Free Beholder's Eye by Julie E. Czerneda

water slightly downstream from where Ragem’s dark head surfaced.
    The river was by no means tamed yet, but its swift current was little more than a convenience to the slim blackness I had become. It was a form I hadn’t used since I was very young and Ansky had taken me touring the waterways of Lycorein. For a moment, I daydreamed, exploring memories.
    Guiltily, I brought my attention back to the present, turning my nose upstream to search for the much less aquatic shape of my companion. Once more I was pleasantly surprised. Ragem bobbed along the surface of the Jesrith, safely lodged among the branches of some floating debris. I raised a foot so finely webbed as to seem made of water itself to my forehead in salute as he spotted me, then dove. For now at least, the Jesrith would carry us.
    And carry us it did for much of that morning. I lazed along, feeding well upon a variety of small agile fish, and keeping a watch on Ragem. He was tiring, the hot sun beginning to take its toll on his unprotected head and body, but stayed alert to the appearance of my snout nearby. The current slowed gradually, grudgingly.
    After a while, Ragem’s makeshift raft sighed neatly against an undercut bank, twirled once, then ground a firm bed in the washed stone. Ragem took advantage of a confusion of similarly lodged tree trunks and debris, climbing this temporary ladder to the shore.
    I kept underwater as I cycled, using up the last of my excess mass in the change. It seemed the least of my worries what form I chose, but I stayed with the one we were both used to. Then I dripped out of the river to follow Ragem.
    He found a spot on the bank where shrubs larger than most curved overhead to provide welcome shade and shelter. We had been lucky; I felt my body tremble with reaction and shook water from my fur instead.
    Ragem moved forward as if in a dream, reaching a slow hand to touch the soft vulnerable skin along my throat. With him so close, I could only use one eye to see him, and tilted my head to better do so. Then he chirruped a complex sound. If I could have smiled, I would have. Vain Human, so proud of his knowledge, even now. “This form has trouble with the language of the skyfolk,” I apologized in comspeak. “And, yes, it was a lousy landing.”
    Ragem’s wide mouth curved up in a completely new way, and he began to laugh. I realized this was the first happy sound I had heard from him. It gave me the most peculiar feeling, almost as though I’d done something worthy of Ersh’s favor—which I knew couldn’t be right. “At least it washed off that stink,” he gasped, when once more able to speak. True. Though dripping wet, he did look and smell much better. “The Rigus lies behind that peak. My ship,” he added unnecessarily and with undisguised longing.
    I turned my head to follow his outstretched arm. A full day’s travel at least and, as I squinted at the hot white sun glinting against the mountains, a day sure to have more of the searing heat that kept the native population sensibly indoors. “No problem,” I yawned, dropping to all fours. I lay down, putting my chin on my paws and stretching out my back legs to let the sand warm my belly.
    Ragem looked affronted and confused. “What are you doing?”
    “Getting some rest. You could use a bit yourself, Human,” I added kindly. “Sit down!” This more firmly as he showed definite signs of preparing to leave our shelter. “There’s no cover past this point, either from our pursuers or from the sun. We must wait.”
    Ragem’s attention settled on me as he obeyed, I thought reluctantly, and sat in the shade. “And what are we waiting for—Huntress?”
    I didn’t miss the slight hesitation before the name, a new and not surprising wariness in his manner. “We’re waiting for the ordinary, Ragem,” I explained, sparing a moment to appreciate the irony. “A caravan. Preferably a large one, with lots of people and noise. There should be several today,