The night.
It was his time. It was their time. The time when the predators awoke and sought out their prey, the time when the blanket of darkness protected those who knew its secrets. The night was his friend, his ally, and it spoke to him in ways that no human could understand, whispers on the wind, caresses against his soul, light touches that reminded him endlessly of its presence. His every sense was open, active, at its peak, and he felt very much the master of his domain. He was king of this jungle, king of the night, the one that sat at the top of the pecking order. His mastery could not be challenged. Not by the humans, not by the thieves and other nightstalkers, not even by Jula.
Tarrin stood up to his full height and looked up at the White Moon, Dommammon, feeling its subtle song course through him. As always, now, he could see Miranda's cheeky face in the face of the largest of the moons, smiling down on him, making the song seem much more personal and uplifting than it would be for another Were-cat. The song of the moon excited his senses, made his instincts rise up within him and join with his conscious mind in a harmonious desire to do nothing but simply listen.
"What is it?" Jula asked curiously, looking up at him. The smaller Were-cat stood beside him on the roof, the very first roof she had climbed. It took her a moment to figure out how to do it. She had a Were-cat's body, but she had acted so much the human that she had never explored her newfound physical gifts. She knew she could jump great distances, but she had never tried. She knew she could climb as easily as a human could walk, but she never did it. He'd have to really work her to teach her about the physical limits of her body. They had some teaching to do tonight, and she had some learning. She leaned a bit closer to him, unconsciously, and her scent struck him. Bad timing, he supposed. Jula was reaching the peak of her fertile phase, and it was causing her to unconsciously advertise that fact in her scent. She didn't know she was doing it, but her interest was written all over her scent. Even now, just getting close to him was making it stronger in her scent. He was going to let that go on for a while, then sit her down and talk to her about it. See if she realized what was happening. He wanted to see how well she could control it, deal with it. Coping with what was a completely instinctual urge would be good for her, it would teach her how to let her instincts affect her behavior without taking over her rational mind.
"Look at the moon," he said in a serene voice. "Open your senses and look into its depths. The moon sings to us, Jula, it sings to all Were-kin. It's why most humans believe the myths about us. Open yourself to it and let it sing to you."
She did as he said, looking up at the moon for a long moment of silence. "I don't hear anything," she complained.
"Don't listen, Jula. Listen. Feel it inside you."
"I-" she began, then her ears picked up visibly. "I, feel something," she said in a wondrous voice, rising up to her full height and staring up at the moon. "It's very faint, but I do hear-no, I feel something. It's lovely."
"It's because your instincts are still isolated from you," he told her, looking away from the moon and looking down at her. Unfortunately, Jula was short. She wasn't much taller than Mist. That was unusual for a Were-cat, but then again, she was fully grown when she was turned. The increase in her size when she became Were wasn't very profound. "As the weave dissipates, you'll feel what I'm talking about more clearly."
"I never thought I'd find such feelings like this," she said in a whisper. "If it feels even better, I think I may have at least one reason to look forward to when the barrier weakens."
"It's not a curse, Jula. It's merely a change. You give away some pleasures, and gain others. A fair trade."
"I haven't felt very happy since I blundered and did this to myself, Tarrin," she sighed. "This has been nothing but a curse for me."
"Things may seem different, now that someone is here to help you," he told her gruffly. "But we can't stand around here all night. We have work to do."
"What is that?"
"We're looking for the Book of Ages," he said simply, reaching into his belt pouch and taking out the medallion. "Phandebrass made these. We have four of them, and every night, we split up and take a section of the city to search. They locate ancient objects of about the same size that the book is supposed to be. Finding it is just a matter of getting lucky."
"Odds are, the ki'zadun is doing the same thing," Jula said. "Such seeking spells are common Wizard incantations."
"True, but this is a big city," he said, putting away the medallion. "We have a ways to travel before we get to where we start looking."
"Then we'd better get down."
"Down? Jula, you are a Were-cat. We aren't afraid of heights, and these rooftops are perfect for us." With only a minor shift in weight, Tarrin vaulted from the rooftop, sailing nearly fifteen spans, to land on the roof on the other side of the street. He turned and looked at her expectantly.
"We aren't afraid of heights," he heard her say in a mocking tone, taking a few steps back, blowing out her breath, then dashing forward and jumping off the edge. She literally flew over the gulf between the rooftops, and overshot the front edge of the roof by nearly eight spans. She landed unsteadily in the middle of the rooftop, skidding to a halt, then she turned and faced him with a shocked look on her face. "Did I just do that?" she asked in wonder. "That had to be twenty spans!"
"About that," Tarrin agreed. "Now do you understand why you're not wearing a dress?"
Jula laughed. "I think I get the idea," she admitted. "That, and I'd be giving anyone who happened to look up while I was jumping quite an eyefull."
"You can do that without the dress," he said absently. "Let's go, cub. We have a long way to go."
What was second nature for Tarrin was something new and exciting for Jula. She learned quickly what the range was for her jumping, and was soon hopping from flat roof to flat roof with as much ease as him. Once she became more confident, Tarrin picked up the pace, having them move along the rooftops faster than a man could move on the street. The night air was cool and crisp, a common phenomenon when the air was so dry and the sun was no longer out to keep it heated, and it whistled in his ears as they travelled more or less in a straight line, towards the rising Twin Moons.
"Are those men over there?" Jula asked as they paused on one roof.
Tarrin glanced over, where two men were moving from one roof to another. Just not as gracefully or easily as the Were-cats. "They are," he replied. "Thieves use the roofs the same way we do. It's only smart. Very few people look up. The people who live in these houses come up sometimes too."
"I saw a couple of them. I think you steered us around one."
He nodded. "I don't think the lady would have liked us barging in on her."
"I didn't see her."
"You're still focusing on your jumping. We passed her about five minutes ago."
"I wonder what they do up here."
"Appreciate the view, I suppose. That, or get a breath of fresh air. It smells alot better up here than it does on the street."
"I noticed that. I can't identify half of what I smell, but not very much of it smells all that good."
"That comes with experience," he told her. "I can't identify every smell either. The only way to learn the smells is to investigate them."
"No thanks," she grunted. "I know all the smells I need to know. I know a human's smell, I know that Selani's smell, I know my own smell, and I know yours. That's all I need to know."
"Clever," he said applaudingly. "Tracking your own scent is a common trick. It keeps us from getting lost."
"I learned that one before I-before I went insane," she said hesitantly, a quiver of pain touching him through her bond. "I learned your smell so I can find you in case we get separated. And after that Selani tried to skewer me, I decided it was a good idea to learn her smell, so she can't sneak up on me."
"Good. You're starting to think like a Were-cat," he said.
"That had nothing to do with thinking like a Were-cat," she admitted. "That had to do with keeping my face in one piece."
"Don't let your guard down around Allia, cub," he warned. "She accepts that you're my cub, but she's still very angry with you. She won't forgive you for what you did as quickly or easily as I did, and her honor demands you be made to pay for your crimes. If she gets piqued, she'll try again. And if she does, you'd better run away from her as fast as you can. If you even try to hurt her, I'll rip out your spleen. Do you understand me?"
"So I can't fight back?" she flared.
"No, you can't," he said flatly. "Just get away from her if it comes to that. If you try to fight back, you'll just be killing yourself."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that you stand no chance against Allia," he said in a blunt tone. "She'd take you apart. She's my best friend, cub, and that means that she knows all my weaknesses. I'm not half as invulnerable as your old companions believe. She knows how to kill a Were-cat. She could kill me if she was serious about it. I'm not fool enough to fight her."
"If they only knew," she chuckled ruefully. "But they're not going to hear it from me."
"That's nice to hear," he said absently. "Come on, we're almost there."
Once Tarrin got them back to the neighborhood where he stopped searching the night before, not far from where he had found Jula, he squatted on the lip of a rooftop and pulled out the medallion. Jula watched in curiosity as Tarrin held it up, and it began to glow with a reddish aura. "It's pointing that way," he said, pointing with his finger to the southwest. "Not very far away either, by the looks of it."
"So it found the book that fast?"
"No, it found an ancient object either the same size as the book or smaller," he replied. "If it's not the book, the medallion won't point to that object again. We have to find it so we can see if it is or not."
"Systematic."
"Phandebrass can seem a bit of a flake, but he's actually a very sharp man," Tarrin said respectfully of the doddering mage. "When he puts his mind on a problem, he can be incredibly clever and resourceful finding an answer."
"I hope I get to talk to him. I haven't talked to anyone but you since this morning."
"They're keeping their distance," he replied. "I needed time with you, and I didn't want them tainting things. Phandebrass would be asking you a million questions if I gave him the chance." He stood up. "Let's go, cub. We may have all night, but we can't waste it all on our first bite."
"What are we going to do?" she asked as they jumped to another roof.
"We'll enter the building where it is and find it," he replied. "We'll do it without disturbing whoever lives there. The idea is to get in, find the object, and if it's not the book, then to get out without anyone knowing we were there."
"So we'll be thieves," she said with a strange eagerness in her voice.
"Something like that. The sneaking around will be good practice for you. I couldn't have set up a better exercise in skulking. Skulking is important for a Were-cat. We love to skulk."
"I think I can feel that," she replied. "The thought of sneaking around is… appealing. And it's coming from the instincts, not me."
"It's a hunting skill," he told her easily as they moved to another roof. "It's alot like stalking prey. That excites your predatory instincts."
The building holding the object turned out to be a very large warehouse, on the fringe of a district full of warehouses and large buildings. It was a closed building, with some yard between it and a large wall that was built around it to keep people out. Tarrin and Jula circled its perimeter to ensure that the target was inside. The wall was just as high as the buildings around it, so he could only see a small portion of the building's upper story. He had no idea if there were guards patrolling the property.
"They're not going to make this easy," he grunted, standing up at the edge of the roof closest to the wall. The warehouse was surrounded by houses and a large open space on the west side, and none of the buildings were very close to the wall. It was like it was a little island in the neighborhood. It was forty spans or more to the wall, out of jumping distance for Jula. Tarrin could possibly make it, if he had a good running start. He'd never tried jumping that kind of distance with such a small margin of error. Even jumping across the river back in Sulasia didn't have the exacting demands that trying for the top of that wall would have. If he missed, he'd announce to everyone in the area that someone was trying to break in.
"What are we going to do?"
Tarrin held out his paw, palm up, and extended his claws. "Climb," he replied. "Just stay close to me and be quiet, cub. We may run into guards, so keep your ears up."
He didn't have much of a plan. He rarely did. Even with Jula tagging along with him, his idea of going about it was very simple. Climb in, sneak around, find the object, then sneak out. They dropped down off the roof, and after pausing to make sure the area around them was clear of people-never a sure thing in this city of endless activity-they darted to the base of the wall. The wall was brick, covered with plaster. Clawmarks were going to show on it, but that was just too bad. Digging his claws into the plaster, Tarrin started up the face of the wall. Jula followed behind him, moving much slower as she worried about what she was doing, but the instinctive ability to climb was taking over even as she worried about it.
Tarrin reached the top of the wall and peeked in. It was a courtyard, its bare dirt packed with the movement of wagons and horses and people. This was a merchant's warehouse, and he used it daily to move his goods. His eyes narrowed on a trio of men walking along the side of the warehouse, away from where the Were-cats were. The warehouse was guarded. That wasn't much of a surprise. Jula reached the top of the wall and looked over, her ears picking up. "Guards," she said. "Looks like a merchant's warehouse, from the condition of the courtyard."
"I see you know something about theft," he grunted.
"I'm not a total idiot," she said in a slightly challenging tone.
"Let's argue later," he said brusquely. The guards turned the corner and disappeared, and Tarrin rose up and threw his leg over the wall. Jula moved to follow, and he climbed about halfway down the wall before letting go and dropping silently to the ground below. He motioned for her to do the same, but she hesitated. He heard her curse under her breath, then she pushed away from the wall and dropped nearly twenty spans to the ground. She dipped down a bit more than him-she wasn't as strong as he was-but the fall did her no harm.
"Come on," he said quietly, darting into the shadows created by the warehouse.
They entered through an open second story window. The interior of the warehouse was a huge open space, with a platform for the second floor that only ran about a quarter of the building's length before ending with no rail or barrier to keep people from falling off. The interior was packed with rows and rows of wooden crates, burlap bags, and clay jars and vats.
"Looks like he's doing well," Jula remarked in a very quiet whisper. "I smell men in here."
"There, there, and there," Tarrin pointed, to where his eyes, nose, and ears told him that guards were wandering. Three tiny spots of ruddy light drifted on the first floor, reflecting off the stacked crates and goods as the men patrolled the interior. One of them appeared between stacks of crates briefly, holding a small lantern in his hand to penetrate the gloom inside the large building, then he disappeared behind them. Tarrin held up the medallion, and it pointed to the floor below. The object was only a few hundred spans away.
"Over there," he pointed to where the medallion was indicating. "Remember, keep silent. We are ghosts in the night."
Putting a paw on the edge, he slid off of it and dropped to the packed dirt floor below with utter silence. Jula dropped down beside him, and they stalked into the maze of irregular corridors created by the stored goods.
He had to admit, she could move quietly. Jula seemed to have already learned the arts of moving quietly, for her wide feet made not even a whisper of sound. There was only the faint brushing whispers of cloth sliding against cloth, and the sound of their breathing and heartbeats. There were other noises, the scuttling and faint squeaking of the rats that lived in the building, the sound of a few bats and a couple of pigeons that had managed to find a way in and roosted on the roof rafters over them. The three men on the floor made the most noise, their boots impacting the hard dirt floor and creating echos through the cavernous building that Tarrin could track to keep tabs on their three adversaries. He led Jula on a meandering path through the crates, a path that kept them well away from the three wandering guards, letting the medallion home him in on their objective.
When they reached it, Tarrin found a snag in their little plan. The object was packed inside a wooden crate, and it was on the bottom of a stack of other crates. There was no way to get to the object without making noise, either by ripping the crate open, or unstacking the crates to reach it. Doing either would bring the guards, and that meant that they would be leaving bodies behind as clues for whoever tried to solve the mystery.
"It's in the bottom crate," he grunted in a faint whisper. "We have a problem."
"Not a problem," she said motioning with her hand. Tarrin felt her touch the Weave, and a weaving took form around them, encompassing the crates as well. "I just blocked any sound from leaving the interior of the weave," she announced in what seemed to him to be a loud voice. "Now we won't make any noise."
"I didn't think of that," Tarrin admitted, grabbing the side of the wooden crate, and ripping it away with his claws. The wood made a sharp cracking sound as he tore it from the nails holding it to the crate, but there was no echoing off the other stacks. The weave was indeed stopping sound.
"I may be a Were-cat, but I was a Sorcerer first," she said with a light smile.
Tarrin reached into the crate, and pulled out several objects, all of them antiques. The medallion pointed to only one of them, a brooch of jade attached to a gold chain to make a necklace. "This is it," he sighed, touching the medallion to the necklace, which made its glow wink out.
"Why would they pack jewelry in a crate and leave it in here?" Jula asked curiously.
"Exactly why you're asking," he replied. "How better to protect valuable goods than by hiding it in a sea of other goods? Unless you know exactly where to look, what are the odds of finding it?"
Jula looked about to say something, then she blinked and laughed ruefully. "That's so clever it almost makes me feel stupid," she said.
"This thing is in pretty bad shape," Tarrin noted clinically, holding up the battered old jade necklace. "Odds are, the man that bought it doesn't think it's as old as it is, or maybe not as valuable. Maybe he doesn't even know it's here. With so much stuff, how do they know what is where?"
"Records," Jula replied. "They probably have records saying exactly what they have, and where it was stacked."
"They'd have to," he agreed. "Or else they'd spend all day just trying to find things."
"What now?"
"Now, we leave," he replied, putting the objects back in the crate, and pushing the boards back into place to conceal his vandalism."
"Why not keep those?" Jula asked with a light smile.
"Because they're useless to me," he said simply. "Now drop your weave, and keep quiet. We're going back to the window."
The trip back to the second story was uneventful, mainly because the guards made so much noise that it was child's play to keep away from them. They were so loud that Tarrin had Jula lead the way, letting her exercise her senses to pick a path that would steer them away from them. She did very well, leading them in a very wide circle around the three watchmen, and back to where the ledge of the second story hovered over the floor. It was a simple matter to jump up to the ledge. Tarrin and Jula paused, kneeling on the edge of the second floor and looking down over the large expanse of stored goods. "How was that?" she asked in a whisper.
"Not bad," he complemented. "But we're not out of here yet. We still have a wall to climb."
That turned out to be no problem either. They waited for the single patrol to go around the building, then they darted out and started up the wall. Tarrin surprised Jula by vaulting up more than half the height of the wall and holding fast with his claws, then starting up as soon as he knew he wouldn't slip off. Jula gave him a slightly annoyed look, then backed up and tried it herself. She managed to hit the wall at the zenith of her jump, but her claws slid on the plaster for a split second, making her eyes go wide and causing her to gouge holes in the plaster with her claws to get solid purchase. He waited for her at the top, watching her climb up, and she gave him a hot look when she reached him. "Why didn't you tell me to do that?" she demanded.
"I thought you were experienced enough to think about it on your own," he replied calmly. "I see you still want to think like you have your old human body. You need more practice."
"This is new for me."
"That's no excuse," he told her. "Now, do you want to sit up here and argue until they see us, or do you want to get down and argue where we won't get caught?"
She gave him a hot glare, then threw her leg over the wall and started down.
After dropping off the wall, they darted across the open area and quickly returned to the rooftops. Tarrin knelt down to give Jula a chance to rest after their adventure, taking out the medallion and holding it up. "Get it off your chest, cub," he said calmly as the medallion began to glow with a faith radiance. The pull was very weak; the next object was some distance away, to the north.
"I know I must seem like a baby to you, but I'm not a child," she said in a growling tone. "I do know some things, Tarrin. Stop being so surprised when I show you that, and don't berate me because I'm not a perfect Were-cat female. I was human alot longer than you were, and I guess I have alot of what you would call bad habits to break. This isn't easy for me."
"And it makes you think about them when I bring them up," he said calmly. "I'm not trying to humiliate you, cub. I'm trying to make you think about things. And it's working."
"It's making me mad."
"Anger is a good motivator," he shrugged. "There were times when I wanted to kill Jesmind and Triana. You're getting nothing different than what I got myself." He stood up. "After we're done tonight, we're going to have a very long talk. You're going to tell me anything I want to know, and just to warn you, I'm going to ask some very personal questions."
"Why?"
"So I can get to know you better," he replied calmly. "So I won't be surprised when you show me you're not a child. I haven't done it yet because I wanted you to get a little bit more comfortable with me. Some of the answers aren't going to be what you'd say to anyone other than a husband. And maybe not even him."
Jula flushed slightly. "That personal?"
"More personal than that," he affirmed. "When Jesmind did it to me, I considered dying before answering her a few times. But then again, it probably won't be that bad for you."
"Why not?"
"Well, you're older than I was," he said absently. "You're a mature woman, so it's probably a very good bet that you're not a virgin."
Jula blushed furiously. But the remark caused her scent to shift, shift quickly, telling him that she was probably realizing what he had been smelling the whole time. She was coming into the peak of her estress, and that was making her very interested in him.
"I'm not going to grill you about your sexual history, like Jesmind did to me. I think she did that just to see how she could best go about seducing me, though," he said, tapping his chin absently. "Jesmind had what you'd call ulterior motives, from the very start. Anyway, all I really need to know is how connected you are with your sexuality. It's something that impacts what I have to teach you."
Jula laughed nervously. "You are going to teach me about sex."
"No. I'm going to teach you about the social customs of our own kind," he replied immediately. "And some of those are customs involving mating. We'll go into that later, though," he said. "I can see that talking about that with a male disturbs you. Probably because you're still feeling instinctual attraction."
"How do you know that?" she demanded, blushing again.
"The first thing you did when I said you're not a virgin is blush. The second thing was advertise your availability with your scent. I told you before, cub, you can't hide that. I can even tell that you're coming into your cycle of fertility, and that's part of the reason why you're feeling the way you do. You've been exuding that all night, whether you know it or not. To use a crude term, you're in heat, Jula. You'll learn all about those things when I explain how Were-cats interact socially, and you get a better understanding of your Were half."
"Well, I feel, exposed," she said hesitantly, sitting down on the raised ledge that served as a guardrail to keep people from walking off the edge of the roof.
"Welcome to reality, Jula," he told her. "You're not in a private world anymore. None of us are. Our scents give away a great deal of what a human would consider private. I can smell it when you're aroused. I can smell it when you're angry, or frightened, or even when you're happy. I can even smell it when you lie. Your scent gives away many things that you used to be able to hide from other humans. Because we live in a race of beings who can't hide things from each other, it makes us very open. That's probably one reason why the Were-cats seem so moody or irrational. They just don't hide their feelings, because in our own society, there's no reason to do it."
He sat down beside her. "Another thing you're going to find out is that we don't hold things against each other," he told her. "Since we can see into the emotions of others, what they feel doesn't impact us as greatly as it would a human who had such knowledge. We all know that we're rather mercurial in that regard. Were-cats in general are pretty emotional, but we're a bit flaky, to use an easy term. What we felt before doesn't really matter. It has to do with our instincts. When they're stonger, you'll understand. The past doesn't really matter to us. What we feel one day is nothing like what we feel the next, and what we felt yesterday usually doesn't matter. So if I got angry with a Were-cat, she wouldn't immediately hate me. She knows I'll get over it. And after I do, it's like it never happened."
"That's why you just brush off what you know," she said with a meek look at him. "You know I'm all but in heat, but it really doesn't bother you, does it?"
"Not a bit," he said firmly. "I know it's a part of you that you can't control. It does eat a bit at my own instincts, but it's nothing I can't control. It doesn't change what I think of you in the slightest. In a few days, that'll ease, because you'll come out of season. Just be patient."
"You know, I feel better," she said sincerely, looking into his eyes. "I guess I felt that if you knew what I was feeling, you'd take advantage of me. Not that I'd mind," she remarked unconsciously. "And right now, I feel, well… indignant. It's like I'm saying 'here I am, come take me,' and you don't even twitch."
Tarrin chuckled. "That's your ego," he told her. "Were-cat females take rejection about as well as human women do."
"It's embarassing."
"It will pass," he said. "You'll feel much different tomorrow."
"I hope so." She glanced at him. "You mean it does affect you?"
"I'm not dead, cub," he told her. "That's why it's called instinct . Responsive females produce an instinctive reaction in the male she is trying to catch. It's basic biology."
"But unlike me, you can control it." She chuckled ruefully. "It's madness. I know you don't really like me and I don't have a prayer, but I still can't help feeling… well, sexual."
"Welcome to the world of instincts," he told her, standing up. "Even with yours suppressed, do you see how they can affect you? Even without you knowing it."
"Yes, I do," she replied honestly. "I feel like a slut."
"That's a human misconception," he said dismissively. "Now you get a lesson in one thing that all Were-cats learn."
"What?"
"How to let an instinct affect you without letting it overwhelm you," he replied. "This was actually good timing. Letting you cope with being in heat is good practice for you."
"I'm so glad you think this is such a good thing," she fumed, standing up. "You don't feel frustrated."
"And if I succumbed?" he asked. "What if I did take you for mate. What do you think would happen then?"
"I have no idea."
"You'd feel that your instincts would have to be satisfied," he replied. "It would hurt you more in the long run, because you'd just be teaching yourself to submit to them whenever they became uncomfortable."
She blinked, then gave him a long look. "I guess you're right," she admitted.
"I think that's about enough on that," he said, looking down at her. "Are you ready to go?"
"Let's go," she replied, rubbing her paws together.
There was very little more instructional conversation for the rest of the night. Tarrin led Jula around, and together, they sought out and discovered twelve more ancient objects. He observed her during that time, watching as she practiced jumping from roof to roof, snuck about people's homes with surprising stealth, learned the joy that her body and its abilities could bring. She seemed to adapt very quickly, as he knew she would. Alot of what he could do was an instinctive understanding of himself, and though her instincts were suppressed, it still managed to show in her. She was a bit more tentative, maybe even clumsier, than an experienced Were-cat, but that too was natural. Cubs rarely had the same grace as their elders. Though he was only Were for a little under a year, his reliance on his nature for his very survival had given him an ease with himself that surpassed naturally born Were-cats five times his age. Jula seemed to sense this, and she strove greatly to match his effortless grace and elegance in movement. She failed, but he knew she would fail. It was the trying that mattered. Just like an animal's cub, she was copying what she saw in her parent, mimicking him in preparation for the day when she would be on her own.
The games ended on a rooftop deep in the city, about an hour before dawn. Tarrin had stopped to take out the medallion and gauge their distance from the object it had discovered. Jula was behind him, paws on knees and catching her breath. She wasn't used to such activity. She had the strength of her blood, but she had burned out her endurance nearly an hour ago. She didn't exercise that much before she went mad, and it showed in her weak constitution; her strength would never wane, but her ability to apply that strength over time would weaken if it wasn't exercised regularly. Her regenerative recovery was slowing as she tired. She was also hungry, and in her delicate mindset, letting her go hungry too long would be very bad for her. He knew it was nearly time to go back, so she could eat and rest, and reflect on what she'd learned that night.
That was when the scent reached him. It was strangely canine in texture, but there was an unnatural pall laying atop it, infusing it, a horrible smell that he likened to burning ashes and sulfur. And beneath that was that same smell of corruption, of evil, that he had smelled once before.
"Tarrin? I smell…"
"Quiet!" Tarrin snapped, standing up and putting the medallion away. That canine component to the scent marked them as those Hellhounds that Camara Tal had seen. He scanned the streets below, seeking with his nose and his ears. The scent was coming in on the wind, and the wind was coming from directly ahead. The area before them was rather old houses stacked beside one another, almost like one continuously long building facing the street running left and right. They had to be on another street, and since he'd never smelled them before, he wasn't sure how far away they were.
"What is that?" Jula asked plaintively, putting her paw over her nose. "It smells awful!"
"Hellhound is my guess," Tarrin told her grimly, squatting down and scanning the street that ran from side to side below them. "Look behind us, Jula. They may just be diverting us. They'd never come at me from upwind unless they did it on purpose."
Jula turned around, and gasped immediately. "There are men coming up behind us," she said quickly. "Men in black cloaks. Tarrin, look at them!"
Tarrin turned to look, and he saw them. Four men wearing black cloaks, and they were dancing from rooftop to rooftop with a speed and a jumping ability that defied human limitations. They were about two blocks away, and they were coming up on them fast.
Tarrin didn't like this. Four men, who may not be men, and those Hellhounds to deal with as well. If that wasn't bad enough, he had Jula with him, and he'd have to worry about her safety. Trying to go around them wasn't an option; they were too far away, and could change their direction to intercept. That only left going forward, but the owners of those unnatural scents were in front of him, and they were an unknown enemy.
"Listen to me," he said in a quiet tone, his eyes igniting from within as he prepared to either fight or flee. "I'm going to lead them off. The first time you see an opening, run. Go back to Dolanna."
"I'm not leaving you!" she protested, her own eyes flaring into radiance, and she extended her claws.
"You stupid cub!" Tarrin said hotly, turning on Jula as the first of the four men hit the roof only one away from theirs. "I'm not asking you, I'm telling you!" Tarrin lunged forward as that first one crossed his roof and vaulted into the air to land on the roof Tarrin and Jula occupied. The move seemed to startle the airborne man, almost as much as when Tarrin reached the edge of the roof, turned his body sideways and put his arm straight out behind him, then whipped that arm over his body to impact the man in the shoulder just short of the edge of the roof. It was vast overhanded blow, instantly changing the man's momentum from forward to straight down, and it sent the man rocketing into the alley between the two buildings, smashing into a pile of old stones and debris with a loud crash. The other three skidded to a stop when they realized that Tarrin could prevent them from landing on the roof, looking between them. Tarrin saw that they all had exactly similar facial features; they were triplets. They had a handsome face with swarthy Arakite skin, black hair, and were tall and sleek. Their scents reached him, and they seemed human… almost. There was human in it, but there was also something else, something that seemed faintly similar to what he smelled off the Empress of Arak. A smell of wrongness, but nowhere near as strong as it was in her.
The three of them hesitated, and that turned out to be a fatal mistake. A sizzling blast of lightning issued forth from behind him, and it struck the one in the middle squarely in the chest. He was blown off his feet by the power of the magical assault, crashing to the roof as an ear-splitting boom of thunder rocked the neighborhood. Tarrin glanced behind him, and saw Jula, lightning crackling around her paws as she wove together the flows that generated lightning attacks, Air, Water, and Divine power, turn her stance and raise her paws against the one on her left. She was about to loose on him, but the one she'd struck bounced back to his feet, seemingly unharmed by her magical attack. A shadow appeared to his side, and to Tarrin's shock, the fourth man, his features identical to his companion's, vaulted from the ground just before him, holding a sword with a black blade.
He just barely managed to recognize the danger. He brought up an arm in time to deflect the slicing blade of that black sword, hitting his manacle as Tarrin's arm whipped up, parrying the blade high and away from him. The man's feet touched the roof, and Tarrin turned on him with shocking speed, reversing his arm and ripping his claws across the man's chest, a move that would have torn ribs out of a human. His claws sliced through the man's black doublet, but could not penetrate his skin. The physical force of the blow staggered the man back, making him tumble off the roof once again, but it did him no real harm.
Fear crept into him as he backed up from the edge of the roof, towards Jula, who looked on in shocked confusion. They couldn't be harmed! Tarrin's claws could hurt anything because he was a magical creature, but they had been repulsed by that strange near-human's skin! And Jula's Sorcery had done little more than blacken the man's shirt! Surely, the physical impact of the blow knocked him down, but it did no injury at all!
Tarrin stepped back in awe. They were Demons!
Demons! Beings not of this world, who could not be hurt by anything of this world! They were defenseless against these monsters! The only thing they could do was knock them down! Tarrin got in front of Jula protectively as the three on the other roof jumped over to theirs, and the fourth joined them a second later. They stood there, smiling malevontly as the howling bays of the Hellhounds picked up, chilling his soul.
In that instant, he realized one important truth. The Empress of Arak was a Demon. And since she was in such a position of power, these had to be under her control.
There was nothing he could do. They were invulnerable. There was no way to fight them. Flight was the only option, but they were very close, too close. And he couldn't get all four engaged at once. One of them would surely split off and chase Jula, who was tired from the long night. His own safety wasn't all that important, but Jula's safety was entirely another matter. She was his responsibility, his child, and he had to protect her.
The other three drew their black-bladed swords, and they slowly started walking towards them. They took their time, and the evil smiles on their faces told him they were enjoying the shock and fear of their quarry.
Physical impact. The Demon had been knocked down by impact, even if it did him no harm. Physical impact!
His green eyes changing to white, Tarrin opened himself to the Weave. Its power flooded into him, engulfed him, sought to devour him. Magelight appeared around his paws as he raised them, the power blinding him to the danger as he struggled to contain it, to focus it. He narrowed down his focus, found his way in that moment. It was not the mindless fury of rage that gave him the power to stand in the face of that tidal wave and control it, it was the very rational need to protect, to defend Jula, his child, against these deadly opponents. His protective nature exploded within him, granting him the power to control the raging torrent of power that infused him. With a primal scream, Tarrin wove together a weave of pure Air, a weave of monstrous proportions. And with a backhanded whip of his arm, he released it against the four Demons, a white arc of Sorcery that suddenly exploded outward, away from the Were-cats.
The result was a hammer's blow of solid Air, an arc of magical power that raced away from him at supersonic speeds, slashing across his assailants and catching them up with its power. The wave of Air grew as it moved away from him, travelling hundreds of spans in the blink of an eye, and behind it cracked an ear-shattering boom as the air was literally ripped asunder by the power of his magic. The buildings in front of him shuddered when the shockwave hit them, then simply disintegrated against the might of the spell. The debris and the Demons were picked up by the wave of air and sent flying forwards as the weave dissipated, showering the buildings beyond the terminus of the spell with huge chunks of masonry. The roof beneath them suddenly cracked from the extreme force applied against it as the weave expanded as it moved outward, and the entire building began to sway and crack, readying to collapse.
Unable to comprehend that, Tarrin wilted to the cracking rooftop, struggling to find a way to let go of the Weave. It built up inside him out of control, raging into him and through him, trying to burn him away as the entirety of the Weave attempted to flow into him. It was too much to even try to break free, the flow was too great to curtail. He was not truly in a rage, he didn't have that self-destructive, burning need to use the power, which was what gave him the power to control his magic. Almost without emotion, he realized that this time, he had gone too far. He couldn't let go of the Weave, and it had already filled him to a point where he felt his insides begin to burn. He couldn't form the concentration needed to use the power drowning him. And without being able to expend it, it would destroy him.
And then Sarraya was there. Her tiny body rising over him, she spread her arms out and used her Druidic powers. A scythe cut through the connection that existed between Tarrin and the Weave, severing the link through which the power flowed into him. The energy within him shuddered at that attack, and then it dissipated quickly, evaporating like smoke, generating a backlash that all but put him on his back. Tarrin panted heavily as the pain surged through him, knees and paws on the unstable roof, but then the searing throb began to ease as his regenerative powers healed him of the damage the Weave had done.
"Jula, get him off of there before it goes!" he heard Sarraya bark in an authoratative voice.
He felt an arm wrap around his stomach, and he was being physically hauled into the air. He heard the roof on which they had just been standing collapse as Jula fled from it. She landed on another roof and put him back down, but Tarrin felt well enough to stand. The pain had eased inside him, and though he felt a bit weak-kneed, he felt ready enough to move. They weren't safe yet. That attack didn't harm those Demons. It would only slow them down, and those Hellhounds were still out there.
"Sarraya," he panted as he stood, "what are you doing here?"
"I've been following you two all night," she said directly. "The others didn't want you alone with her." She glanced at the destroyed section of the city. "Those are Demons, Tarrin. We have to get out of here!"
"Demons!" Jula gasped. "No wonder!" She put a paw on his arm. "Do you need help?" she asked.
"I'm alright. Just go!" he barked, standing tall and straight, pointing in the direction he wanted her to go.
They scrambled from roof to roof as the people behind them came out to see what had happened, what had destroyed about fifty homes. The eerie howling of the monstrous Hellhounds followed them on the streets below, making it obvious that they were tracking the two Were-cats, leading those human-like Demons to them.
"Sarraya, it may come down to a fight!" he told her as he vaulted to another roof. He was just behind Jula; he intended to keep himself between her and any danger, and he could be there in case she began to weaken. Jula was tired, and using her Sorcery had taken more out of her than she was letting on. He could see it in how her knees shook every time she landed.
"We can't fight them, Tarrin!" she said adamantly, flying just beside him. "We can't hurt them!"
"We don't have to hurt them," he called back to her. "If they close in, we'll team up on them, so you can let me control what I'm doing. If I have control, I can send them to the moon! Can you get my staff?"
"It won't hurt them!"
"No, but it will keep them from hurting us!" he told her sharply. "I'm not going to face them again without a weapon!"
"There they are!" Jula said fearfully, pointing behind them even as they ran.
Tarrin glanced over his shoulder. All four of them were back, racing along the rooftops, catching up with the trio. "They're catching up to us," he told Jula as they jumped a wide avenue. Jula very nearly didn't make the roof, teetering backwards as she scrambled to get her balance; Tarrin had to catch her and pull her back up as he landed right beside her. "We're both too tired to outrun them. We have to make a stand, right here, where they have to jump a long ways to get here. Sarraya, can you get my staff?"
Sarraya's hands stretched out, what she did when she did her Druidic magic, and his staff simply appeared in front of him, on the roof. Sarraya's ability to conjure items, or summon forth existing items she had previously touched, was extemely useful. Tarrin reached down and picked up his staff. "Alright, just stay behind us, Jula," Tarrin told her quickly.
"What are you going to do?"
"Sarraya is going to choke off my Sorcery, can I can use it safely," he replied quickly, gripping his staff in his paws, feeling its comforting weight and feel. He always felt more confident when he had his staff. "If I have control, I can send those four flying into the sea. We'll be long gone before they get back to shore."
"Maybe we'll get lucky, and they'll drown," Jula snorted, but it was obvious she was afraid.
Tarrin's ears picked up, and his eyes lit. What an eminently simple idea! "Sarraya!" he said quickly, "could we do that?"
"Drown them? I doubt it," she replied. "But do they breathe? If they do-"
"If they breathe, we can kill them," he said with an ominous gleam in his eye. "Jula, if this works, I'm going to kiss you," he told her, getting between her and the quickly advancing four pursuers. "Now stay back, cub, you've done your part. Let us do the rest."
The four Demons lined up on the rooftop opposing Tarrin, Jula, and Sarraya. The Faerie was hovering over Tarrin's head, and she had her arms spread. Tarrin was hunched down with his staff in his paws, squaring off against the four of them with Jula safely behind him. He was not afraid. He had his staff, and he had a plan. With Sarraya with him, there was no way they could endanger his cub. But now he was looking to do more than simply toss them a few longspans. He studied them closely with his narrowed eyes, looking at their chests, looking for signs that these monsters breathed.
And they were! Their chests were moving, and he could hear their breathing from across the wide avenue separating them! With a malicious smile, Tarrin raised his staff in his paw, sensing the barrier Sarraya had placed between him and the Weave. He reached through it and made contact, and felt the power of Sorcery flow into him at a much more managable rate than the first time. Sarraya seemed to sense his power, and adjusted her control of the energy flowing into him automatically, allowing him to take in power at a very fast rate, but without hurting him. His paws limned over with the radiance of High Sorcery, and that made all four of them take a step back and draw their weapons, readying for some other kind of magical attack. They did not scramble. They stayed together.
They made it easy.
First, Tarrin wove a barrier of Divine power, a mystical border that appeared all around the four Demons, reaching down to the roof upon which they stood. The four of them glanced at the softly glowing dome of magical power, designed to create a physical barrier that would prevent them from escaping. Before they could respond to it test its power, Tarrin struck with the second weave, a reversed weave of Air.
In an instantaneous pop and rush, Tarrin sucked all the air out of the dome of power.
The four of them shuddered, and wide-eyed shock appeared on their faces. They made no sound-there was no air within to carry it-clutching at their throats with wide eyes. Misty vapors issued forth from their mouths as the air inside their lungs was pulled out by the vacuum, and it too was pulled outside the dome by Tarrin's sustained weave. One of them staggered and fell to his knees, but another managed to lunge forward jerkily, and he came in contact with the dome's border. He pushed at it inexoribly, and to Tarrin's shock and dismay, it parted before him, allowing him to push through and back to the air. He took in a deep breath, and then he hurtled over the empty air between that roof and Tarrin's, sword raised and an ugly sneer of hatred twisting his face.
Tarrin divided his attention between holding his two weaves and dealing with the physical threat approaching him. Grabbing his staff in both paws, he parried the sword as it drove towards his chest as the Demon landed. It staggered past him and turned, but Tarrin was on top of it immediately. It wouldn't get past him, it wasn't about to threaten his child! A furious assault made the Demon stumble backwards, desperately parrying Tarrin's staff as the Were-cat unleashed a fast staccato of slaps and jabs with the staff's ends, a routine designed to confuse an opponent and open his defense. That opening came as Tarrin smacked its weapon wide, then he spun into the shallow slash, let go of the staff with one paw, and whipped it around him as he came back around, giving the staff horrific force. It slammed into the Demon's side, picking it up as it folded around his weapon, and sending it crashing to the other side of the roof.
It didn't just jump back up. It held its side tightly, and it finally made a sound. A ragged intake of breath, followed by spitting out a mouthful of what looked like black blood.
Tarrin stared in shock as the Demon struggled back to its feet. It was wounded! He had hurt it! No, he hadn't hurt it. The staff did!
There's a bit of magic hiding in the staff, a magic that gives the wood its unusual properties, that short, bald human Sorcerer had said back in the Tower, the botanist that had been studying his staff. Something about the Demon was causing that magic to come forth, causing it to inflict true injury to the Demon. At first, he dismissed the staff's abilities and unusual attributes as merely curious, but now, now it mattered. The wood had injured to the Demon, and the Demon was afraid of it. That had to be it. Why would it bother parrying the staff, when it could do it no harm? It should have simply allowed Tarrin to hit him, then stabbed him with the sword. It was what Tarrin would have done, if he was facing a human with a non-magical steel sword. But it didn't. It seemed to sense that the staff was dangerous, even when Tarrin could not.
Was the wood unworldly? Could that be where it got its unusual magical properties from? It was possible. Ironwood was dreadfully rare. It only grew in the forests surrounding Aldreth, and finding a tree was a search that sometimes took months to accomplish. Maybe it was that rare because it had come from some other world, and had only just begun to spread on this one. If that were so, then it could harm the Demon.
There was one way to find out, one way or another.
Ears laying back, Tarrin exploded into motion, moving with the speed of a striking viper. He closed the distance on the Demon before it had the chance to react to his blazing eruption of activity, staff low and wide. It did manage to raise its sword when he was on top of it, but Tarrin had the longer weapon. Holding the staff in both hands, he drove it before him, past the sword, allowing its greater reach to strike the Demon before the Demon's sword could reach him. With eerie ease, Tarrin drove the tip of his staff like a spear, and thrusted it against the chest of his startled opponent. An opponent that made no attempt to defend itself.
The effect was immediate and dramatic. The staff encountered no resistance as it made contact with the Demon's chest, and it kept going. The staff erupted from the back of the Demon's cloak, pushing it out as the end drove out of its back. Tarrin had to twist his head aside as the distance between the two of them disappeared, and the Demon's weapon very nearly plunged through his left eye. He had expected, at the very least, that the staff would hit it and push it back. He didn't expect it to blow through the Demon's chest like a red-hot brand through ice. The Demon's eyes widened, and then a gush of horrible black ichor spewed from its mouth. He felt it sag against the weapon, the only thing holding it up, and the sword slipped from its limp fingers.
With a flick of his staff, Tarrin tossed the unmoving form off the end of his staff, off the roof. It tumbled thirty spans to land in a heap on the street, and it did not move again.
The other three were all free of his dome and vacuum; they must have freed themselves while he was busy with their brother. Tarrin rose up and stared at them challengingly, brandishing his staff. Then he levelled the tip at them, his expression again an emotionless, stony mask. "You'll never get over here," he called over to them. "I'll gut you as you land. You might be able to make it alive if you all jump at once, but I'll kill at least one of you in the bargain. Which one of you wants to die?"
They all looked at one another, and it was clear that they were afraid. Then, as one, they turned and fled back the way they came, abandoning their Were-cat prey.
Prey that had become the predator.
Blowing out his breath, he immediately gagged at the horrid smell assaulting him. The ichor and black blood that had come out of the body of the Demon were bubbling and sizzling on the roof, eating into it like an acid. The smell was ghastly. Tarrin retreated from that smell, from the acrid smoke issuing from just in front of his feet, and his worry turned to the staff. Could it be eating it away as well? He looked at it, and saw, to his relief, that it was completely clean. As if it had never been plunged through the chest of an unworldy opponent.
"Tarrin, did you do that?" Jula asked in wonder, as she and Sarraya came over to him.
"Do what?"
"Kill that thing!"
"It was the staff!" Sarraya said. "It hurt the Demon!"
"I think Ironwood didn't come from this world," he surmised calmly, looking at his treasured weapon with respect and appreciation. "Thank the Goddess I've managed to keep this. It just saved our butts." He looked at them. "Thanks, Sarraya."
"Thank Camara Tal and Allia," she replied. "They're the ones that threatened to tear off my wings if I didn't follow you. Are you alright?"
"It didn't even touch me," he answered her.
They looked over the edge of the roof, to the avenue below. The body of the Demon was dissolving even as they watched, turning into a grisly black spoor that melted and burned the cobblestones, eating them away and sending a greasy, acrid smoke rising from it. A Demon. They had faced Demons, and thanks to his staff, his precious staff, they had surived. They had even won. He never dreamed his staff had that kind of power, he never dreamed that it could be so critical. He'd had it for so long, he never associated it with anything special or amazing, outside of the fact that it was Ironwood.
"We'd better get back," Sarraya said. "Dolanna needs to know about this. And your kitten there looks about ready to fall over."
Quiet, his expression giving nothing away, he reached over and put his paw to the side of Jula's cheek. She seemed surprised when he pulled her close, then leaned in and kissed her on the other cheek. "I always keep my word," he told her with the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes. "Let's get back. We have alot of things to sort out."
"And I want a look at that staff," Sarraya stated as she turned and started back towards the circus. "Follow me! I know the way!"
Holding his staff in one paw, Tarrin herded Jula in front of him with a paw pushing against her shoulder, and then followed her as she started after the airborne Faerie.
Behind them, the eerie, hair-raising baying of the Hellhounds ceased. In its place rose a mournful howl, a howl that froze the marrow in Tarrin's bones.
It was far from over, but at least now he knew who would be sending them.
None other than the Empress of Arak.
A tent never looked so good.
Tarrin sat on the floor, what was left of a bowl of Deward's stew in his lap, sitting beside Jula. She had already devoured her stew, soaking up the gravy with a thick slice of bread. He had his staff right beside him, and he wasn't about to let it out of his sight, for quite a while. They were both tired, very tired. Using High Sorcery the first time had wiped him out, and using it again with Sarraya's help didn't do him much good. Jula had been pushed to her physical limit, then turned around and used Sorcery on top of it, which places a large demand on the body.
Jula. The cub had alot of guts. She didn't obey him, she stuck with him instead. She even attacked the Demons-before she knew what they were-to help him. He had the feeling that if they would have threatened her, she would have fought them, fought them as fanatically as she had fought against him when they battled. She probably would have lost, but she wouldn't back down, and she wouldn't run. And now that he thought about it, she could have easily put that lightning in his back rather than using it against the Demons. Her act of loyalty had raised his opinion of her several notches in his mind. If she was willing to fight with him, fight for him, behave when he was forced to place trust in her, then perhaps she was worth treating her like more than a burden.
They hadn't explained things yet. The others were all in Renoit's tent, as well as Renoit, sitting at chairs scrounged up and placed around his small table. The others knew something was going on, mainly because Sarraya had awakened Camara Tal, Dar, and Dolanna while Tarrin and Jula got some warm stew left on the embers of a cooking fire behind the main tent. Tarrin finished the rest of his stew quickly as Dolanna was served tea by Dar, and Camara Tal and Allia spoke quietly with one another. Sarraya flitted over and landed on Tarrin's head, sitting between his ears, and she was the one that started.
"We have a serious problem," she said seriously. "It seems we have attracted the attention of a group of Demons."
"Demons?" Dolanna asked. "Are you certain?"
"Oh, we're very certain," Jula said without thinking. "I hit one dead center with a lightning bolt, and it didn't do much more than burn his shirt."
"They were Demons," Tarrin said grimly. "I could smell it in them. Now that I know what I'm smelling. I raked one, and my claws didn't hurt it. That means it has to be something serious."
Dolanna sighed, and nodded. "If you could not harm it, then it must be something not of this world," she agreed.
"Oh, he hurt one, all right," Sarraya said with a wicked chuckle. "Tarrin may not be able to hurt them, but his staff here can. All this time, he's been carrying around something few people have ever seen."
"What?" Dar asked.
"I say, he's been carrying around something alien," Phandebrass answered. "Demons can't be hurt by anything from this world. If Tarrin's staff hurt one, then it must be from somewhere else, it does."
"I guess that means that Ironwood's not native to Sennadar," Tarrin surmised, then he told them the story of what happened. He was careful to be detailed, and Jula and Sarraya added things from time to time. Between the three of them, they managed to recant just about everything that had happened. "After I killed one, the other three ran away, and the Hellhounds started howling."
"I say, now that I heard," Phandebrass grunted. "Woke me in a cold sweat, it did. That's why I'm up so early."
Dolanna rubbed her chin with her forefinger and thumb slowly, her eyes lost in thought. "It is good that none of you were harmed," she said slowly. "But why would they attack you?"
"They seem to be interested in all of us," Camara Tal said. "That's the only reason I can think of that would bring a pack of them to me and Dar. There would be no way they could follow the bug, since she can fly. Have you seen any of them, Allia?"
She shook her head. "Not yet. But Dolanna and I move swiftly when we search. Perhaps they have not managed to track us down."
"Or they concentrate on one at a time," Sarraya pointed out. "First Camara, then Tarrin. One sighting is an oddity, but in this city, two is much more than a coincidence. You may be next."
"We will keep our eyes open," Allia replied.
"Do more than that," Tarrin said. "You can't hurt them with Sorcery, but they do have weaknesses. The ones I fought breathe. I tried smothering them, but they managed to get clear of the weave's effect before it killed them. They're also affected by physical force, but it can't hurt them."
"Yes, I remember that part of your tale," Dolanna said. "Should these creatures endanger any of us, we should strike in that manner," she told them. "Strike them with physical force and attempt to send them far enough away so we can flee before they can return."
"I think I can pray for a spell that will do that," Camara Tal assured the small Sorceress. "That should be no problem for you, Allia, Dar, or Sarraya."
"It still does not answer my question," Dolanna grunted. "Why would they attack?"
"I think that's your answer," Camara Tal said, pointing at Tarrin. "If Jula's old troupe knows who he is, then it's a good bet that whoever sent those Demons knows who he is too."
"Someone not willing to let Tarrin have a chance to find the book first," Phandebrass added.
"Perhaps," Dolanna said. "It just seems odd, that they would attack with no discernible reason."
"Maybe they're borrowing a page from the ki'zadun," Jula offered. "Alot of their strategy concerning Tarrin wasn't aimed at killing him, it was aimed at pushing him," she told them. "Kravon figured that if he piled enough bodies around Tarrin's feet, the endless fighting and killing would drive him insane. That was if someone didn't get lucky and kill him first. It had the opposite effect, though," she chuckled. "It only made him stronger."
"It almost worked," Tarrin admitted in an emotionless voice.
"Then you're a good actor," Jula replied. "From what I remember, Kravon's reports all said that you didn't show any signs of losing your sanity."
"Tarrin is a good actor," Dolanna agreed.
Tarrin put the bowl aside. "I know who sent them," he said quietly. The ramifications of it were mind-boggling. If the Empress of Arak really was a Demon, then he foresaw a serious problem. She was in a political position to have them all killed, and do it legally. Why she would send other Demons to harass him when she could just send the army was quite beyond him, but there had to be some kind of a reason. Dolanna was right. They had to have a reason to attack him, something tangible. "Remember what I told you about the Empress, Dolanna?"
Dolanna gaped at him. "You can not be serious!" she exclaimed. "The Empress of Arak, a Demon?"
"Why not?" Camara Tal grunted. "Demons have powerful magic. It would be child's play for one to eliminate the old Empress and replace her. And if you were a power-hungry creature with that kind of power, how better to go about it?"
"It fits," Sarraya agreed with the Amazon. "Why build an empire, when you can just take one that's already laying around?"
"I can't see how they couldn't be connected," Tarrin grunted. "I've never even heard of Demons before last year, and there's no way that there can be so many of them without them working together."
"There are many types of Demons, lad," Phandebrass told him. "They range from the Demon Lords to the cambisi, the half-breeds. Human-Demon crossbreeds."
Dar shuddered. "That sounds horrible. Who would do that with a monster?"
"They probably had no idea it was a monster, my boy," Phandebrass said. "Many Demons have the power to shapeshift, and it's a much broader ability than Tarrin's. Demon Lords are equivalent to a god, where cambisi have only minor powers, as far as Demons rate things. Against a mortal, they would be virtually invincible. I say, you probably fought cambisi, Tarrin. Cambions, if they were male, and Alu if they were female."
"If they were the weakest of the Demons, I'd hate to see the strong ones," Jula said quietly.
"They used no magic against you," Phandebrass told her. "A Demon of greater status would never bother attacking you with a weapon. They do not need weapons."
"If the Empress did send them after us, we have to take some major precautions," Tarrin continued. "We're talking about the ruler of this empire. I seriously doubt that the Emperor runs things. Not with a Demon at his side. She probably owns him."
"What kind of precautions?" Dar asked.
"We disappear," Allia answered. "We vanish from Dala Yar Arak, and we stay missing. If she cannot find us, she cannot strike at us while we rest. Nor can she simply send her military to arrest us, and deal with us in the privacy of her dungeons."
"Agreed. Phandebrass, you and I are going to go find an inn today," Dolanna announced. "They do not know that you are part of our group, and I can disguise myself with Illusion. But I must say, I am still confused. If she indeed did send these Demons, why? She could have simply arrested us, or sent her army after us. We would be no match for the Legions."
"Right now, it doesn't make much sense," Tarrin agreed. "But she's a Demon. We have no idea how she thinks. Let's just protect ourselves without worrying too much about her motives, until we see more and can draw some conclusions."
"True enough," Dolanna sighed. "All of you, stay out of sight until Phandebrass and I return. If you must go out, then do so in disguise. Camara Tal, are you capable of turning a Demon?"
"I might be able to turn one of those cambisi, but I don't have the strength to turn a stronger Demon," she answered.
"What do you mean, turn?" Dar asked curiously.
"On this world, the only thing that can affect a Demon anymore is the gods," Dolanna explained. "Priests, who are the agents of that power, can use it in similar ways. A Priest has the power to turn the undead, the embodiments of darkness, to cause them to flee from the divine presence that the priest can project. A very powerful priest can destroy undead with that divine presence, for the power the priest is borrowing can be strong enough to sever the link between the undead and the dark energies that cause them to exist. Camara Tal did that when we battled Jegojah," she said with a bit of tightness around her eyes. "She banished the undead minions that the Doomwalker attempted to summon, though her power was incapable of affecting the Doomwalker itself. Demons are similar to the undead, and can also be turned, if the priest is exceptionally powerful."
"I'm not that strong," Camara Tal admitted. "I doubt any priest on Sennadar is. It would take the god herself to show up and do it."
"I don't have a god in my pocket, but I do know a couple of spells specifically designed to affect Demons," Phandebrass said. "Wizard magic can affect Demonkind, if they are specific spells aimed at them."
"Because Wizard magic comes from someplace other than this world," Dolanna agreed with a nod. "I did not think you would have spells like that, Phandebrass."
"I dabble in ancient magic," he told her. "I say, most modern mages wouldn't have those spells."
"Lucky for us you're such a busybody," Sarraya laughed.
He smiled at her warmly. "If we can find a suitable inn, I could lay a protective circle around it, I could. No Demon would be able to cross that line."
"What kind of inn would we need?"
"I say, a building that stands alone," he replied. "With a dirt or stone courtyard surrounding it. Someplace where I could draw the circle without its continuity being interrupted."
"An inn may not work, but a house might," Sarraya said. "I've been flying around this city for days, Phandebrass. You're not going to find many inns like that. A house, on the other hand, may be perfect. I've seen a couple surrounded by a fence. You could do your magic along the fence's perimeter."
"I say, only if they are circular, Sarraya," he smiled. "It must be a circle I draw. The magic depends on that."
"I didn't see any of those," she said, shifting a bit on Tarrin's head as he looked up at Phandebrass.
"How hard would it be to find a suitable house?" Phandebrass asked.
"Not hard at all," Dar answered. "There are agencies in Dala Yar Arak that rent houses short-term to visiting merchants. My father uses them when he travels here. We just need to find one of them and tell him what we want, and he'll find it for us."
"Then perhaps you should come with us, my boy," Phandebrass said. "I say, my Arakite isn't all that great, and it's not something I think we need to mangle in the translation."
"It shouldn't take long. If we have the money up front, we could have a house by tonight," Dar told Dolanna.
"Money's not a problem," Sarraya grinned. "I can conjure all the gold you need."
"Is it going to disappear?" Camara Tal asked sharply.
"You read too many fables, Camara," Sarraya grinned. "The gold I conjure will be just as real as the gold in your purse. It just won't be minted coins. It will be raw gold, but I can make them into coin-sized discs if you want it that way. I can't conjure refined goods, only naturally existing materials. The shape is up to me, but I can't duplicate a minting strike. That's just too much detail."
"I think we could negotiate with the house broker with gold nuggets," Dolanna assured the Amazon. "If we pose as ore merchants, it would seem reasonable for us to pay in ore. And unminted gold coins would look suspicious."
"Alright then, it sounds like a plan," Camara Tal said. "Dar, Dolanna, and Phandebrass will go find a more secure place to stay. The rest of us are going to stay right here in this tent until you come back. If you don't mind, Renoit."
The portly circus master, who had been completely silent, nodded gracefully. "It will be no problem, Camara, yes. This tent, consider it yours for now. My regret, it is only that you will not be performing, no."
"Renoit, I think you would be better off without us endangering your people," Dolanna told him with a smile. "I think we can impose on Sarraya to conjure you an entire chest full of gold, as a token of our tremendous appreciation for everything you have done for us. We would never have made it here if not for you and your kindness."
"Payment, it is not necessary, no," he replied with a gentle smile. "Your goal, it is a noble one. I am happy only to have been part of your mission. Things, if they go well, it will be enough for me to know I mattered."
"You've done more than matter, Renoit," Tarrin told him, looking him in the eyes. "You've been a great help to us. You put up with me, despite the fact that I directly threatened your people. You bent over backwards for us, even when it conflicted with your own plans. You even lost friends over us. We won't forget that. Ever. Sarraya is going to give you a large chest of gold, and you'll have our gratitude to go with it." He stared at the surprised circus master. "And if you ever need our help, just let us know. We'll find a way to help you."
Renoit gawked at him, then he laughed suddenly. "From you, that is a surprising speech, yes," he said with a rueful grin. "My people, they did not find you a burden, Tarrin. Your behavior, they understood it, yes. And they miss you, in their own way. Many of them, even Henri, they admitted that they felt safe with you on board. Any trouble, they knew you would deal with it. More, that was worth, than the need of stepping around you, yes."
Tarrin was surprised. Had they really felt that way? After all the trouble he caused the people in the circus, they still had the heart to feel he wasn't as bad as all that? In a strange way, it made him feel a great deal better. Even total strangers, people he didn't like, had the compassion to accept him. It made him feel ashamed for treating them the way he did.
"Arrangements, I must make them, yes," Renoit said, standing up. "Dolanna, dear friend, help is here, if you need it, yes. Just ask."
"We appreciate that, Renoit," Dolanna answered.
Renoit left without another word, leaving Tarrin quietly digesting his words. "We must go, Dolanna," Phandebrass said. "I say, we have to step lively. We don't want to be in an unprotected place at sunset."
"Yes, yes," Dolanna agreed, standing up. "Dar, come with us. The rest of you, please, stay inside and out of sight."
"I'll keep them from wandering, Dolanna," Camara Tal assured her. "Then again, these three probably won't cause any problems. At least they'd better not."
"Good luck," Allia told Dar as he stood up. "Be careful."
"We'll be alright," he told her with a smile, and then he touched the Weave and placed an Illusion over himself, his appearance changing to that of a short, older man in a very elegant black silk robe. Dolanna also hid herself behind an Illusion, that of a veiled Arakite with large, almond-colored eyes. Phandebrass' weathered skin, browned from living on a ship, and white hair allowed him to pass more or less for an older Arakite, albeit a pale one.
"Let us be off," Dolanna herded the others. "We do not have much time."
The trio filed out with wishes of luck from those left behind. Tarrin didn't say goodbye to them, for his mind was mulling over what Renoit had said. He felt like a heel. He hadn't been very kind to the circus performers. He only knew one or two names. That seemed worse than being unfriendly to them. He didn't even bother finding out their names. He'd been on that ship for months, and he only knew four names. He could have at least been civil to them. But then again, at that point, he wasn't capable of it. He was too afraid, too feral. He was still too feral. He could tolerate speaking to strangers for short periods, but he got uncomfortable if he was forced into extended contact with them. And crowds of humans made him edgy. There was no real reason to berate himself for something beyond his control, but he couldn't deny that he felt disappointed in himself.
Jula put a paw on his knee. He glanced at her, looking into her eyes. "Can I go to sleep now?" she asked plaintively. "I'm exhausted."
"I don't think Renoit would mind if you borrowed his cot for the morning," he told her calmly.
"Good. I'm about to fall over," she said with a wide yawn.
"Feel like a game of stones, Allia?" The Amazon asked. "I'm going to beat you this time, even if I have to cheat."
"It will be all we can do," Allia smiled. "Set up the board. And be warned, if you start to cheat, I will cheat back."
"Then let's put our swords over there," she grinned. "I don't think Tarrin and Jula will be very happy if they wake up to a swordfight."
Jula scoffed as she stood. "It would take an earthquake to wake me up," she told them. "I haven't felt this tired in years." She went right over to the cot, then flopped down onto her back. "Heavenly," she said in a dreamy voice, then closed her eyes and almost immediately fell asleep.
Tarrin shapeshifted into his cat form, then padded over and jumped onto the cot. He laid down at the foot of it, laying against Jula's furred ankle, and closed his eyes quietly. Until the others came back, there was nothing else to do but sleep.
But sleep was elusive. Unlike Jula, Tarrin didn't need sleep. He could go two rides without sleeping, and his mind was too active to rest it. So much had happened, so much craziness had occured, he didn't even want to think about it. So he distracted himself with another subject, something not as grim or serious as what happened the night before.
Jula. Her presence was making him reflective, and it focused on his own first contact with his own kind, Jesmind. He missed her. Jula's heat was affecting Tarrin, but for the strangest reason, it was making him think of Jesmind. She was the first female he'd been intimate with, and in the strangest way, the only one. Mist hadn't been intimate. But Jesmind had shared herself, all of herself, and she did it both in and out of bed. She had sought to know him completely, and she had given of herself in return for that. She was such a chaotic influence on his life. Both friend and enemy, she was the only woman he'd ever known that he wanted to strangle and take to bed at the same time. Their feud had been resolved, however, and she had left him for some serious reason. He still didn't know why she left. Triana wouldn't even tell him. At first, he had missed her presence. Then he was angry with her for abandoning him. Now… now, he just wanted to see her. At least he understood her. She was very simplistic in her motives, though she had a very complex personality.
They had been together a total of only four or five days, without fighting, anyway, but he remembered all of it. And it felt like much longer than that. It had been… memorable. At that time, he'd been too nervous or confused to really appreciate what was going on. But now, looking back on it, he realized that Jesmind had gone far beyond simply being a female looking for a male, gone beyond a bond-mother educating her child. There had been more there, much more, and she never bothered to hide it from him. Jesmind liked him, very much. It may not be love-he wasn't sure if she could feel like that, since marriage was an alien concept to a Were-cat-but it was something along those lines. Infatuation, to use a good word.
Jula. She didn't interest him, not like Jesmind did. He had to admit to himself that he was changing his mind about her, but though his dislike for her had been mellowed into tolerance, he still found no real desire for her inside him, despite his instinctive reaction to her condition. All her condition was doing was making him long for Jesmind.
That was a sobering realization. Tarrin put his head on his paws and considered it. Despite all the insanity Jesmind had brought into his life, he still wanted her. Perhaps it was just a conditioned reflex, since they had been intimate. And the memory of it still made him shiver. It was more than simple lust, however. He missed her simple view of life, he missed her towering honesty and her headstrong way of attacking life. He missed her smile, her wry wit, the way she made him feel like he was the most special male in the world. He even missed her embarassing remarks. With Jesmind, he always knew where he stood.
He closed his eyes. Warm thoughts of Jesmind flowed through him, and that was enough to calm his racing mind, and allow him to drift into sleep.
GoTo: Title EoF