This
time." He made a direct and scathing reference to Zylas' previously luring him into Barakhai and danger
without giving Collins the least hint of what he was about to get involved.
Zylas' heady red eyes turned liquid. He clamped his front paws together and lowered his head.
"Please?"
"No."
Zylas' pointy face jerked up.
Collins suddenly felt foolish and cruel. It seemed unreasonable to request politeness and
consideration, then turn it down outright. "I'm sorry. I have a life here. In Barakhai, I'm a dead man."
Zylas stared, and his eyes turned steely. "At least… you have a life somewhere." He turned with an
unratlike air of irritation and dignity. "I thought you'd just hear us out. I thought you might care, be
curious. Or, that you might want a chance to talk to Korfius again."
Collins felt all of those things; but the last, strangely, seemed the most compelling reason of all. He did
want to know if Korfius was satisfied with this way of life, if he could do anything to make the dog/boy
more comfortable, if Korfius might not prefer his dual life in Barakhai. Collins had made a lifelong
commitment to the dog, since Korfius would probably outlive him. If Zylas and Falima had come at a
more decent hour, he might be able to think more clearly. "We can't talk here," Collins reasoned aloud.
"You… maybe, okay. But a horse? No, that won't go unnoticed." Now suspicious, he wondered if
Falima had come simply to force the issue. Without her, Zylas could have safely stayed and chatted.
Zylas turned a circle, clearly reading Collins' wavering. "Come with us. We can talk at the entrance,
or in a safe house, if you wish. We can always send you right back."
Sensing another trap, Collins found the problem. "It's a one-way door. Once I go through, I can't get
home."
"Not the same way," Zylas admitted. "But Prinivere now has enough power to send you back."
Collins still hesitated, unsure.
"She got you back last time, didn't she?"
Collins had to admit that she had. Otherwise, he would have died of his wounds in Barakhai, not
recovered in Algary's Intensive Care Unit. "Pretty much in pieces."
Zylas could not argue the point and, to his credit, did not try. "You can leave whenever you want.
Whenever you decide."
Collins set his jaw, considering despite his better judgment. He had finally got himself on the right
track. It had taken him months to recover enough to return to school full-time. He had won back his
laboratory assistanceship and found a way to make money using the translation skills Prinivere had
magically bestowed upon him to allow communication with the humans of Barakhai. The doctors could
not explain how a head wound could make a biology graduate student who had struggled through high
school Spanish speak every language they could throw at him fluently, but the hospital appreciated his
ability to bridge the gap between explanation and understanding for their non-English-speaking patients.
Prinivere's spell did not extend to the written word, however, so they could not simply ask him to
translate common descriptions and treatments into brochures. He had paid off most of his student loans,
the semester's tuition, maintained his quarters and his dog, and still had some pocket money for campus
movies, pizza, and an occasional, thus far unsatisfying, date.
Falima thrust her muzzle back through the window to whicker a low "come on." Zylas gave Collins a
pleading look. Korfius stood by the bed, tail wagging.
Collins heaved a sigh. "If I wasn't out-of-my-mind exhausted, I'd never even consider this." He gave
Zylas a steady scrutiny that he hoped looked rock hard. "I get to decide when I leave Barakhai?"
Zylas waved a paw. "You get to decide."
"Even if it's immediately?"
Collins saw no downside. He could still reconsider on the walk to the portal; and, even once there, it
was not an irreversible choice. It seemed safer to discuss any matter with a horse somewhere other than
the middle of campus.
"Why don't you pack a few things," Zylas said. "Just in case."
It was a reasonable suggestion, though it made Collins wary. "I can leave Barakhai any time? Even
immediately?"
Zylas opened his lids wider, making his fiery eyes seem to bulge from their pink-rimmed sockets.
"You're repeating yourself."
"It's called reassuring." Collins crinkled his nose. "And don't do that eye thing. It's freakish."
"Thanks." Zylas restored his features to normal. "I love it when my friends call my looks freakish."
Collins dodged the all-too-wide opening. The "eye thing" barely touched the
"transforming-into-animals thing." Without another word, he scooped up his backpack from the
workstation chair and dumped its contents onto the bed. Books, notebooks, and pens tumbled out, along
with an assortment of pipettes, a compartmentalized container filled with plastic balls and stems for
making models of molecules, and sundry other small accessories. He tossed two packs of TGI Friday's
matches back inside, added a mini mag light, his new multitool, three T-shirts, four pairs of underwear,
and two pairs of blue jeans. He dashed into the bathroom, Korfius trotting along at his heels. Opening the
medicine chest, he snatched up a bottle of Turns and another of Tylenol, dropping them into the sink. He
tossed in a bar of soap, a toothbrush, a razor, a plastic bottle of shampoo, deodorant, and toothpaste.
Seizing the hand towel, he folded all of his gathered things into it, bundled it up, and headed from the
room. As a last thought, he scooped up a roll of toilet paper. Dashing back to the bedroom, he
unceremoniously dumped it all inside his backpack.
"All right—" Collins started, then stopped, thinking of another potentially useful item. He jerked open
his desk drawer to reveal his new personal organizer, a programmable calculator, a mini tape recorder,
fold-up binoculars, and his working snacks. He had gone after the binoculars but grabbed the recorder,
three Snickers bars, a handful of beef jerky, and an open bag of dog biscuits, too. He was just adding
these to his now bulging backpack, when a pounding knock at the door startled him. Collins' mind had
already returned to the nearly inscrutable world of his companions, with its weird violations of physical
law and its strict and cruel legalities and punishments. He forced his muscles to uncoil, his breathing to
slow. The worst thing he faced here was expulsion or bankruptcy, a far cry from hanging.
"Hide," Collins hissed at Zylas; who, accustomed to doing just that, disappeared in an instant. Without
bothering to give a similar command to Falima, he headed toward the door, just as another fusillade of
knocking exploded through the room. Loud as thunder, it left no doubt about the mood of the person on
the other side.
Collins pulled open the door, only then remembering he wore nothing but boxers.
Professor Terellin studied him from the hallway, and several people peeked from partially open doors
on either side. The proctor of Collins' building, the gray-bearded philosophy professor usually handled
problems in a calm, rational manner that left little room for discussion. Now, his hair hung in a lopsided
auburn-and-white scraggle, rather than its usual neat comb over. Long-legged, slender, and distinguished,
Terellin reminded Collins of John Cleese playing the barrister in A Fish Called Wanda. He glanced
around the hallway, and the doors hurriedly shut. "May I come in?"
Collins stepped back. "Of course, Professor."
Terellin glided inside, closing the door behind him. He studied Collins in the dim light, then turned his
gaze to Korfius who lay in a stretched-out position of doggy comfort on Collins' rumpled bed. The man
cleared his throat. "We ignore your dog, Mr. Collins, despite the no pet policy, because he's a hero."
Collins nodded, well aware of that information. He had never taken great pains to hide the animal,
though he did not go out of his way to flaunt the dog either. "Yes, sir. Thank you."
"But a horse, Mr. Collins?" The professor made a bland gesture toward the window. "That's going
too far."
Collins' heart rate quickened, and he followed the professor's motion with his gaze. Possibilities
paraded through his mind, the most compelling to deny knowing anything about Falima's presence. He
discarded the urge, however. For her welfare, he could not abdicate responsibility. "Yes, Professor
Terellin. I agree."
The man grunted.
"You see, we need the horse for physiology experiments and… "So far, the explanation sounded
plausible, and Collins struggled to keep it that way. "… and I… well, I did the ordering. I certainly didn't
expect them to deliver her to my home but" Collins battled through the sleepiness that dimmed his
thoughts. " well, here she is. I jumped right out of bed and started making some calls, but it's hard to get
anyone to answer this time of night."
Professor Terellin's expression softened immediately. "Any luck at all?"
Collins rubbed a hand along his other naked arm, a nervous gesture. "I found a stable that'll take her."
He deliberately avoided saying where in case anyone checked the story. "I just have to get her there." He
gestured to his backpack. "I was just getting ready for the trip."
"And dressing?" Terellin suggested.
Collins blushed. He wore boxers to bed rather than his usual briefs out of modesty, but it was still
underwear. "Just getting to that, sir."
A bit of testiness returned to the professor's demeanor. "Well, hurry, please, Mr. Collins. I don't want
to have to explain this to the board. Or to the next fifteen people who want to know why they can't keep
a finch but I'll let you turn the quadrangle into a barn. What's next? Pigs?"
Collins tried a joke, though he was too nervous to make it a good one. "We've got some of the guinea
variety at the lab."
"No, thank you." The philosophy professor turned on his heel. "Just get that horse out of here."
"Right away," Collins promised.
The professor glanced back over his shoulder. "Do you want me to let your department know you
won't be in today?"
Collins considered, imagining the philosophy professor delivering his cockamamie story to his crusty
biology preceptor. The explanations that followed would probably turn wilder, enveloping him in an
inescapable twist of increasingly outrageous lies. Ultimately, he would have to come up with a logical
experiment involving horses or lose his fellowship. "Thank you, sir, but I'll do it by e-mail."
"All right," Terellin said. "You just get that smelly animal out of here ASAP."
"Consider it done." This time, the professor crossed the room and exited into the hallway without
looking back. When the door clicked shut, Collins sank down on the bed, feeling as tired as if he had
jogged three miles. A furry muzzle jostled his hand, and he reached down to pet Korfius, only to realize
the dog lay sleeping beside him. He opened his eyes to Zylas.
"You're quick with words," the rat said.
"A quick liar," Collins grumbled. "Something to write home about."
"So long as it's for the right reasons."
Collins simply shrugged. It was not the way his parents had raised him. The same parents who
pretended to love one another throughout my childhood, then divorced and forgot all about me as
soon as I left home. He realized they might not serve as stellar examples either.
Apparently sensing Collins' continued consternation, Zylas elaborated. "So long as you don't start
equating whatever you want to 'right,' you don't have a problem."
Collins looked at the albino rat, who returned his stare, whiskers twitching earnestly. Deceive the
philosophy professor, then talk philosophy with vermin. Mobilized, he rose, throwing up his hands at
the whole ludicrous idea. "I'm getting dressed."
Collins pawed through his clothing, emerging with a green pocket tee, comfortable jeans, gym socks,
and a clean pair of briefs. Turning his back to the window and Falima, he removed his sleeping boxers,
then pulled on his briefs and last night's jeans. He shook out the T-shirt. "This warm enough for the
weather there?" He did not worry about his packed clothing. Barring a sudden attack of insanity, he
would not be staying in Barakhai long.
Zylas bobbed his head. "Though you might want something with sleeves in the woods. For
protection."
"For protection?" Collins knew Zylas meant from weeds, branches, and bugs, but he could not help
adding, "What I really need for protection is Kevlar."
"Kevlar?" Zylas repeated.
"Never mind." Collins finished dressing, then pulled on his running shoes without bothering to untie
them. He tossed the backpack across his left shoulder. "Let's go."
Zylas sprang to Collins' shoulder. Falima whinnied, and Collins cringed. He whistled sharply. "Come
on, Korfius."
The dog leaped to immediate attention, then sprang from the bed to caper merrily at Collins' feet.
Usually, the dog did not get to accompany him in the morning, when he attended classes. Collins reached
for the knob, then froze in mid-movement. "I'd better send that e-mail. And I'll need something to lead
Falima with."
"Not necessary," Zylas said in his ear. "We can ride her."
Without a saddle or bridle? Like that wouldn't raise any more suspicions. Collins snapped on the
power-strip switch, then scanned the room for something ropelike while his Gateway EV70 and its
accompanying paraphernalia ran through their opening sequence. "I know that. But no one's going to
believe my story if I hop up on a strange horse without anything to control it and don't worry about
getting bucked to China." As his gaze fell across the familiar sparse furnishings, he mentally discarded
using electrical cords, rubber bands, and duct tape. His desk filled one corner of the room, most of its
surface taken up by the computer with its screen, speakers, CPU, and his Hewlett-Packard LaserJet
printer perched upon the familiar, black and white cow-spotted box that had contained the shipped
computer. An empty coffee can held pens, pencils, and markers and his assorted hard rock tapes and
CDs. On the shelf above sat the combination CD player/double tape deck/radio that played them.
Beside the desk, the television offered him nothing. He considered twisting up the bed-sheets or rifling the
dresser to find some clothing to sacrifice to the cause.
"Falima doesn't need to be led." Zylas' whiskers tickled Collins' ear. "She'll come along."
Focused on the rope hunt, Collins jumped at Zylas' voice. "True, but it'll look really weird if a horse
follows me around like a puppy."
The speakers blared out the six beats of music that indicated the computer's readiness. Collins leaned
over his chair, grasped the mouse, and clicked on the internet icon. The hourglass appeared, the icon
darkened, and the globe whirled in the upper right-hand corner. Finally deciding he might have some
rope in the kitchen junk drawer, Collins started to head back in that direction. A roll of speaker cord
caught his eye as he moved, and he grabbed it instead.
The high-pitched dialing notes rang from the speakers, followed by the intermittent static and
up-and-down resonances of the connection.
"What's wrong with looking weird?" Zylas stared at the computer.
Collins seized the coated wire, then returned to the keyboard. "Nothing, if you're a total geek, I
guess. Mostly, I don't want people asking a bunch of questions. If I start blathering on about other
worlds and animals who turn into people, I'll wind up locked in a loony bin like that first guy you lured to
Barakhai." Dropping the coil into his pocket, he tapped out a quick, vague e-mail about a family
emergency, clicked off-line, and initiated shutdown. "People already think I'm too tight with my dog.
Imagine what they'll think if a horse just—" Abrupt realization bombarded him. "—or if I've got a rat
hanging out on my shoulder!" He patted himself down for a suitable pocket and realized that the one in
his T-shirt would prove way too flimsy and small and the ones in his jeans seemed equally unsuitable,
mostly for anatomical reasons. Collins found himself wishing for the loose, coarse weave of Barakhain
clothing. "You'll have to go in the pack."
"Great," Zylas muttered with a discontented sigh. Nevertheless, he did as Collins bade.
Only then, Collins thought to mention, "Hey, you're talking to me without your translation stone."
The pack muffled Zylas' reply. "I am."
Collins had believed the rest of the question was implied; hut, when Zylas did not go on, he asked,
"How?"
摘要:

THELOSTDRAGONSOFBARAKHAIVOLUMETWOOFTHEBOOKSOFBARAKHAIMickeyZuckerReichertCONTENTSChapter1,Chapter2,Chapter3,Chapter4,Chapter5,Chapter6,Chapter7,Chapter8,Chapter9,Chapter10,Chapter11,EpilogueDAWBOOKS,INC.DONALDA.WOLLHEIM,FOUNDER375HudsonStreet,NewYork,NY10014ELIZABETHR.WOLLHEIMSHEILAE.GILBERTPUBLISHE...

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