Tarrin didn't sleep at all that night.
The words of this mysterious goddess of the Sorcerers had struck a chord in him that went deeper than he ever thought. She had been right; Tarrin had never been an overly pious person. The concept of actually believing in the gods was quite new to him. Oh, he believed they existed, and his family paid homage to several gods, but didn't actively worship any of them. Now he suddenly had been exposed to the real power and presence of a god, and it had shifted his theological positioning quite profoundly. Not quite believe in her, but have faith in her.
And she talked just like a person. A real, non-divine person. She seemed to have quite a sense of humor. He rather liked that.
He'd spent that first night back sitting on his bed, watching Dar sleep, musing over his visitation, thinking of Janette, rubbing the spot where Allia had popped him, and thinking about Jesmind's activities. They had placed a spell on her to guarantee her cooperation. Tarrin could understand that. But the way she looked at him when he'd sided with her against the Keeper made him more than a little nervous. Tarrin's feelings over Jesmind were never quite set in stone no matter what. One second he could miss her, and the next want to wring her neck. She'd spent the entire two months he'd been missing hunting for him. That surprised him. He'd have thought that she would have given up after the first month.
And it was so strange being back in the Tower. Dar had been very happy to see him, and they had spent the time between dinner and lights out catching up. Dar had taken the Test, and showed potential. He was starting the Initiate next month. Several novices they both knew had left the Tower for various reasons, and there was a rumor that there was going to be a Wikuni coming to the Tower and going through the Initiate. Dar himself was ecstatic over passing the test and going on to the next phase of the Tower training, for going back and being a spice merchant was the last thing on earth he wanted to do. The rules of the Test forbade him from even telling Tarrin so much as how long it took. If an Initiate passed information about the Test to anyone, he was immediately expelled. Dar was set to enter the Initiate at the beginning of the next week, which was only three days away. He had already finished his Noviate studies, and was spending his last three days working in the library with the Lorefinders.
As far as his first day back went, it was a continuation of what had gone on before. The Novices avoided him, the Sorcerers gawked at him and pestered him, and the Tower's servants and guards gave him looks like he was going to sharpen his claws on the furniture. The only real difference was that he really didn't care anymore. His time with his little mother had brought to him a balance, and he realized that there was nothing that he could do about the shortfallings of those around him. If they couldn't trust him, or didn't like him simply because of what he was, that wasn't his problem. He'd found his acceptance, with Allia and Dar, and with his family. There was no more he needed.
His family. He was a little nervous about seeing them, after what had happened, but he really didn't think that they would hold it against him. By now, they obviously learned about his nature as a Were-cat, and that was the only explanation that he could give to them. He felt that they could accept it. But it didn't make the reality of what had happened any easier to bear.
Dar yawned and rolled over. "Good morning," Tarrin told him calmly.
"You're up early," Dar said, rubbing his eyes and sitting up in bed. "What time is it?"
"Sometime around dawn," he replied.
"Did you sleep at all?"
"No," Tarrin relplied. "I'm too wound up to sleep."
"You're going to be hurting around noon," he said.
"No," Tarrin said. "I can sleep whenever I want for as long as I want, but I can also stay up as long as I want."
"Oh. I didn't know that," Dar said, putting his feet on the floor.
"I didn't either until about a month ago," he told him, unfolding his legs out from under himself and standing up. He stretched langorously, his paws brushing the ceiling, and he snapped his tail to and fro to get the tingles out of it. "I'm going to have a busy day today," he grunted. "They're giving me the Test, and my family is coming in to see me. Two things to worry about."
"The Test isn't all that bad," Dar assured him. "I'm not so sure about your family. Your mother makes me nervous."
"She does most people," Tarrin said.
"She really likes Allia. And Allia really likes her. They're two of a kind."
Tarrin chuckled. "Maybe now you understand why I got into such a deep friendship with Allia so quickly," he said. "She's so much like my mother, I couldn't help but like her, almost immediately."
Dar nodded. "She's been teaching your mother Selani. Oh, yes, your mother comes and visits her quite a bit. I've heard them talk a few times. Mostly, she's making Allia tell her about you."
Tarrin blinked. But then again, that was actually a good idea. Nobody knew Tarrin better than Allia. She'd been the only one he'd confide in over the months, and she knew how his mind worked. By talking to Allia, his mother was reacquainting herself with her own son. Tarrin rubbed his furred finger against his chin, thinking about it. That was a good sign, that she was so intent on learning about Tarrin's changes. That told him that she still cared, even after what had happened. Of course, he felt in his heart that she would forgive him, but a little backing up with hard evidence didn't hurt a bit.
He had changed quite a bit. And it went much deeper than the fur on his arms and legs.
"Your sister has learned it too," he added. "She can talk Selani just like Allia."
Now that was surprising. Jenna had a talent for languages; she could speak the trade tongue that was the commonly recognized language among the twelve kingdoms of the West, but she also knew High Sulasian, the archaic language spoken by high court and by some villages in the western areas, and she knew Dalasian, learning it from Karn the smith. That she learned to speak fluent Selani in a bit under two months was amazing. It reminded him how smart his sister was, much smarter than him.
"Allia is subverting my family," Tarrin said with a laugh. "Next we'll all be wearing desert garb and running the dunes."
Dar stood up and started dressing, and that reminded Tarrin to change out of his rumpled Novice clothes and put on some fresh ones. He was supposed to wear his usual novice clothes, but they were expected to be clean and very well groomed. The Test was as much ceremony and ritual as it was an assessment of his sorcery. Tarrin would never really look very well groomed, since his claws tended to shred pant legs and shirt sleeves. He found the best shirt and pants he had, showing very little wear from the passage of time and meeting up with the tips of his claws. The pants were always worse. The claws on his feet didn't retract completely the way his finger claws did, so they tended to snag on pant legs as he put them on, if he wasn't careful about it.
He really wasn't sure what he felt about the Test, even after thinking about it much of the night. He was a little nervous, but that seemed to be normal. Fear of the unknown was a common trait in anybody. He did feel alright with some parts of it, such as this vow he had to speak. The Goddess in the statue had told him that he could speak the vow without meaning it, just to humor the Council of Seven. Knowing that was coming was a tremendous relief. It wouldn't bowl him over, and what was important, it wouldn't present the Council with a bewildered, nervous poppinjay there for them to take advantage of him. He had a bit of confidence in what was to come, confident in the permissions given to him by the Goddess. Confident that he didn't have to challenge his independent nature when he was required to speak an oath that would put him into the service of another.
There was a knock at the door, and then it opened. Sevren was standing there, in his plain brown robe and the wire-rimmed spectacles he wore over his eyes. Sevren's scent was a bit nervous. Tarrin trusted Sevren, at least as much as he trusted any of the katzh-dashi. Sevren's interest in him had been a bit irritating at first, with all the strange questions and weird requests, but Sevren was very sincere in his desire to study Tarrin's Were condition, and Tarrin couldn't fault him for wanting to learn. Over the course of these little interview sessions, Tarrin had grown fond of the man. Sevren was a very easy-going individual, and for him to be nervous, about anything, was very much out of character. "What's the matter, Sevren?" Tarrin asked. Sevren didn't like to be called "master" or "lord" when they were alone.
"Oh, nothing, nothing," he waved off. "They're waiting for you."
"Already? I haven't eaten yet."
"Time waits for nobody, young one," he said. "Now hop."
"Yes, Sevren," he said, standing up and stretching a bit, working the kinks out of his tail.
Severen led him to a chamber very high up in the main Tower, a room so high that, if it had a window, one could probably see halfway to Shace. It took them nearly ten minutes to climb the stairs to get up that high. Tarrin always wondered why so few of the Sorcerers weren't overweight. After climbing up all those stairs, he knew exactly why. The Keeper's office wasn't even that high up. And yet, if he kept his bearings, they weren't even at the very top. The stairs still went up when the reached the proper floor. The chamber itself was featureless, built of gray stone, perfectly circular, and there was not a whit of furniture or carpet or decoration. Just a empty room. The only thing in it other than living things was a glow-globe, high up near the ceiling, a ceiling that had to be fifty spans high. Standing in the room were the seven members of the Council. The only ones that Tarrin could identify were Ahiriya and the Keeper, but all seven of them wore fine clothing and tried to have a very regal, wise look about them. The way they looked at him made him nervous.
"Very good. Thank you, Sevren," the Keeper said. "You may go."
Sevren bowed and took his leave of them, shutting the heavy, steel-reinforced door behind him.
"Stand in the center of the circle," the Keeper said in a calm voice. Tarrin did as he was told, moving into the middle of the room and standing in the middle of their loose formation. When the all took steps backwards, up against the walls, Tarrin started to get worried. They arranged themselves in a curious pattern where six of them stood at equal distances to one another, as the Keeper stood a bit farther behind their circle and between Ahiriya and a tall blond woman, as if she had no specific place in their order. They raised their hands, almost in perfect unison, and Tarrin felt that sensation of drawing in all around him. He was surrounded by it. They remained perfectly still for several moments, and Tarrin could sense something around them, around each of them. Each of them took on an aura, a visible halo of light of the colors of the spectrum. Ahiriya was surrounded by red, and the Keeper by green, and the others were surrounded by a distinct color. Orange, yellow, blue, indigo, and violet. The lights were ghostly, almost shimmering, as if his eyes had trouble focusing on them long enough, as they tried to hide from his eyes. Along with the auras, Tarrin could hear musical chords as if they were being played by phantom musicians, musical notes of no specific timbre, as if sung by women with no voices. It was not a sound he was hearing with his ears. Instead, it seemed to reverberate inside of him, conducting against his soul directly.
"What do you see?" the Keeper asked in a almost chanting, sing-song voice.
"Colors," he replied. "Each of you is covered in colored light."
"Each of us?" a slender, black-haired woman asked.
"Each of you," he affirmed.
"What color am I?" she asked.
"Light purple," he replied.
"Am I very bright?"
"Not any brighter than the others. Well, the Keeper's standing a little farther back than the rest of you, but she looks about the same," Tarrin replied, studying her and each of them in turn.
The woman's eyes seemed to widen. "What color is the Keeper?" she asked.
Tarrin turned to face her. "Green," he replied. "She's covered in green light."
That made the Keeper rock back on her heels. "Are you certain?" she asked quickly.
"Positive," he replied. "Red. Green. Blue. Yellow. Light purple. Darker purple. Orange," he recited, pointing at each of them in the circle. Then he squinted, studying them. "There's something connecting all of you together," he added as little fuzzy strings started to appear before his eyes. "Little ghost strings."
"And no one of us shines more brightly than the others?" a large, dark-skinned man asked.
"No," he said, putting a finger to his chin and studying each of them. "They all look the same to me."
"Even the Keeper?"
Tarrin looked at her. Now that they said something, she did seem a bit more distinct than the others. The color surrounding her wasn't quite as fuzzy, though she was no brighter than them. "She's not any brighter, but she is a bit, umm, well, a bit crisper," he struggled. "All of you are kind of fuzzy. She's not as fuzzy as everyone else. Maybe it's because she's standing farther away, I don't know."
"Goddess," one of them whispered, low enough so that only Tarrin would hear it.
The whispered word that escaped the Keeper's mouth caught his attention much more. She said only one thing, something that made no sense.
"Weavespinner!"
All the colors and the soundless chords suddenly vanished, leaving Tarrin's eyes a little dazzled. He blinked them several times and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. When he opened them again, he found the seven staring at him like he was a live snake. "The Test is concluded," the Keeper said in a voice that she was obviously trying to control. "You will speak not a word of what happened here this day, Tarrin. If you do, you will be punished in the most severe manner imaginable. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Keeper," he said in a calm voice. He already knew that speaking about the Test was forbidden.
"This day, you have demonstrated that you are one of the children of the Goddess. You are katzh-dashi. As per our laws, you will be taken into the Tower and given training in your gift. But before you are given that instruction, you will swear an oath. On one knee."
"What?" he said in sudden heat, heat that was totally feigned. He realized last night that if he didn't look surprised, they'd wonder if someone had secretly prepared him for this. "I won't bow my knee to anyone! Least of all you," he grated, giving the Keeper an unholy, murderous look.
"You have no choice," the Keeper shot back in a cold voice. "It is demanded of all who enter the Initiate. And we make no exceptions, not even for you."
"I'm not subjecting myself to anyone," Tarrin retorted.
"Tarrin," she said in an exasperated voice, "you're not doing anything that isn't demanded of everyone else. The Oath is a way for us to be sure you'll complete your training, because not many will break an oath without really thinking it over first."
"What is this oath?" he asked in a less hostile voice.
"To obey the will of the Goddess so long as you stay on the grounds, follow the commands of your instructors and superiors, and do your very best in your learning. That's all."
Tarrin rose up to his full height, putting a finger to his chin and pretending to consider her words. The nameless goddess was right. They made sure the oath talked about him obeying the Goddess. Not the Tower. That was just as she said it would be worded. Of course, what the Keeper didn't say was that she would, at some time in the future when he got rebellious, point out that as Keeper she spoke the will of the Goddess. Neat little trap there. But Tarrin knew that if this goddess wanted his obedience, she'd do the commanding herself.
"Only so long as I stay in the Initiate?" he pressed.
"Only so long as you stay in the Initiate," she affirmed.
"And if I decide I don't want to be a Sorcerer?"
"Then you go your own way," she shrugged.
Which means that I can un-enroll myself whenever I feel like it, he thought with a calm look at her, trying to hide a grin. "Alright, but if you trick me, I'll hand you your guts one handful at a time," he said in a dangerous voice.
"I would expect no less," she said in a slightly sickened voice. "Kneel."
He did so, reluctantly. "Do you swear that you will obey the will of our Goddess, She Who Goes Unnamed, patroness of the katzh-dashi and Goddess of the Weave?"
"I swear," he said after feigning a few seconds of indecision.
"Do you swear to do your utmost to pass the Initiate, to come to the end of the training and say that you gave it your all in good faith?"
"I swear," he said immediately.
"Do you swear to obey the commands of your instructors, and the laws of the Tower, so long you remain bound to the order?"
"For so long as I remain in the Initiate, I so swear," he said flatly, giving the Keeper a deadly look.
"That's not enough."
"That's all you'll get," he said with a steely tone, standing up. Towering over the diminutive Keeper, he looked down at her with a blunt expression of mule-headed stubbornness. "If I decide to stay as a katzh-dashi, we'll have to renegotiate. Until then, take what I've given you and be happy with it, because I won't go a step farther. It's more than I'd have given anyone else," he told her adamantly.
"You push it," she said with hot eyes.
"You forget what you're dealing with," he replied in a calm voice. "I'm not a human. My nature is contrary to tying myself down in one place, and giving someone else control over me goes against just about every instinct I have. Be lucky I went as far as I did."
"I think you forget your place," the Keeper said in her commanding tone.
"Then feel free to educate me," Tarrin said, casually popping his claws and giving them a cursory glance, letting the Keeper see just how long and sharp they were.
"Myriam," the dark-haired woman cut in. "Myriam, you forget-"
"I forget nothing," she snorted.
"Tarrin is right," the woman pressed. "If swearing oaths is against his nature, to force him into more than he is willing to give may upset the balance of his mind. You don't want him disappearing for three more months, do you?"
"No," she said.
"Take my word for it, Myriam," she said. "If he didn't want to be here, he would never have returned. I think we can trust him with what he has already given."
"Yes, yes, you are right," she said with a contrite smile. "I forget that he returned on his own."
"I have one more thing," Tarrin said.
"What?"
"I want Dolanna to teach me."
"We've already arranged that," she said. "Tarrin, no one person can teach you, but Dolanna will be involved in your education. She will be one of your instructors."
"Why more than one?"
"Because different katzh-dashi are better at different things," a tall, slender man wearing a blue robe said calmly. "Each instructor teaches a student what he or she excels at, so that the student is always trained by those who best know the subject at hand."
That made sense, so Tarrin only nodded and took a less hostile stance.
"You will have many teachers. Even some of us will instruct you," the blond woman said.
"Now stop asking silly questions," the Keeper grunted. "Go to your room and pack your things. The Mistress of Novices will arrange your move to the Initiate rooms. The Master of Initiates will be expecting you before noon."
"Yes, Keeper," Tarrin said quietly. He gave them all a very curt, cursory bow, then padded out of the room.
"Defiant," Koran Dar, the tall, willowy Amazon Seat of Divine Power, what some called the Seat of the Goddess, mused as the door closed.
"As stubborn as a rock," Amelyn, the dark-haired Seat of the Mind, grunted.
"But he is the one," Jinna, the blond Water Seat said quietly.
"He is a Weavespinner," the Keeper said almost reverently. "A Weavespinner!"
"Maybe there is hope for us after all," Darrian, the burly Earth Seat, said in his gravelly voice. "There's been no record of a Weavespinner since the Ancients left us."
"Remember, that's not a requirement," Nathander, the Seat of Air, said in a calm voice. "The ancient writings state that any of noble blood that is not human can do this task."
"He hardly looks noble," Ahiriya grunted.
"He's the son of a clan princess," the Keeper told her. "A prince. That qualifies. The Selani is the daughter of the chief, and her Royal Highness' pedigree leaves no question in the matter."
"Be that as it may, since we don't absolutely need him, we can always get rid of him if he gets out of control," Nathander said in a brutal tone. "One of the other two will suffice."
"But they don't have his power," the Keeper said. "That may be very important when the fur starts to fly."
"The dagger in your hand is better than the spear flying towards your back," Nathander said in his detached tone. "I don't relish the idea of taking a life needlessly, but we must always keep the greater good in mind. If he gets out of control, we may have to put him down. To protect the rest of us, if for any other reason. A madman with that kind of power running around could shatter what it took us two thousand years to build."
"I must agree," Amelyn said. "I can't affect his mind with any of my weaves, Keeper. If he goes mad, there won't be anything I can do to heal him."
"Then we'll have to be careful," she said, looking at the door. "That boy is our best chance. We just have to keep him sane long enough to do what he needs to do. After he's done, then we won't need him anymore," she said in a grim tone of finality.
Tarrin walked with Allia from the main Tower and towards the North Tower, the tower of Initiation. Both of them were packed, wearing Novice white but carrying no Novice uniforms with them. They were being led by a young Initiate wearing a red shirt. The fact that Allia was with him told him something, that they wanted to keep them together. They'd rushed her through two months of Novitiate in two days, then simply said she passed and told her to pack this morning. Probably not moments after he walked out of the Test himself. He wasn't sure what their game was, but he knew it had something to do with him, maybe with Allia. They wanted something, and they wanted Tarrin to give it to them. Or possibly both Tarrin and Allia, judging by the way they were kept together.
But that wasn't something he didn't already know, and it wasn't something that he was in a position to do anything about at the moment. He had no idea why they wanted him, what they wanted, or when they wanted it. He was totally in the dark, and without information, he had no way to plan a way to get him out of or around whatever this thing was that they wanted. The Goddess in the statue had said that, at this moment, half of the world's attention was placed right on his shoulders. No doubt this maneuvering in the Tower had something to do with the Goddess' proclamation. They knew that he was important. That had to be key to the reason that he was here.
The North tower, like all six of the surrounding towers, was much smaller than the main tower. About half the height. Several bridges ran from its red stone walls over to the main tower, some hundred spans or more in distance, and Tarrin wondered how the plain stone spans, with no support or bracing, managed to stay up. They didn't even have guardrails. The bridges were not for Novices. Tarrin had never set foot on one of them before. From what he knew of the Tower, most of the main tower was filled with the library, rooms for the katzh-dashi, and it was where most of the business of the order was conducted. The North Tower was for the Initiates and their training, and the South Tower was mainly for research. It was where the books not kept in the main library were stored, the books full of things that were potentially dangerous to people who had no idea what they were doing. Like nosy Novices. There was alot of traffic between the South Tower and the main spire, because many of the Sorcerers worked there to try to rediscover the secrets that had disappeared with the Ancients.
From the inside, though, Tarrin couldn't really tell the difference between the towers. They had the same gray stone walls, and were lit with glowglobes hovering near the ceiling. The Initiate led them through the main doors and down a corridor that led towards the center of the tower, then down one of the curving inner ring hallways. He took them up a flight of stairs, back into the intersecting hallway, and out to the outermost ring, the room with windows facing outwards. That was where the office of Brel was. A sign hung on a scrupulously scrubbed door with his name and his title. The young man, a tall Draconian from the look of him, with long dark hair and broad shoulders, knocked exactly three times and waited nervously. His two charges made the young man decidedly nervous. "Enter!" a voice called.
The young man opened the door. "Two new Initiates, Master Brel," the young man said. "The Mistress of Novices bid me bring them to you."
"Very good, Lem," he said in an irascable tone. "I'm coming out."
"Yes, Master Brel," he said, closing the door. "Nobody goes in there unless they're in trouble," he whispered to them.
Tarrin rolled his eyes, and Allia chuckled a bit.
Brel came out with a slamming of the door, ignoring the short bows given to him by the three in the hall. He was a small man, thin and very short, looking about ten years past his grave. He was sallow and emaciated, with thin little wisps of white hair clinging to a scalp pocked with liver spots. His face was sunken and weathered, but his brown eyes were very lucid and sharp. The man reminded him of Mother Wynn, the old woman he'd encountered on the flight away from Jesmind and to the Tower. His scent was sharp and acrid, and it was obvious from the smell of him that he didn't bathe as often as he should have. He wore a stained gray robe that had a couple of tears in it, belted at the waist. "First rule," he said in a snappish tone. "Nobody goes in my office, unless I let them in. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Master Brel," they said in unison.
"Thank you, Lem. You can return to your duties." The young man bowed and scurried away. "You're here because you've proven you can handle the power of Sorcery," he told them. "Things work here much the same as they did in the Novitiate, except you'll be spending alot more time in study and practice than you will doing errands and working chores. Come with me."
They followed him back to the staircase, up two floors, then back out to the outermost hallway that ringed the tower. "I run a very tight tower," he said in a waspish tone. "If you thought Mistress Elsa was bad, she's a kitten compared to me. I'm a firm believer that punishment wears the nonsense out of someone." They stopped in front of a door. "Each of you will have your own room," he said. "Two rooms share a common storage closet. This will be your room, Tarrin," he said, pointing at a door. Tarrin didn't even bother asking how he knew his name. No doubt Master Brel had received a three page report on his two unusual Initiates ten minutes after Tarrin walked out of the Keeper's office two days ago. "Consider yourself lucky. Most new Initiates don't get a room with a window."
"Is the room across from Tarrin's occupied?" Allia asked in her strong, silky voice.
"No, and it's Master Brel," he said sourly.
"Then I will take that one, Master Brel," she said.
He gave her a startled look. "By the Goddess, you will not!" he gasped. "The very idea is insane!"
"Why is that, Master Brel?" she asked cooly.
"You're a girl!" he shot back.
"And why does that matter?"
"It's improper!" he snapped. "What's to stop him from walking in on you undressed? And what's to stop him from letting a boy into your room, if he doesn't go in himself?"
"How narrow," she said with a sigh. "If I want a male, I will not ask Tarrin to smuggle him in. I will let him in myself," she said bluntly. Brel stared at her with his eyes about to jump out of his face. "I am not human, Master Brel. Do not assign your human moralities to me." She crossed her arms under her breasts. "As to him 'walking in', I assure you that there is nothing under my clothes that he has not already seen. As to him being my lover, please, be sensible. As much as I love him, it is as a sister loves a brother. I am not in the habit of sleeping with my brothers."
Brel made a few strangling noises.
"Perhaps I should let a boy into the room of a female roommate, should you not pair us together," she mused aloud. "Maybe the experience would take the steel out of her back."
"Now see here!" he raged suddenly. "I'll not have that kind of talk in my tower!"
"It's a losing cause, Brel," the Keeper's voice called from the hallway. "Just give them the rooms they want and be done with it. I assure you, nothing improper is going to happen between them." Tarrin and Allia bowed to her as she approached, and Brel nodded to her. "I have another Initiate for you. I need the largest room you have available. One with a window."
"I take it the Wikuni has arrived, Keeper?" he asked, regaining his composure.
She nodded. "Her convoy just arrived in the harbor. She'll probably show up here tomorrow. It should take her that long to decide what to wear," she grunted with a sigh.
"Wikuni?" Tarrin repeated. "A Wikuni here, Keeper?"
"Not just any Wikuni," she said. "One of their Princesses. We made a deal with the King to bring her here for education."
"Pardon my saying so, but you don't sound very enthusiastic."
She laughed ruefully. "I guess I'm not. This Princess has a, reputation. I have no doubt she'll be as inconvenient as possible."
"Ah," he said. "One of those."
She nodded. "I can feel the gray hairs coming already."
Tarrin chuckled. "Patience, Keeper," he said with a grin.
"I'll keep that in mind. Go ahead and take care of the young ones, Brel. I'll wait in your office."
"No, Keeper, I won't keep you waiting. Go make yourselves at home," he told them. "Feel free to rearrange the furniture if you feel like it, but keep everything clean. The kitchens are in the main tower. I'm sure you already know where they are. Go get some breakfast, and I'll have someone show you around after you get something to eat."
"Thank you, Master Brel," Tarrin said. "I was getting a little hungry."
He gave Allia a short, hostile look, then walked away with the Keeper by his side. "I have a room on the fifth level, Keeper, one of the largest. It has a nice view of the gardens," he was saying as they walked away.
Tarrin looked at Allia, and they both shrugged. "Another?" Tarrin asked.
"I guess so," she replied in Selani. "I'm starting to think that they're collecting Non-humans."
"You may not be far off the mark," he replied as he opened the door.
"If they're putting this Wikuni in the Initiate, then she must be capable of doing Sorcery," she speculated.
"I was thinking the same thing. They're not collecting Non-humans, they're collecting Non-humans that can do Sorcery."
"I think that's about right. Have you seen your parents yet?" Allia asked as the glowglobe inside the room brightened in response to the opening door.
"Not yet," he replied. The room was the same size as the room that he and Dar had shared, but it was only for one person. The room had a larger bed, with a large chest at the foot of it much as his old room had been. The room had more furniture, though. A large writing table was against the left wall with a chair resting in front of it, and a bookcase stood beside a washstand on the right wall. A key, the key to the room, was sitting on the top of the bookcase. There were two tables flanking the bed, two small nightstands, one of which held a lantern, the other a candle and candletray. Tarrin wondered what the lantern and candle was for with the glowglobe hanging in the air. What amazed him most was the carpet on the floor. It was a large carpet, dyed a solid blue with gold threading in geometric patterns along the outside edge. From the feel of it under his toes, it was old, but well maintained. The room had two windows as well, just on the outsides of each nightstand, small windows that a child would have trouble trying to squeeze through.
Compared to the Novice rooms, this was luxurious.
"I wonder if mine is this nice," Allia mused. There was a door between the washstand and bookcase on the right wall, the door leading to the central storeroom which this room and the next one over shared.
Tarrin leaned his staff in the corner and set his two packs down on top of the chest. "I'd hope so. Those windows may be a problem."
"Why?"
"Jesmind."
"Ah. I'm sure that you can figure out a way to defend them. And they let you out as easily as they let her in."
"Can't argue with that," he agreed as they opened the door to the storeroom.
It was large for a closet, with shelves lining the walls between the two doors. Two large chests sat against each wall, each chest flanked by two smaller ones, the same style and size chests as the one at the foot of his bed. A pole ran under the high shelf on each side of the closet, and several curious metal and wood hangars hung on them. Tarrin had seen hangars before, but only in the inn back at Aldreth. They were a relatively new innovation, from Shace. They'd been making wardrobes with hanging poles in them. They were primarily for dresses, to hang them to air them out and keep them from wrinkling.
"They certainly give us plenty of room," Tarrin noticed.
"I guess they think that we'll be living here for years," she replied as they opened the far door.
Allia's room looked so much like Tarrin's that he wondered for a moment if they hadn't gotten switched around in the closet. There was one difference, however. Allia's carpet was a darker shade of blue, and had a solid brown border instead of a geometric pattern border. "I'd say that it is," Tarrin noted calmly.
"Truly," she agreed. "It's quite nice." She put her packs on the floor and sat down on the bed tentatively, pressing down on it with her hands. "This one is almost as soft as the sleeping pillows I have back home," she said. "And I'm rather glad that I'll have you only a call away."
"It's going to be strange sleeping without Dar in the room," he grunted.
"He should be in the Initiate by the end of the month," she said. "You won't be separated long."
"How do you know?"
"Well, I've talked with him a few times since you were gone," she told him. "Nothing long. Just seeing if he'd heard anything about you."
Tarrin chuckled. "And you didn't kill him?"
"No," she said frostily, crossing her arms and taking a very imperial pose. "I'm not quite as bloodthirsty as that, thank you."
Tarrin laughed. "I think Dar appreciates your restraint."
She gave him an unflattering look. "Let's go get something to eat," she said. "I'm hungry."
"Me too," he agreed.
"I wonder when they'll give us the new clothes," she mused as they went out her door.
They already knew how things worked for Initiates in the main tower, from seeing them move around. Unlike Novices, who ate in the hall at definite times, an Initiate was allowed to take whatever food they wanted from the kitchen at any time, and they had their own special dining room, or they could take their food and eat it anywhere they wanted. That was because an Initiate's classes were not nearly as structured as a Novices, and the Initiate may spend two weeks taking a class at dawn, then move to an afternoon instruction, and so on. An Initiate's training was dependent more on the availability of an instructor than anything else, so the Initiate had to be able to receive instruction whenever it was available. Initiates also had more freedom than Novices. Once they were raised to the Blue, they were allowed off the Tower grounds, but had to remain within the city.
After invading the kitchens and fixing plates of breakfast, they took them out to thedining room and enjoyed a quiet meal. There were four other Initiates there, two wearing green, one red, and another light purple. It looked like the one wearing purple wanted to challenge the two, who were still wearing Novice white, about eating in the dining room reserved for Initiates. But the young woman seemed a bit intimidated by the two Non-humans.
"I wonder if they forgot about us," Tarrin chuckled as they finished. "I mean, with this princess coming in, I think the Keeper kind of messed up Master Brel's taking care of us."
"I don't really care if they remember or not," she replied in Selani. "Just so long as they remember to give us Initiate red."
"I guess so."
"I don't really mind it. It's refreshing not having everyone stare at me and go out of their way."
"No doubt," he agreed. "Maybe this Wikuni will give everyone something else to look at for a while."
"Why are you talking?" she challenged with a grin. "You've only been back two days. I'm the one that had to deal with it for two months."
"Who do you think was dealing with it before I left?" he retorted.
"Point taken, deshida," she said with a smile.
"I'm so glad, deshaida," he said in a neutral tone.
After eating, they walked back over to the North Tower, then they went to their rooms and unpacked. There was more room than Tarrin knew what to do with, but the fact that he wouldn't be keeping his Novice clothing gave him even more room. The room was on the third floor, so Tarrin spent some time looking out the windows, elbows on the windowsill. The room faced out into the gardens, and the riot of color and the smells drifting in from the window reminded him of the outside world, stirring the Cat inside him.
There was a knock at the door. "Yes?" Tarrin called.
A young man in a yellow shirt entered, holding a bundle of red shirts. "I was to drop these off to you," he said. "And pick up your Novice white."
Tarrin gave him a curious look. His eyes were a bit wild, and from the smell of him, he'd received a bit of a shock. "What's the matter?" he asked as he motioned him to come in and grabbed the hem of his shirt.
"That Selani," he said nervously, in a low voice. "I dropped off her shirts, and she took off the one she was wearing right in front of me!"
"She's like that," he chuckled, pulling off his own and folding it quickly and neatly in his paws. "You get used to it." He put on one of the new shirts, seeing that it fit well enough, then handed the young dark-haired Initiate his stack of white shirts.
"Thank you," he said, taking them. "I was supposed to tell you to be at Master Brel's office door at sunrise tomorrow," he instructed. "He said that you have the rest of today to settle in."
"Alright," he said. That was fine with him, for he wanted to see his parents.
That took a while. The only one that knew where they lived was the Keeper, and she was busy with the preparations to receive the Wikuni. By lunchtime, he finally tracked her down in her office. "Keeper, I have a favor to ask," he said as Duncan let him inside.
"Why bring it to me?" she asked. "I'm busy."
"Nobody else knows where my parents live," he said.
"Oh, my," she groaned. "Tarrin, I am so sorry. In all this chaos, I totally forgot to send that message. I meant to do it yesterday, but I got word that the Wikuni was coming in not long after you left my office."
"That's alright, Keeper," he said with sincere compassion. "I knew you were busy, and I don't think they could have seen me yesterday anyway."
"Yes, well, that doesn't excuse me," she said in a stern tone, full of self-incrimination. "I'll send the message right now. I'll have them come to your room."
Tarrin returned to his room to wait, and to dread and think about their arriving. So much had happened over the two months, so much time for them to think about the entire event. He honestly had no idea how they reacted to it, or how the time to think about it may have changed that original perception. His own memories of that fateful night were fuzzy, hazy, indistinct. He only knew the generalities of it. But in a way, that was bad enough. Knowing that he almost killed his own mother still sent a rush of hot shame through him when he pondered it, but the time with Janette had managed to partially heal that festering wound on his soul. All that he had left was to find out what his parents and sister thought about him now. Whether they would embrace him or spurn him. Either way, he felt that he could handle it. Losing his family would destroy him, but he would face up to it like a man. Like a Kael.
They arrived about two hours later, opening the door to his room without knocking as he paced nervously. Elke Kael rushed in with a cry and buried her son in a fierce hug, barely giving him time to turn around. Tarrin struggled to breathe as his father and sister crowded in on him. Elke then pushed him out at arm's length and gave him a dark scowl. "Don't ever do that again!" she shouted at him, then hugged him again.
Tarrin felt relief beyond measure. That one line told him that she wasn't holding a grudge. "I was afraid you'd be mad at me," he said, returning her embrace.
"I am mad, but not for that reason," she huffed. "I'm mad at you for staying away so long."
"I needed time," he told her as he took his father's hand, then hugged Jenna warmly.
"You don't look that bad," his father noted with a smile. "Just a bit worried."
"You wait two hours and see how good you feel," he replied.
"And how do you feel?" Eron asked.
"I'll never be the same," he said with sober eyes. "Never. But I guess it was something that had to happen."
Tarrin sat on the bed with Jenna in his lap. Elke sat beside him, and Eron sat in the chair by the desk. "Where were you all that time?" Jenna asked. "We looked and looked for you. The Sorcerers even used magic to try to find you, but they couldn't."
"I, don't have much memory of it," he said haltingly. "I lost so much time. In my other shape, time doesn't mean the same thing as it does when I'm like this."
"But where did you go?" she pressed.
"I was picked up by a little girl," he told her. "She adopted me as a pet."
Jenna giggled. "That must have been funny. I don't think you'd make a very good pet."
"On the contrary," Eron said with keen eyes. "I think I understand what he was saying. He probably had her very nicely fooled."
Tarrin nodded. "I couldn't even remember how to change shape," he told him. "I'd all but given up, and when I did that, I let the Cat take control of me. You see, the Cat doesn't have much use for human memories, so it simply buried them. And the Cat doesn't register the passage of time. There's no past, no future, for a cat. There's only now. And without memory of the past, or knowledge of the future, the now would be everything. And in that now, there was only the Cat. If she hadn't found me when she did, I'd probably still be wandering around as a cat, with no memory of who or what I was." He bowed his head for a moment. "By now, I'd be a cat."
"Two days would make that much difference?" Elke asked.
"It wasn't the time," he told his mother. "It was her. It was like being a child all over again, mother. She cared for me. She honestly did her best to spoil me," he chuckled. "Since I was more or less being coddled, and she wouldn't let me get depressed, I had time to think about everything. Well, what was left of me had time to think. She was so good to me that it made the Cat totally content, and the combination let me find some measure of peace inside myself. I had no worries, no cares. It was like a vacation from myself."
"I think I can understand that," Eron said. "And after finding some peace, you started getting your human awareness back."
Tarrin nodded. "It didn't happen very fast, but it did happen," he said. "I still don't entirely trust myself, but the time was good for me. I understand my instincts much better now that I've lived with them controlling me for two months. I think that I'll never be able to totally control them," he sighed, "because Jesmind seems to have the same problem, and she was born with them. But there's hope."
Elke smiled and patted his shoulder. "I'm just glad to see you well, Tarrin," she said to him with a warm look in her eyes.
"I'm glad I wasn't disowned," he chuckled, patting her hand warmly.
"Never that, son," Eron told him. "Never that."
"Have you had any trouble, from Jesmind?" he asked.
"No, we haven't seen her," he replied.
"Does she know where you live?"
"I doubt it," Elke told him. "The only one who knows where we live are the Sorcerers, and I doubt they told her."
"She's sneaky, mother," he said. "She can follow you easily."
"She'd have no reason to with you out in the city," Eron pointed out. "Remember, you were the reason she was here. Without you, her need to be here disappeared. Where is she now?"
"I have no idea, but she's probably pretty close," he said. "She knows I'm here. She's the one that found me, sort of."
"Sort of?"
"I was trying to get back into the Tower without being seen," he replied. "She caught me just outside the fence."
"Is she still after you?"
Tarrin nodded. "I doubt I ever will get rid of her," he said. "But that's a problem for another day." He settled Jenna a bit on his lap. Despite the fact that she was nearly fourteen, she fit onto his lap like a young child. "Tell me what's been going on."
And so Tarrin was caught up with the goings on of the Kael family. Jenna had been learning Sorcery from the Tower, as a Sorcerer came out each day to their house to give her instruction. She found it to be incredibly fascinating, and he had the feeling that Jenna had found her calling in life. His father had started making arrows and bows again, doing his work out of his new house in the city and having suitable materials brought in from the forests. He made quite a bit of money. He was already looking to set up his brewing equipment again, and having supplies brought in from Aldreth so he could start brewing ale. His mother had found something close to happiness at Suld, with a new home that was much larger, new friends, and a blossoming business baking pies and pastries and selling them to an inn down the street from her house. Tarrin's grandfather, Anrak Whiteaxe, had visited twice while he was gone. Elke had chanced to see her father's ship in harbor, and managed to track him down. Then he had visited again only last ten-day. He was very happy about his little girl living in a port city, especially one that he visited so often. They also told him about their visits to the Tower, trying to get information, and about their taking in of Allia. Allia wasn't just Tarrin's friend anymore, she was an adoptive daughter to the family. All of them adored the dark-skinned Selani, and she seemed to genuinely be fond of her deshida's kin. Jenna, who shared Tarrin's knack at learning new languages, had been learning Selani from Allia. And surprisingly, Elke told him that Allia had been picking up some Ungaardt from her.
Tarrin laughed as Eron described Anrak's reaction when he met Allia. Anrak had been a bit intimidated by the Selani. "I'm not surprised," he said. "Allia has that effect on people."
"Whatever happened to that young man you were rooming with?" Elke asked.
"Dar? He's still in the Novitiate," he replied. "He has only a couple of classes left, then he moves to the Initiate." Tarrin had been glancing at Jenna, and saw her flush slightly. By analyzing her scent, he noticed that the mention of his voice had unsettled her somewhat. Then he chuckled. Her first object of affection. "I'll be glad to have him close again. We're good friends, and I don't think I've met a braver man. After all that happened around me, he stubbornly stayed on as my roommate. Even when he was given the chance to move."
"I'd say that's commendable," Eron said with a slight smile. "We need to meet him."
"We will," Elke said. "Now that Tarrin's back, we can visit."
"Actually, I think they'll make those few and far between," Tarrin said. "I don't think they let the Novices and Initiates spend too much time with their families."
"Probably not," Eron said. "That distracts the student."
"Official visits, anyway," Tarrin grinned. "I can just about come and go as I please, whether they want me to or not. Tell me where the house is."
"Not far," Elke told him. "Just go out the main gate, go down five streets, then turn right where you see the sign for the Happy Harpy Inn. We're the fourth house on the left."
"We wanted a house as close to the Tower as we could," Eron told him. "You wouldn't believe how expensive houses are in this neighborhood."
"I can imagine," he said.
"When do you start learning Sorcery?" Jenna asked him.
"Tomorrow, I'd imagine," he replied. "They don't waste time around here."
"You'll like it, Tarrin," she told him with serious eyes.
"I hope so. If not, I'll be terribly bored."
She slapped his knee, and he retaliated by ghosting his tail over her face, making her sneeze. "I hate to cut things short, Tarrin, but I have some errands to run," Elke told him apologetically. "I don't want you to think I'm just showing up and leaving you."
"No, that's alright, mother," he said. "I didn't expect you to be spending all day with me. But we do need to take a walk through the garden before you leave."
She caught his serious look, then nodded. "Then let's go take a walk."
Outside, they spent some time chatting idly, working their way deeper and deeper into the garden. They meandered into an area where there weren't any other garden visitors within earshot, and Tarrin looked around quickly. "Jenna, I want you to do me a favor," he told his sister.
"What?"
"Go over there for a while," he said, pointing. "I need to talk to mother and father for a few minutes."
"What, you don't trust me?" she challenged.
"Jenna, as much as I love you, there's nothing that you can do to help me with this," he told her. "Mother and father can tell you when you get home, and we don't have much time, so I don't want to have to explain things. They already know a bit about what we're going to talk about."
"Go on, sweetie," Elke shooed her off. "We won't be long."
"Alright," she sulked, stamping away in a huff.
"What is it, son?" Eron asked.
"They want something from me, father," he said.
"More than just teaching you?"
He nodded. "I can tell by looking at them. It's in their scents. The problem is, I don't know what it is they want. I've thought about it, and for the life of me, I can't figure out what it is."
"Are you so sure?" Elke asked.
"Mother, while I was, away, I found out that they were sending Sorcerers door to door looking for me," he told her.
"I don't see anything wrong with that," she said.
"Of course not. You're my mother," he told her. "Think of it like this. The Tower would send Sorcerers to hunt down a runaway Novice?"
"Tarrin, you said yourself that you weren't rational," Eron said. "They could have been trying to find you before you hurt someone."
"Father, my sense of time is very fuzzy, but I know that the Sorcerer that showed up where I was hiding was there a long time after I ran away from the Tower," he said. "It was well after the wife-well, nevermind that. It was a long time. They had no business looking for me door to door after that much time unless they were desperate to find me."
"Tarrin dear, we were desperate to find you," Elke said.
"Mother, you were. The Tower has different reasons," he replied. "After that much time, they knew I wasn't rampaging, else they'd have found me long before then. They knew I was still alive too, else they wouldn't bother to look in the first place. And despite me being gone for so long, they still kept looking. They even used magic to force Jesmind to find me."
"I think I'm starting to understand," Eron said. "By looking for him so hard, for so long, they tipped their hand," he told his wife. "They had no reason to keep up the search that long unless there was gain in it for them. The only gain that I can see was that they find Tarrin."
"I don't see anything wrong with it," she declared firmly.
Tarrin struggled for a moment. He knew because the Goddess in the statue had told him, more or less right out, that he was a very important person, and that had to be the reason the Tower was so serious about finding him. He didn't want to tell his parents about that-it seemed a bit too personal-so he cast out for a different way to phrase it so that his mother would understand the point he was trying to make. "Think of it like this," Tarrin said. "You know that serving pitcher grandfather gave you?" She nodded. "I know how much you love it. Now, would you hire someone to search for that pitcher for two months? Remember, you're paying for this man to search for it."
"No!" she said.
"That's what the Tower did to try to find me," he told her.
"I-oh. I get it," she agreed. "So you think you weren't worth that much effort."
"From you, yes, I was," he grinned. "From the Tower, no. I'm just one of the masses here, nobody special. The only thing that makes me different is this," he said, holding out his paws. "And there's more going on here than just this. Did you know they specifically arranged to have Allia come to the Tower?"
"Yes, she told us that story."
"Well, they've brought another Non-human here. A Wikuni princess."
"So?"
"So, I heard long ago that they're the first Non-humans, well, we, are the first to be here since the Ancients walked the grounds," he told her. "And now they bring in two of them, and get me by accident."
"What difference does that make?" Eron asked.
"Maybe none, but it's, odd," he replied. "I may be getting paranoid, but it's almost like they're collecting Non-humans that can use Sorcery. I may not have been part of their plans to begin with, but I certainly seem to be so now. After I left, they started giving Allia a lot of attention."
"Yes, she told us," Elke said.
"I was getting that attention before I, left," he said. "At first, I thought it was because someone was trying to kill me, and not just Jesmind. Now, maybe I'm not so sure," he said. "You weren't here for it, but I was attacked several times here on the Tower grounds. Once by Jesmind, and a few times by outsiders. Now that I think back on it, every time but one that I was attacked, Allia was there. They may have been attacking both of us, and not just me." He rubbed his chin with a furred forefinger. The Goddess in the statue didn't say anything about Allia, but that didn't mean that she didn't matter. There was a good chance that she was just as important, because of who and what she was. "Hmm. Perhaps they were attacking both of us, because we're Non-humans that can do Sorcery. It's the only thing that makes us different from every other Novice and Initiate."
"The question is why," Eron said calmly.
"That is the question," Tarrin agreed. "Until I can figure out what's going on, all my thoughts are just dust in the wind. The Tower wants to keep their hands on us, and someone else wants to kill us, and I want to know why. And I mean to find out. I wanted to warn you about this, and warn you that you may hear some bad things about me from the Tower in the next month or so," he said.
"Why?"
"Because I'm going to find out what's going on," he said adamantly. "I have no doubt that I'll have to break all sorts of rules to do it. And I may get caught a few times. So long as they don't realize what I'm doing, I don't care if they catch me or not."
They were quiet a few moments. "Anything we can do to help?" Eron asked.
Tarrin smiled at his father. "Not really," he said. "This will be an inside job."
"Just be careful," Elke said. "You don't want to get into too much trouble."
"Why?" he said. "If I'm right, I could kill someone on the front steps, and they'd just slap my wrist and put me back in class. If I don't miss the mark, I'm too important to misuse. They don't want me vanishing again."
"Don't push it too far, son," Eron warned.
"I don't intend to, father," he said. "The Cat is a very subtle creature. I have no doubt he'll help me sneak around and find what I need to find without raising too much of a ruckus. He's good at that."
"Just be careful, my son," Elke said, putting her hand on his shoulder. "We just got you back. I don't want to lose you again."
He gave her a short hug. "You won't," he told her. "I'll be careful, I promise."
He didn't really want to say goodbye, but he had to let them go. They were his family, but they didn't need to be any part of what was soon going to happen.
Tarrin was going to find out what was going on, even if he had to peel the Keeper out of her skin strip by strip to get the answer. He didn't like being manipulated, and he wasn't about to play someone else's game without knowing the rules. His advantage was that they really had no idea that he suspected something was going on. Oh, yes, they knew that he knew that someone out there was trying to kill him, some Wizard named Kravon. But they knew he didn't know why. They could give him any explanation that pleased them, and they felt that he would take it at face value. But it wasn't that easy.
The Cat was subtle, but it was also very suspicious. He had his suspicions about the Tower now, and he wouldn't trust them until he could lay those suspicions aside.
Having a goal is one thing.
Figuring out how to reach it is another.
Tarrin returned to his room and slept away some of the afternoon, catching up on sleep lost the night before, and as he slept, and sprawled on his bed in cat form, he thought about what was going on and what he'd have to do. The main problem was that he had no idea where to go to get the information he needed, not without making it obvious that he was up to something. For some reason, he was pretty sure that letting the Keeper know he was nosing around about those things would get him in trouble. Maybe even put him in danger. He knew that, since he was important to the Sorcerers, they'd give him a bit of breathing space, he didn't want to push that advantage.
Everything more or less hinged on the Keeper. He was positive that she knew what was going on. He knew that she knew who was trying to kill him-more to the point, she understood just who this Kravon fellow was. So, the problem was that the Keeper had information that he wanted. He had to get that information, but he had to do it in such a way that she wasn't aware of him getting it.
And that wasn't going to be easy. Tarrin didn't really like the Keeper, but he respected her. She was a capable ruler, and she was by no means stupid or careless. That kind of information was bound to be very sensitive, so it wasn't just going to be laying around. If it existed anywhere but in the Keeper's mind in the first place.
The first step, he guessed, would be the Keeper's office. It was where she was bound to keep her official business. There, and in the possession of Duncan, her secretary. And to a lesser degree, he realized, the official offices of the other members of the Council. From the way they all looked at him, he had little doubt that they knew a great deal about what was going on. To a lesser extent, their personal quarters were also places of interest to him. There could be information he needed in one of their rooms. So he needed to find out where the Keeper and the Council members lived. And also Duncan. When it came to information in the Tower, nobody probably knew more than Duncan, so that man could never be ruled out.
He realized quickly that he didn't have to ransack the Keeper's office. Tiella's job as a Novice was to clean it. She was already inside. He needed to talk to her. Tiella was a friend, and would probably help him out, so long as the risk to herself was minimal. She was a friend, but she wasn't stupid, and Tarrin wouldn't put her in danger for his own sake to begin with.
Another thing he needed to do was start talking to the other Sorcerers. He knew a few of them, such as Dolanna, Sevren, and Jula, but he needed to get on friendly terms with a few more. Sorcerers were more open with Initiates. He hoped that there were some rumors or gossip about Tarrin floating around between the members of the order, and if was lucky, he could pick some of that up. Dolanna would be his best bet there. If he could get her to start nosing around on her own, using her own sources, talking to her own friends, there was a good chance she could pick up some information that he could use. Dolanna was probably the only Sorcerer in the Tower that he really trusted.
His reverie was disrupted by a sudden high-pitched screeching sound. For a second, Tarrin thought it was some kind of animal caught in a trap. Then he heard it again, and realized that it was a voice screaming the word "no". It was relatively faint, as if it was coming from a goodly distance off.
Curious, Tarrin jumped down off the bed and changed form, then went out into the hall. To his surprise, a few other Initiates were drawn out as well, curious as to the animal making that sound. But their ears weren't quite as sharp as Tarrin's, which could pick out the words.
The screaming continued, changing timbre and cadence, going from long drawn-out bellows to chittering shrieks, and Tarrin followed it up three flights of stairs and down a hallway. It kept getting louder and louder, until the higher ululations made Tarrin's ears ring painfully. He came around a corner and found the Keeper standing face to face with a figure that had her back to Tarrin. She was wearing a dress, and what stood out about her was the long, very bushy tail that sprouted from the back of her dress. It was long and thick and very bushy, with reddish fur that was crowned with a white band between the red fur and a black tip. It was a fox's tail, a tail that was on a rather slender young woman with long red hair. A young woman with black-tufted fox ears poking out from her red hair.
She was Wikuni, one of the animal-people from across the sea. They all looked different, the Wikuni, two-legged beings that resembled common animals. This one resembed a fox, obviously, from the ears and tail.
She was wearing a cream colored gown that went well with her red fur and hair. Tarrin could only see the back of it, but he could see even from that angle that it was silk, it was slashed with red goring, and it had a brocaded bodice that sewed into the silk at her sides. A belt of beaten gold was around a very slender waist. She was a bit taller than an average human woman, about half a head taller than the diminutive Keeper, but she was slender and had very attractive feminine curves. A foot appeared under the hem of her dress, a dainty furred foot in a cream colored slipper. That foot stamped down, and her hands went to her hips as she shouted at the Keeper. "Unacceptable!" she shouted. "This room isn't fit enough for my pet cockatiel! I want an apartment, with piped water, and a balcony overlooking the gardens! I'll not live in this, this dungeon cell! I won't!" she shrieked, and it hurt Tarrin's ears.
For such a little thing, she was certainly loud.
"Highness, your father sent you here to receive education," the Keeper said in a cordial tone. "You're in the Initiate now, and this is where Initiates live."
"I am Keritanima-Chan Eram, Jewel of the Western Star, Lady of the 20 Seas, Bearer of the 5 Bands of Nan, Holder of the Ring of Bakul, Crown Princess of Wikuna! I will not be treated like a peasant! Do you understand me?" she finished with a ear-splitting scream that about pierced Tarrin's eardrums. Tarrin's paws went up to his ears, and he bowed a bit and winced.
"You think you can lower it to something less loud? Like a thunderstrike?" he asked acidly.
The Keeper's eyes darted up in surprise, and the Wikuni whirled around. Her face was a cross between a human face and a fox's, with human shaped amber colored eyes over a short, boxy muzzle. Her cheekbones merged with the sides of that muzzle to give her the pattern sharp fox-like face. A button nose was at the end of that muzzle and her maw hung open in astonishment. Tarrin noticed the teeth. Despite being a hybrid of human and animal, her mouth was all fox. She had the jaws and the teeth, and for a moment, he wondered how she spoke. The ability to speak the human language depended a great deal on the shape of the human mouth. He was totally incapable of speaking any man-language while in cat shape, because his cat maw and muzzle were incompatible with those sounds.
"Highness, this is Tarrin Kael," the Keeper said. "One of the other Non-human students I mentioned."
"How dare you speak to me so, you, you, whatever you are!" she snapped at him. He watched her mouth closely as she spoke. She had different lips than what would have been on a fox's muzzle, stronger and as prehensile as human lips, which sealed the sides of the mouth and allowed her to direct the sound in the proper manner. Interesting. They were by no means human lips, but they were not animal lips either. "I am Princess Keritanima, and you will address me so!"
Tarrin approached them, looking down the considerable distances between their heights. She came up to his chin. She stared up at him coldly, but he could see the very faint amusement in her eyes. This close to her, he got a good sample of her scent. It was not human, nor was it fox. It wasn't even a mixture of the two. It was a scent uniquely individual, not what he would have expected from the looks of her. If he hadn't scented her, he'd never have identified her scent if he encountered it in the hallways. "Highness, Tarrin is the son of a king's daughter," the Keeper said bluntly. "He is as much a prince as you are a princess. And if you look, you'll see he is wearing the Initiate uniform. I myself am a Duchess. So you see, we're not quite as impressed with your title and rank as you are. Your father sent you here so we could educate you, and we intend to do just that. That means that you will live where we tell you. You will eat with the other Initiates, you will attend classes with the other Initiates, and you will live like the other Initiates. That means that everyone except the one maid we agreed to goes back to your ship. So do the clothes, the jewelry, and the furniture."
"NO!" she shouted. "They are mine, and I'm bringing them!"
"They may be yours, but this is my Tower," the Keeper retorted angrily. "Your father gave custody of you to me, and that means that you do as I say. And unlike your father, I'll make you do what I tell you to do."
"You will not!" she snapped in a loud voice.
Without another word, the Keeper began rolling up her sleeves. "I may be a Duchess, but I was born to a woodcutter and a seamstress," she told the Wikuni in a deadly voice. "And I have never seen in my life a girl in more dire need of being spanked than you."
"You wouldn't dare!" the Wikuni screamed, then she turned and ran into the open door beside them. She closed it, and the sound of the bolt being thrown from the inside was loud and clear.
The Keeper drew herself up, and Tarrin could feel her starting to draw in. "Keeper, please," he said quickly, cutting her off, "allow me."
"By all means," she said with a courteous bow, motioning to the door with both hands.
"How would you like it?"
"Direct, but please go easy on the local geography," she replied. "We do have to fix what you break."
"I can handle that, ma'am," Tarrin said as he stepped up to the door. It was just like the one to his own room. That meant that he knew exactly where the latch was in respect to the door's wood. Balling up a fist, he reared back and punched the door precisely, driving his paw through the solid wood. The Wikuni screamed in fear when Tarrin's paw exploded through the door, and he heard her stumble back and fall down against what sounded like a chair. Unballing his fist, he reached down deftly and grabbed the latch, then lifted it. Then he removed his hand from the door and pushed it open.
The Wikuni was sitting unceremoniously on the floor, an overturned chair laying beside her, and a look of abject terror was in her eyes as the door swung open. Tarrin made a grand sweep of his paw, motioning to the Keeper that the way for her was clear. "Thank you, Tarrin," she said in a crisp, businesslike voice.
"Any time, Keeper," he replied grandly.
"Now if you'll excuse us, I do believe that her Royal Highness would prefer to have her bare backside blistered without an audience." The Keeper marched into the room like a general about to do war.
"Yes ma'am," Tarrin said, closing the door.
The sound that Keritanima-Chan Eram, Jewel of some star, Lady of some sea somewhere, and so on and so on, made after a few seconds was just as loud and high pitched as they were before, but now they were howls of pain and outrage that proceeded a sharp sound of a hand against a fur-clad backside. Tarrin found that this time he found the loud caterwauling to be somewhat pleasant to his ears.
Now that he could hear himself think again, he returned to his room and changed form, then laid back down on the bed.
Tarrin considered what would happen after he got the information, and decided on a course of action. One thing was plain. The Tower would not let him just walk out. He would have to sneak out or flee, one or the other. The fact that they didn't find him the first time was very comforting to him, but he knew that they knew that they couldn't find him. He needed to plan things so that, if he did flee, he would act as if they could track him down. That meant that he needed somewhere to go. He was a Were-cat, and his home was the trackless expanses of forest that humans called the Frontier. He was pretty sure that, if he could make it there, he could simply vanish. The Sorcerers would have to be desperate to send people in after him.
That was if he left. He considered also the possibility that he would stay. He wasn't sure how learning whatever these secrets were would affect his position in the Tower, but if he stayed, he had no doubt that things would be much different for him.
Another thing to consider were the ones he left behind. Allia would not be in a good position if he fled the tower. There was every possibility that Allia's position here had nothing to do with him or this information. Then again, considering the increase in attention she received after Tarrin ran away, he wasn't so sure about that. And there was every possibility that this Wikuni would also have a stake in whatever it was that was going on. She was the last of their very unique three, a Non-human that had the ability to use Sorcery. If that indeed was the reason they were in the Tower, Tarrin's removal from the playing field made them much more important.
He'd have to think about that more, but that was something that he'd have to think about after he got a better idea of what it was he was trying to do. He was trying to walk a maze with a blindfold on as it was, and making only the crudest of plans based on information he had yet to acquire. But it was a start, and it made him feel better knowing that he was preparing for the future.
In the interim, there was one thing that he could do that really didn't require anything, something that he needed to do no matter what happened. Learn. He had to learn as much about Sorcery as he could, as fast as he could. If he fled the Tower again, his power in Sorcery would help him get away. If he stayed, that power was leverage to use against the other Sorcerers. No matter what road he travelled, the ability to use Sorcery loomed large on each of them.
Tarrin already knew that he was powerful. From what the Sorcerers said, what he saw in them, the little hints, and Dolanna's discussions, he knew he was very, very strong. Probably stronger than three average Sorcerers put together. That power was his leverage, and that was what he had to concentrate on for the time being. It did him no good if he couldn't use any of it. And, not forgetting any of the points here, he knew that knowing Sorcery would be a big help the next time this mysterious Kravon decided to send someone to try to kill him. True, he was hard to kill. True, his Were-cat nature made it that much harder. But this Kravon knew what he was, and he knew how to kill him. And he was sneaky, and he had his own magic at his disposal. The invisible Trolls and the Wraith were more than enough evidence of that. Tarrin had been lucky, very lucky, more than once, and that luck had saved his life. But there was going to be a point where he was going to run out of luck. If that happened, then he would need to fall back on something a bit more dependable than wild luck. And Sorcery seemed quite an effective crutch.
It was quite a bit to think about. Tarrin yawned and stretched, then snuggled down a bit more into the bedspread and brought his tail around to wrap around his body. Maybe too much for a simple farm boy who was just trying to stay sane. All this thinking and planning and plotting wasn't what he had in mind when he left home. It wasn't in his nature-well, his old human nature. The Cat was a methodical creature, so it didn't mind the planning and plotting all that much.
One of the two doors opened, but Tarrin didn't respond. The scent coming into the room was Allia's coppery scent, and that meant that there was no danger. "Tarrin," she called. He heard the door close, and then felt the bed shift as she sat down upon it. He opened his eyes and looked up. She was wearing Initiate red, and he saw that she was wearing that shaeram that she found in the courtyard. "Were we going to train today?"
Tarrin shook his head, then he yawned again.
"We have to get back to it, Tarrin," she told him. "You've gone three months without a single workout. You may be getting soft."
With a flick of his tail, he shooed her off, then closed his eyes and put his head down on his paws.
"You're sure?"
He shooed her away with his tail again.
He felt her get up. "Oh, Tarrin," she called.
Annoyed he opened his eyes and glared at her. "What?" he demanded in the unspoken manner of the Cat.
"There's no need to get snippy," she said frostily. "I just wanted to know how your parents are doing."
Although the strangeness of it seemed to be lost on her, it was not lost on him. He did not speak. And her response was more than merely understanding what was in his eyes. She had been snippish in response to his own blunt demeanor. Such a reaction could only come if she understood what he'd said. Giving her a strange look, he rose up into a sitting position. How could she have understood? Only other cats, or a Were-cat, could have understood his words.
The shaeram. She'd found it in the courtyard, where the statue of that Goddess stood. And both of them had been amazed to find it, considering that it wasn't there the day before. Could it have been some kind of gift from that Goddess to Allia? Something to let her understand Tarrin when he was a cat?
There was one way to find out. Giving her a direct look, he said "Stand on one foot and sing the drunken courtesan song."
"And what insanity possesses you to think I'd act a fool for your amusement?" she countered with a smile. Then she blinked, and her expression went from mild amusement to one of incredulity.
"Yes," he replied to her unspoken question. "Don't ask me how, I don't know. I think it's that amulet you found in the courtyard. I think it's letting you understand me."
She reached into her shirt and drew out the ivory medallion. "Amazing," she said. "It's as if I hear you speaking in your own voice! But that's impossible, you being the way you are now."
"I am speaking in my own voice," he told her. "Well, sort of. It's my unspoken voice. It's just that you can hear it."
"I can hear it fine," she said, staring at him.
"Take off the amulet," he said.
She nodded, and removed it. "Alright," she said. "Try now." Tarrin asked her how old her father was, but there was no reply. "If you're talking, I can't hear it," she told him after a moment. Then she put it back on. "Tarrin?"
"It's the amulet," he affirmed.
"My," she breathed, then she stared at it. "There is no way that this found its way to me by sheer accident," she said firmly. "I can almost smell someone's hand making things like they are."
"Yes, but who would put it there?" Tarrin said. He secretly had suspicions, of course. That Goddess in the statue was probably the guilty party. She was the only one, outside of Allia herself and Jesmind, that knew about Tarrin's ability to communicate in the unspoken manner of the Cat. But Allia's devotion to Fara'Nae would probably make her reject the necklace if Tarrin told her where it really came from. And her having it would open up entire worlds of new possibilities. For one, if he didn't miss his mark, he could speak to her in the manner of the Cat while in humanoid form, allowing him to talk to her without speaking. The use of it went beyond mere words.
So, to make sure she kept it, a little bit of creative manipulation of the truth was in order. Tarrin couldn't lie while speaking in the manner of the Cat. Lying was alien to the Cat, so it had no place in its language. But that didn't stop him from spinning the truth on its edge.
"I'm sure that the goddess that gave it to you wanted you to have it, Allia," he told her, stressing the word goddess while underplaying the possibility that it was some goddess other than Fara'Nae. "Else she'd never have put it there for you to find." The key to a good lie-or manipulation of the truth, in this case-was simplicity. The simpler things were, the more easily they could be accepted as honest words. That was why Tarrin didn't elaborate, allowing her to digest his statement and draw her own conclusions.
"It certainly wasn't there the day before," she said in support. And it's so lovely," she sighed, looking at the carved ivory symbol. "You're right, my brother," she said after a moment. "It was left there for me on purpose. I'll not question a gift freely given, even though I know it wasn't from the Holy Mother." She gave Tarrin a sly look. "And I suspect that you know where it came from," she pressed, sitting down beside him and grabbing him by the tail. "It's from that other one, isn't it? The one they made me swear obedience to this morning?"
Tarrin laughed ruefully. "I'd imagine so," he told her. "This is her domain, after all. If anyone put it there, it was her."
"Yes, you're right," she said. "I guess that's not all that hard to figure out, is it? She knows about you and me, and she gave me this to help me talk with you." She patted it, then slid it back under her shirt. "I'll have to talk fast to the Holy Mother, but I think she won't mind. She gave me permission to take that oath, after all. I get the feeling that the Holy Mother has some kind of agreement with this Goddess of the Sorcerers over me. I think they're sharing me somehow."
"Why not?" Tarrin shrugged. "If your Holy Mother is sure that this other goddess will take good care of you, and won't try to steal you, then I don't think she'd mind all that much. From what you've told me of her, she seems a very practical goddess."
"The Holy Mother is very practical," Allia said. "It's what makes her such a sensible goddess, and it's a reflection of the way we Selani live. Practicality is very important out in the desert. Without it, we would quickly die."
"I imagine so," he agreed. "I think you're in a pretty unusual situation, Allia. You've got the Holy Mother looking out for you, but since you can do Sorcery, that also puts you under the influence of this goddess of the Sorcerers. I guess it's not all that strange to think that they made a deal. I don't think they want any friction between each other, you and the Sorcerers, or upset your beliefs."
Allia laughed. "Here we sit, daring to speculate on the motives of the gods. I'm surprised we haven't been struck dead."
"Men have been doing it for as long as there have been gods to talk about," Tarrin shrugged, or as best he could in cat form.
"Truly," she agreed.
"I'm going back to sleep," he told her. "I'll see you later?"
"Later," she replied.
Tarrin saw her again about sunset, coming out of the main Tower's entrance that led to the kitchens, and also the entrance that Initiates and Novices were supposed to use. Her hair was damp; she'd been in the baths. "Tarrin," she called, her expression a bit irritated, "you would not believe who I just saw."
"That Wikuni?" he asked.
She nodded. "I can't believe that anyone would act like that. If she were Selani, her parents would have killed her!"
"What did she do?"
"She threw a temper tantrum in the middle of the kitchens," she replied. All because the cook wouldn't bake her a fresh loaf of bread, no less! She was completely out of control. She even threw knives at the cook!"
"Wow," he breathed. "Did the Keeper spank her again?"
"What?"
Tarrin quickly related the short tale of his meeting with the Wikuni, which made Allia laugh. "No, the Keeper wasn't there," she replied. "One of the Council did come down and speak very firmly to her, though. I think she listened about as much as a rock would have."
"I wouldn't be surprised," Tarrin grunted.
"Where are you going?"
"To get something to eat," he replied.
"I'll come with you," she said.
The night air was crisp and cold, the ever-present wind of the Keen howling over the battlements of the wind-swept fortress. Built of gray stone over two thousand years ago, the forgotten structure clung perilously to the cliffside of God's Crag, a massive mountain south of the main crux of the three Petal Lakes, the point where the three lakes joined. The six towers of the outer walls and main keep had stood against the stiff, constant wind for more years than most things on the world had lived, and had withstood the merciless pounding in such a way that made the use of magic obvious. Built long ago by a forgotten king to protect the flow or iron from the rich mountains that surrounded the Petal Lakes, Castle Keening served a new master now. The mines to the east of Castle Keening were long ago abandoned and collapsed, and those to the north were supplied by lakebarge and raft instead of the forgotten overland routes that the grim, foreboding castle had once defended from raiding bands of Waern, Dargu, Bruga, and Trolls.
A lone figure stood on a balcony high in the tower that rose over the main keep. Ashen skin took on a ghostly pallor in the light of the two risen moons and the Skybands, almost luminous in its colorlessness. Black hair contrasted the ghostly skin blaringly, long, thick hair that was kept neat, clean, and tied back away from the thin, emotionless face. A face that made most people cringe or step back unconsciously. He was a tall man, tall and almost cadaverously thin, wearing a simple gray robe that was kept scrupulously clean and neat. The robe did not billow in the stiff wind. The man's hair did not so much as flow, even as the wind howled around him. Behind the man was a tall, burly Dal wearing a mail shirt under a breastplate. The man's iron gray hair was cut short, as was his beard, and a wicked scar ran down his left cheek. Beside him was a slender woman wearing a black robe and cloak, with a hood pulled over her face to conceal it from the light that made her dark clothes a silhouette against the fire burning in the fireplace behind the trio.
"The Sorcerers have recovered the Were-cat, Master Kravon," the large Dal told him in a voice as gravelly as his appearance, a voice like the mountain stone. "More to the point, he went back to them."
"Indeed," the man in the gray robe said in a cold, neutral voice. "I expected as much. That one is full of surprises."
"We can still remove him, Lord Kravon," the woman said in a calm voice.
"As efficiently as before?" Kravon asked in a monotone, glancing over his shoulder. "All your prior attempts have done is to warn the katzh-dashi that we are aware of their prize."
"Luck, Lord Kravon," the woman said in a slightly ruffled voice, smoothing her cloak's hem uncounsiously, then settling her hood deeper over her face. "We very nearly had him, more than once, but blind luck favors fools."
"Fool," he chuckled grimly. "Naive, yes. Inexperienced, yes. But not a fool. Never that. You underestimate our opponent, my dear. And his allies. They are guarding him. Even now, they are preparing to raise the ancient ward that surrounds their Tower. With it raised, the magic of the Wizards will not be able to penetrate, and the Were-cat will be safely contained on the grounds."
"My magic will still be quite effective, Lord Kravon," the woman said confidently.
"Yes, but what will you do with it?" he asked, turning around and regarding her with eyes that were as cold as the grave. Eyes that gave children nightmares. "Should you attempt to eliminate the Were-cat, you will most certainly be found out. And my eyes and ears within the katzh-dashi will be removed. Our other agents in the Tower would have no way to get their information to us. At this stage in the game, that is not acceptable.
"The katzh-dashi are a force to be reckoned with, my dear. You, of all people, should be aware of that. Their magic is strong, and they know what to do with it. They know what is at stake, and they primp and ready the Were-cat for his role in the game." He chuckled again, a sound like steel sliding across steel. "And the Were-cat is not the only one that can play the role. The Selani, and the Wikuni, they are as much a danger to us as he is. The poor creatures. If they only knew what it was they were being prepared for."
"From the sound of your voice, my Lord, you have a plan," the Dal said. "I stand ready to carry out your orders."
"Yes, Bral, in a moment," he said, turning back around, staring up into the brilliant starry sky. "The Were-cat," he said quietly, "is a Weavespinner. An Ancient. My dear, I believe you understand exactly what that means."
"Aye, my lord," she said grimly. "He holds power over the All."
"We cannot allow that to come to pass," he said. "We must strike at him now, before he learns what power he holds, and how to wield it."
"But my Lord," she said, "if they raise the ward, they are putting him out of our reach."
"Ah, yes," he agreed. "But that only protects him from those who are outside."
"I understand, my Lord," the woman said with a bow of her head. "I'll gather up the people I'll need."
"The katzh-dashi are very much caught up in tradition and custom," Kravon mused to himself. "They'll put the Were-cat through their normal Initiate, and teach him at only a slightly faster rate than usual. Because even they do not know exactly how to go about training him in arts that were lost eons ago. That works in our favor." He turned and looked at the woman. "I want him dead before he weaves his first spell, my dear," he commanded in a clear voice. "Every time he touches the Weave, he presents more of a danger to us. There is no place in our plans for him."
"I will see to it, my Lord," she said confidently. "I already have a most delicious plan in mind, one that presents no danger to our own people."
Kravon nodded. "Just get it done, my dear," he said. "Now go. You must be back at the Tower before daybreak." She curtsied gracefully to him, then turned and walked away. "Bral," Kravon called after the woman left the room.
"Yes, my Lord?"
"Bring Semoa to me," he said. "I am confident that our puppet will do her best, but I will not gamble on her success. It is time for Jegojah."
Bral's rocky face blanched. "The Doomwalker?" he gasped. "My Lord, is that entirely wise?"
"Wise or not, it is necessary," he said. "And you would do well not to second guess my decisions, General."
"Never, my Lord," he said in swift and sincere humility. "I only struggle to understand what's obviously over my head."
"To seek wisdom does you credit, Bral," he said. "But remember that all men have limitations."
"Aye, my Lord," Bral said in meek contrition. "I will bring Semoa to you."
Kravon nodded. "Quickly, General, quickly. Time is passing."
After a very good night's sleep, Tarrin arose the next morning curiously expectant, and a bit eager. It was surprising to him to think that he was eager to get into the business of learning Sorcery, but he was. He had only touched that power once, in cat form, and even now the memory of it was veiled by the long rides he had spent in cat form. The only thing he remembered about it was the feeling of the power inside of him, around him, and then feeling it rush out of him in such a flood that he felt drained. He wanted to know more about it, know how he had done it, how it worked.
It was a subject that was kept in the strictest confidence in the Novitiate. Novices were not taught a whit of Sorcery, nor were even the most funadamental aspects of it taught, nor were the books or manuscripts that went into any detail kept where a Novice could reach. All of that was saved for the Initiate. From what he already knew, the first rides of the Initiate were more classroom instruction and history, but it was the history of the katzh-dashi and formal education on the fundamentals of magic. After that was completed, then the Initiates would be paired with Sorcerers, and they would start learning Sorcery first-hand. The Initiate was again unlike the Novitiate in that it had no formal structure after the learning began. An Initiate was deemed graduated when he satisfied the Sorcerers that he was competent. That could take months, it could take years. It depended entirely upon the individual's aptitude and desire to learn. After the Initiate was complete, the full-fledged individual had the option of joining the katzh-dashi, or going their own way. Entry into the katzh-dashi wasn't a requirement, but the Sorcerers weren't about to let people out there run around with the gift unless they had formal training in how to control it.
And once you were in the Initiate, you didn't get out until the Tower was done with you. No Initiate had ever run away from the Tower that had not been captured or killed.
Because of all that, Sorcery was a complete mystery to him. All that he knew was his own brief touch on that vast power, a touch that was made when he wasn't fully in command of his own wits and made in a panic.
Opening the door to his room, he stepped out wearing Initiate red. It felt strange, somehow. After two months of wearing no clothes at all, anything against his skin that wasn't fur was odd, but seeing the color of it in glances and peripheral vision made it feel alien to him. Before he left, it had always been white. Always. And now the color fringing his eyes was red. More than once, he had an irrational impulse to check to see what was bleeding. After two months, the conceptions he had drawn from wearing Novice white for so long were yet to fade.
Although it was not even dawn, Allia was not in her room. Ever the early riser, she had a habit of waking long before him and spending the time walking the gardens. It wasn't an allowed practice in the Novitiate, but she was never caught out of her room when she was supposed to be within it. The gardens held an almost mystical attraction for the Selani warrior. The flowers and color and vivid life of the plants never ceased to amaze her. It reminded Tarrin how he took the things around him for granted. What was everyday to him was something to inspire wonder in his desert-born friend. Then again, he had little doubt that the descriptions of her homeland would pale in comparison to the real thing, when he finally did get the chance to see it for himself.
It was dark outside, with a pale mist hugging the ground, a mist thick enough to dim the light from the Skybands high above, light that only illuminated the grayish fog in a ghostly light that obscured everything within. This close to dawn, only the White Moon, Dommammon, was still in the sky, but it was too low to the horizon to add any light. Definitely not enough to pierce the fog. The air was chilled with the beginning of fall, and the scents riding on the still air were damp and subdued. The foggy air quickly drowned out most senses, giving Tarrin a curious sense of isolation within the misty haze. It obscured his vision of the main Tower ahead as he walked out on the path, and the North Tower behind disappeared into the dim murk. Scents were watered down by the humid air, and sound reflected back off the gray misty billows, amplifying the faint scrapes of his paws on the gravel path. His tail shivered as the damp air penetrated the fur sheathing it, putting a strange cold sensation against skin that was not accustomed to such feelings.
It was a new day. A new start. The day was certainly going out of its way to be different. This was the first time that Tarrin had felt the chill of the coming winter, or had seen the fog for which the city was famous. In the spring, it was said that one couldn't see a candle in a window across the street until well after the midday bell. The fog was a normal fixture from the beginning of winter to the middle of spring. It was a poignant reminder of how much time he had lost. Two months, he'd been told.
He encountered a solitary figure as he walked along the path towards the Tower. The fog muffled the figure's scent, but the bushy tail swaying behind a feminine form marked the person as Wikuni. And there were only two Wikuni at the Tower. The Princess, and her maid. Tarrin hadn't seen the Princess' maid, but she doubted that the maid looked that much like her Royal Bratness. As they neared each other, he saw that it was indeed the Princess of Wikuna, in all of her royal authority, wearing an Initiate dress of red and without the pretty baubles and jewels which had decorated her fingers and neck the day before. Her boxy muzzle was shivering as she seemed to mutter to herself, but her amber eyes were hard and steely. Not the look he expected from the vapid scatterbrain. She looked up at him, and that look evaporated like the fog around them exposed to the summer sun, replaced with a hollow emptiness that made it seem that there was nothing behind those eyes except the back of her skull.
He passed her without comment or acknowledgement, and he heard her stop and turn around. "Hey!" she snapped, her words echoing loudly in the muffled silence of the fog.
Tarrin stopped, but did not turn around. "What?" he asked in a calm, quiet voice.
"It is customary for people of your station to bow," she said in a grating voice.
"My station," Tarrin said in a calm voice. He didn't like the way that this was going. He could see now that if he didn't take a stand immediately, he would have no peace with her. The Wikuni was going to be in his class today, and that meant that there would be long hours of enforced companionship with her. He decided that it was best for his own sanity to put her down now, and put her down hard. "My station is whatever I decide it to be," he told her in a grim voice, turning around. His irritation lit his eyes from within with their unholy greenish aura, making them look as twin pools of utter evil in the ghostly light of the fog. "And I'm going to tell you something right now, little Wikuni. I have no patience for people like you. Stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours. But if you get on my nerves, I'll make you regret it."
"I'd like to see you try," she snapped. "I'm the Princess of Wikuna! You-"
Without hesitation, Tarrin snapped forward like an arrow launched from a bow. Before the Wikuni could even flinch, he had her by the bodice of her Initiate dress. She made a squeak of shock that cut off what she was going to say as his fingers closed on the material, then he yanked her towards him by that precipitous handhold. She grabbed his wrist in both hands and rained curses and demands on him as he dragged her towards the main Tower wordlessly, at a pace so fast that he was half dragging the foxwoman behind him. He entered the Tower with her in tow, dragged her down the main stairs, and entered the baths with her feet dragging along the stones and her grip on his wrist the only thing keeping him from ripping the front of her dress away. There were three people in the baths, two women and a man, all three of them in the bathing pool at discrete distances from one another. All three stopped cleaning themselves and watched as Tarrin dragged the hapless Wikuni by the bodice of her dress, right up to the edge of the pool. At the end where the water hissed and steamed.
The Wikuni shrieked in terror when she realized what Tarrin was going to do. She let go of his wrist and tried to pull away from his grip, willing to sacrifice her dress, but by then it was too late. Tarrin's other paw closed around the base of her tail, something that would not come off easily. Hoisting her up by her bodice and her tail, he took a little shimmying step, and then heaved her into the middle of the hottest part of the bathing pool.
She landed in the water face first, making a spectacular splash, then she broached the surface like a boulder fired from a catapult. She charged towards the cooler water with whimpering cries streaming from her mouth, her fur clinging to her skin and making her look like a drowned rat. Tarrin watched her with emotionless eyes as she managed to reach a temperature that was bearable more than painful, and that was when he was fixed with the most baleful glare he'd ever seen in his life. Had he still been human, it may have taken him aback, but he had no fear of her, so it had no venom. "You are going to be so sorry you did this to me!" she promised in a hissing voice.
"This was your warning," Tarrin replied in a voice so cold that it stole the venom out of her eyes. "I am not a simpering human, Wikuni, and I'm not one of your subjects either. Whoever you are means nothing to me. If you irritate me, I'll kill you. I'll do it without a second thought. Treat me like something not worth your effort one more time, and I'll rip off your tail and hang it on my wall as a trophy. Talk to me like you did again, and I'll hang you off the fence and skin you. And I'll make sure you live long enough to see your own pelt. Do I make myself abundantly clear?"
Staring at him in horror, she could only give a slight nod.
"Good. I hate repeating myself."
She suddenly erupted into a bawl of tears, but he tuned out her sobs and stalked away from the pool. Wondering when he'd become so hard. He'd only meant to make it clear that he would brook no attitude from the girl, and then he was suddenly threatening her life.
He knew that the time away had been good for him, but even then he knew that he was nowhere near in complete control. That little episode was a very impacting reminder of that fact. He still had to be very careful of himself, else he would do something that he would truly regret later.
On the other hand, the Wikuni would have probably taken anything less to be empty words. At least now, she understood exactly how he felt about her attitude.
The entire affair managed to spoil the exuberance and anticipation he'd been feeling. Muttering to himself, he stalked up the stairs, in the direction of the kitchen, intent on claiming the breakfast he had left his room to get in the first place. He stopped when a glimpse of red hair shown ahead of him, a thick shock of hair the color of fire disappearing up the staircase. He fully well remembered, with a bit of a shiver, the last time he had seen a redheaded woman on the steps leading from the baths. Memories of that nightmarish encounter were dim, but the emotions behind them, emotions to which he was susceptible considering his months in cat form, made his ears go back and made his heart flutter in his chest. Advancing slowly and carefully, he knelt at the base of the steps and stared up their length, up to where they slowly began to turn to the left, his nose sifting through the myriad scents left on the stone by countless feet. Only those that were freshest had any meaning to him, and none of them were Jesmind. In fact, her scent was nowhere around. Could it have been someone else? Jesmind's hair color was odd, but not unique. He had not seen anyone else in the Tower with quite that shade of fire red hair, but that didn't mean that there wasn't another one.
But his nose didn't lie. Nobody had been on the steps in the last half an hour, except for himself. He puzzled over that for a moment. How could the woman with the red hair have went up the steps, and not left a scent? Even if her feet had never touched the ground, the traces of her scent would still be drifting in the warm, muggy air. Especially since the air circulated down the stairs; he could feel it against his face. He was downwind, and yet there was no scent at all.
Tarrin debated what to do. There was another set of stairs leading out of the baths, on the far side of the chamber, so he wasn't pinned into going in this one direction. But he was curious about who, or what, he had seen, something that left behind no trace of its passage. Jesmind was good, but there was no way she could have done that.
The sound of sloshing behind him told him that the Wikuni had dragged herself out of the bathing pool. He could hear her panting, almost as if to keep control. Yet she didn't say a word. She was either too frightened of him-no, it had to be that. He didn't credit her with enough sense to be otherwise.
Not caring to be brained from behind by an indignant wet Wikuni, Tarrin advanced up the steps cautiously, claws out, his every sense straining to know what was around the slight bend in the staircase as it rose up to the ground floor. There still was nothing, only his own scent going down. When the landing came into view, he again saw only the briefest flash of red, a lock of hair disappearing around the corner. He rushed up to that spot and stared down the hallway. It was a hallway that led into the center of the Tower, towards the Heart, and there was not a single doorway between the stairs and the ornate iron gate that marked the Chamber of the Heart. There was nowhere for the mysterious figure to go, and yet she, or he, vanished without a trace. Without any trace at all, for there was no scent on the stone that was even a day old. Nobody went into the Chamber of the Heart without a good reason.
Tarrin could think of only two things. Either his eyes were deceiving him, or whatever it was had no scent.
If his eyes were deceiving him, then they were doing it again. Tarrin could see faint movement behind the iron gate marking the end of the hallway, a flash of red and white behind the intricate iron scrollwork, iron wrought into the shape of the shaeram on each of the two iron gates. Just like the red and white of Jesmind's hair and shirt. It wasn't like Jesmind to sneak around like this. If Jesmind wanted to talk to him, or to fight, she would have come right out and got him. He seriously doubted that she wanted to fight, but if she did, then maybe she was trying to bait him into ambush. Curiously detached, he realized that he needed to find out exactly who, or what, that was, to see if it was friend, foe, or other.
It only took an instant's thought to form his awareness around the shape of the cat, and then his body flowed into the form as his vision blurred. He heard a startled gasp behind him, down the stairs, but he ignored it as he crept on utterly silent paws up the hallway, which was lit with glowglobes like all hallways within the Tower proper. He reached the iron gates, then slunk down on his belly and looked through a hole in the ironwork by the base, looking into the large room.
The room was empty, except for Jesmind. She was standing with her back to him, her thick mane of wild red hair flowing down her back and around her shoulders, bunching up against the base of her tail. A tail that swished to and fro in a reflexive, rhythmic pattern. Her paws were clasped behind her back in a relaxed manner, and she was staring at the strange place in the middle of the chamber, staring upwards at the ceiling so incredibly high above.
Tarrin saw immediately that all was not what it appeared to be, because Jesmind had no scent.
It was not Jesmind, he was certain of that. It could not be her, no matter how much it looked like her. Because she-it did not have a scent.
"I know you're there, Tarrin," the figure called. It sounded like Jesmind's voice, even down to the undertones of impatience in the timbre. "You don't have to hide from me. You know me better than that. If I wanted to fight, I'd have attacked you while you were busy with the walking throw-rug."
It was very convincing. Very convincing. But it was not Jesmind. Tarrin changed form absently, taking a step back. He had no idea who or what that was, but since it was somehow pretending to be Jesmind, he didn't want to risk trying to find out more. Yet maybe he could find out more.
"What do you want, Jesmind?" he asked acidly.
"To talk."
"The last time you said that, you tried to rip my head off."
"Times change, Tarrin," she said. Tarrin's eyes narrowed. Jesmind didn't call him by his name. She called him cub. "I've been thinking. I make the offer to you one last time, Tarrin, but this time, you don't have to leave. I talked to the Keeper the other day, and she explained how, dangerous, this Sorcery business can be if you're not trained. I can teach you what you need to know while you're here."
Clever. Just what he would want to hear out of her mouth. Tarrin reached out with his senses, closing his eyes and taking in the air deeply through his nose, straining with his ears. He could hear the Wikuni behind him, advancing curiously, could hear her breathing. No such sound emanated from the chamber before him. The smell, the feel of that Conduit thing that Ahiriya had described tingled along his skin, but he could discern no scents of anything alive inside the chamber, nor could he hear anything.
A scent. Yes, there was a scent. A smell of…ozone. Like the smell of lightning after it strikes. And there was a sound coming from the room, but not of breathing. More like the sound of a distant wind, the sound of air pushing against air. Both were very faint, almost negligible, but they were there.
"Wikuni," he said calmly, quickly, aware that she stood right behind him, "give me your slipper."
"What? I-"
"Don't argue!" he snapped in a sibilant hiss. "Just give it to me!"
Lifting a foot with a mutter, she reached down and removed her slipper, then handed it to him. "I don't see what-"
She cut herself off as Tarrin reared back and then threw it into the room with considerable force, squeezing it through a hole in the gate, and managing to strike the figure square in the back. The throw had enough to stagger the form forward, until its foot crossed the line and into the dark circle that marked the boundary of that Conduit Ahiriya said was there.
It gave a keening cry, like the sound of wind howling through the treetops, a horrid sound that made Tarrin's ears stand straight up, then try to fold in on themselves to block it out. Then the form of Jesmind vanished in a whirlwind of dark clouds. But the whirlwind seemed to falter, as the magical power inside the Conduit charged whatever it was that had been hiding behind Jesmind's appearance. The magical energy rushed into it, making it glow, and showing Tarrin its form. It was some kind of odd creature seemingly made out of the air itself, and its shaped altered wildly as it writhed and convulsed in the magical vortex that was the Conduit. It gave another keen, until a sudden blast of wind lashed out from inside the glowing area as the figure itself discorporated.
Shielding his eyes from the sudden hot wind, he heard the Wikuni gasp behind him as the hot wind passed them by and blew faint dust down the hall. "What was that!" she demanded in a slightly shocked voice, a voice held under tight control.
"I don't know," Tarrin replied.
"How did you know it wasn't, well, whatever it was?"
"It had no scent," he replied calmly.
She blinked, giving him a curious look. Tarrin noticed that those amber eyes were clear and totally lucid. They were…calculating, and they took in Tarrin from top to bottom, as if by that one glance, the Wikuni could work out the inner motives of his deepmost self. As if she was reassessing her opinion of him. Her look made him do the same thing. This Wikuni was more than she appeared.
"What in the Pit was that?" a voice called. Tarrin and the Wikuni both turned to look, to see two of the three from the baths, the man and the blond woman, standing in the hallway with towels wrapped around themselves.
"We don't know," the Wikuni said in her normal imperious tone. "Some kind of glowing ball thing got our attention, so we came down here to look at it. When we got here, it gave off that horrid sound and then just popped."
"Strange," the woman hummed, tapping her lower lip with a delicate finger. "I-nevermind, you're Initiates. I'll be able to find you. I'll be asking you about this later today, when I have a chance to find you. I want to know what that sound was."
"Why not now?" the Wikuni demanded in an impetuous tone.
"Because I'm standing here wearing a towel," she replied. "And that's Mistress to you, Initiate."
"M-Mistress," the Wikuni said gratingly, having to all but wrap her mouth around the word.
"Now go get out of that wet dress, and for the Goddess' sake, comb out your fur," she ordered. "You look like a drowned rat."
The Wikuni stamped her foot with a huffing sound escaping her lips as the two Sorcerers went back down the staircase. "I do not look like a drowned rat!" she said hotly.
"Actually, you do," Tarrin said in a calm voice, totally devoid of amusement.
"Well thank you, mister messenger!" she snapped at him. "It's your fault I'm standing here getting dye in my fur!"
Tarrin glanced at her, a sneaking suspicion dawning in his mind. "You can drop the act," he said. "I saw your eyes. There's no way you can be that smart and that stupid at the same time."
She seemed about to give him what-for, then she scratched the back of her head and laughed ruefully. "You can, if you pay attention to what you're doing," she relayed in a calm, conversational tone. "Most people wouldn't catch a slip that small. And I usually wouldn't make such a slip, but you surprised me."
"Slip?"
"Why, I'm the Brat Princess," she told him with a cheeky grin. A grin that showed her very sharp teeth. "Didn't you know that?"
"It seemed fairly obvious to me," he drawled, "but I don't see the need for it."
"You would, if you understood the situation," she sighed. "It is something of a secret, Tarrin. I spent a great deal of time convincing everyone I'm an empty-headed shill. I don't need you to go behind me and ruin that."
Nothing sparked Tarrin's curiosity more than a mystery, and here was a living one. The thought that she had to act like a brat intrigued him to no end, and his mind whirled with possible explanations. "We have time," he said.
"I'm wet and look a drowned rat," she chuckled. "I don't have as much time as you. Sunrise isn't far off, and I have to be ready. We'll talk-oh yes, we'll talk, but it will have to be later. Just promise me that you won't give me away."
"I won't," he said. "After the dunking I gave you, you have a perfect excuse to avoid me. So there won't be any more slips."
"True. I like the way you think," she agreed with that same toothy grin. "In fact, I'll absolutely loathe you for what you did, but since you're so, well…"
"Direct?"
"Yes, direct. That's the word I needed. Since you're so direct, I'll be too afraid of you to push things. The Brat Princess is a whining self-centered poppinjay, and she likes to hurt people that slight her, but she's a coward. She wouldn't risk you hurting her." Even her manner was different. Tarrin could see it in her, how she moved. She moved with a stately confidence that belied the impression that he had of her, although there was a certain tension in her, as if she was afraid to act true to her real nature in front of him. She was obviously able to submerge herself in her role as the Brat Princess so completely that she could literally take on an entirely new set of mannerisms. This was not a spoiled whining little egotistical brat. This was an intelligent, cunning, calculating young woman that seemed a bit haunted and somewhat defensive. No doubt for the reasons that she pretended to be so much less than what she actually was.
"I'll keep your secret, Wikuni," he promised. "Just be careful around me."
"Keritanima," she said. "My name is Keritanima. Keritanima-Chan Eram, Jewel of the Western Star, Lady of the 20 Seas, Bearer of the 5 Bands of Nan, Holder of the Ring of Bakul, Crown Princess of Wikuna. And don't you forget it," she added with a playful banter, a sly smile curling the corner of her maw.
Tarrin chuckled in spite of himself. "Until I hear it about three hundred times, I think I will," he admitted.
"Trust me. You'll know it by heart by the end of the day," she winked.
Tarrin actually laughed. "I take it I'm in for a very long day?"
"Everyone in my class will be," she grinned. "I have a reputation to maintain, after all, so I have to make a very memorable first impression."
"I'd better warn Allia," he chuckled. "And you'd better not annoy her until after I have a chance to explain things to her. She's even more direct than I am."
"I'll remember," she promised. "Just don't tell her about me."
"I'll figure out a way to explain it," he told her.
At sunrise, there were eight young men and women standing outside Master Brel's office. Tarrin had spent the time eating and waiting thinking about the strange encounter, with the whirlwind creature. Not three days after he returned, another attempt was made on him. He had no doubt that it was an attempt. No doubt that going into the chamber and facing what looked like Jesmind would have meant his death. It was yet another strange magical creature, something which he had no idea what it was. He'd have to ask Dolanna, when he next saw her. Dolanna's knowledge of magical beasties was very impressive.
Allia was there, and there were four others, two young men and two young women, all of them highly born, from the looks on their faces. Two in particular, a young man and young woman, looked noble to their fingertips, and the hot looks they passed at each other, an open animosity that bordered on rage, sizzled the air between them. The other young man looked like a Dal, and the swallow-necked young lady with her black-black hair and wide blue eyes was most defintely Shacean. No doubt that the two glaring at each other were nobles whose houses were at odds with one another. The other young man and lady were staying pretty well back from those two, but keeping them between themselves and Tarrin and Allia. From the looks of them, the two glarers were either Sulasian, Draconian, or Tykarthian. The three nations' peoples looked much alike. Tarrin joined Allia with a smile and an outreached paw, which was taken by his blood sister. She looked striking in his red Initiate uniform, a strange color on her after seeing her wear nothing but white since he knew her. She'd even had her silver hair trimmed and neatened from its long, ragged appearance for the occasion. "How did you sleep last night, sister" Tarrin asked.
"Well, but I felt lost within that large bed," Allia said. "I thought the beds of the Novices were soft. I fear I may grow used to your wetlander comforts."
"Maybe in another lifetime, deshaida," Tarrin told her with a smile.
He was about to say something else, but Keritanima came around the corner, looking quite regal and splendid. The signs of her recent dunking had been totally removed. Her fur was soft and silky and properly brushed, her long auburn hair was done up into a coronet atop her head, one made of beaten gold and set with a rainbow of assorted jewels, tumbling down her back and over her shoulders in carefully arranged waves and curls. Her Initiate dress was of the standard cut and form, but it was made of the finest silk, and had lace at the sleeves and at the throat. The look on her face was more imperious than regal, the look of a self-centered brat who knew the power she held. Tarrin had to admit, she played her part perfectly. Had he not known better, he would have been totally convinced. In fact, he had been, until he caught her in her lie. She looked every inch a princess.
"That reminds me," Tarrin whispered to Allia in Selani. "Don't pay any attention to the Wikuni or her antics. Just ignore her. I already warned her to leave you alone. I'll explain later, when we have time to talk."
"I will," she promised with a faint nod, and a calm look at the Wikuni. Tarrin glanced at Keritanima and gave her a faint nod, which she acknowledged with a slight movement of her eyes.
Keritanima did not disappoint. First, she went off on the tall noble boy that had been giving hot looks to the young lady, dressing him up then down, and calling him about fifty types of scoundrel and ruffian. All because he didn't offer to kiss her ring. Then she bored into the young lady for not curtsying quite deep enough after Keritanima had demanded, in an ear-grating voice, to be afforded the respect due to her station. She invented several new terms of disrespect on the spot when the noble boy politely told her she was being too loud, then she actually slapped the other young man, whom Tarrin did not know, that had been standing on the other side of the young lady and young man that had been looking daggers at each other. For no reason Tarrin could fathom. When he gave her a hot look, she reminded him that she was the Crown Princess, and that if he so much as thought about laying a hand on her, Daddy's Royal Marines, two hundred of whom were now garrisonned on the Tower grounds as part of the agreement between Wikuna and the Keeper, would find him and use him as a target dummy.
Tarrin had trouble trying not to laugh. Her mind was fluent, and her acting was quite impressive. She flowed from one irritating state to another, cajoling, commanding, making snide comments, throwing barbs and darts at the assembled Initiates that rolled from her maw with ceaseless frequency, or demanding compliments on her great beauty, or her pretty coronet, or commenting on the rarity of value of the silk in her dress. In mere moments, all four of the other Initiates looked ready to kill her. Allia gave her flat, challenging looks, looks that cowed Keritanima every time she seemed to want to approach. Tarrin, remembering that he didn't like the Wikuni in public, affixed her with similar flat stares, and those kept her on the far side of the gathering. When Brel appeared around the far corner, Tarrin thought that the other four would rush forward and kiss the hem of the man's robe in gratitude.
"Hhhrumph," he grumbled, "well now, it looks like all of you are ready. Follow me. And keep quiet." They followed the withered old man out of the North Tower and back to the main Tower. They ended up in a small chamber near the Novice quarters, that had ten chairs arranged to face a point in the front of the room. Brel left them there with commands for them to sit and wait. Tarrin chose a seat near the back, giving the chair a bit of a wary look. It had a solid back and no padding, and chairs like that gave him nowhere to put his tail. He turned the chair around and straddled it, folding his arms on the back of the chair and leaning into them. Keritanima, not wanting to be outdone by a chair, left immediately after Brel, and Tarrin could hear her voice piercing the rock as she demanded a split-back chair with lots of cushions, and refreshment. Tarrin thought she would have demanded someone to fan her, if she thought she could get away with it.
"I may end up killing that, creature," Allia said quietly.
"Just ignore her," Tarrin told her. "She won't bother you directly."
"She's bothering me indirectly," she grunted.
"May be, but you'll understand later. Let's meet after we get out of here, by the statue. We need to talk."
Allia nodded, and Keritanima returned, a smug look on her face. A minute later, a split-back chair was brought into the room, but no cushion. She berated the servant over the slight for several moments, then seated herself regally on the chair, her tail threading the space between the slats in the back of the chair. There was low talk, talk of expectations and wondering at what would happen this first day, and Tarrin joined in it mentally. He had no idea what would be done this day, the first day of the Initiate, and his mind went over the possibilities as they waited for whatever it was to happen.
The door opened, and the thin form of Sevren entered the room. He looked just as Tarrin had remembered, tall and thin with those wire-frame spectacles over his eyes, dark hair speckled with gray, cut short, and that same type of brown robe with the leather belt. It seemed no surprise to Tarrin that Sevren was the instructor. He was one of only two Sorcerers Tarrin knew well, and trusted. He had no doubt that the Keeper had put Sevren into the job to keep Tarrin at ease, and in a way, he did not mind at all. Tarrin's suspicions of the Tower made him wary of the people who lived within it. Sevren was one of the two exceptions.
"Good morning, Initiates," he said in his calm, pleasant voice.
"Good morning," they said in unison, except for Allia and Keritanima.
"My name is Master Sevren, and I'll be teaching you your first day's lesson. I have no doubt that all of you are wildly curious about what we will do today, and what you will be doing for the next few years." Keritanima's eyes narrowed at his use of the word years. "That is what today's lesson will be about. A tour of the parts of the Tower we use for instructing Initiates in the use of Sorcery, an oveview of what will happen in the next month, and a little bit of historical lecture, so you will know where the katzh-dashi came from, and where we hope to go in the future. Because it's early yet, we'll take care of that right now."
"The Katzh-Dashi are a very ancient group," he began, raising a hand and conjuring forth an Illusion before him. It was a two-dimensional illusion, a simple image like a portrait, but drawn on air rather than canvas. The image conjured by the illusion was the Tower itself, without the six surrounding Towers. "They have occupied this land for nearly seven thousand years. Most of what happened in such distant past is lost to us, but we do know that even then the katzh-dashi performed tasks that gave us our name. If you didn't know, katzh-dashi means "servants of man" in the Ancient Tongue."
"Servant?" the young lady who'd been glaring at the man said in a hot tone. "I am nobody's servant!"
"We all serve, Milina," he told her cooly. "You serve your father by being here. I serve the Keeper by teaching you. The Keeper serves the needs of those she commands with her decisions. We all serve. It was always the goal of the katzh-dashi to serve mankind by using our magical powers for man's benefit. Anyway," he said adjusting the spectacles over his eyes, "for thousands of years, we did just that. We served. The city of Suld developed around the Tower of Sorcery, and over the years, grew to its current size and position of one of the largest cities in the West. I'll not go into the specifics during this time, a time we call the Age of Power. You'll get the specifics at a later date. What you need to know is that, at that time, the Ancients and the Sha'Kar worked harmoniously towards some unkown goal, and served man when not actively working towards it."
"What goal, Masster Sevren?" the blond young man asked.
"We don't know, Kev," he sighed. "The records of what the Ancients were working on were lost in the Breaking."
"Who were the Sha'Kar?" Keritanima asked idly, examing her short, sharp claws.
"Again, we don't know," he answered. "All we know is that they were a Non-human race who were very powerful in the Gift. The entire race vanished during the Breaking."
"Well, what is this Breaking you keep talking about?" Keritanima asked.
"It is the darkest hour of our history," he replied soberly, and the illusion changed to a large group of people standing outside the Tower gates. "It happened exactly two thousand, one hundred and twelve years ago."
"Ah, that. We call it the Year of Chaos," Keritanima said in a disintered voice.
"Different cultures would have different names for it, but they are the same," he said calmly. "Anyway, it was the end of what many call the Age of Power. Back during that time, magic was a commonplace thing. Many practiced it, and many more had created items of magical power to perform tasks. Even the most dullard farmhand had the magical aptitude to cast minor enchantments and cantrips, if he studied the proper magical words. Perhaps it was this commonality that created the Breaking," he speculated with a sigh. "Anyway, to make it short, since most of you probably know many stories about it, the Weave was ripped. We still don't know how or why it happened. Most scholars think that the magical pressures placed on it by the peoples of the world had torn it, and the backlash caused almost all of those magical objects to explode, almost all at the exact same time. Since those magical treasures were owned mostly by the rich and those versed in magic, it killed most of the important people in the world. Kings, Emperors, powerful Wizards, rich merchants, nobles, many of them were killed by the disaster. The sudden power vacuums in each kingdom caused chaos as wars erupted over succession. It was a ghastly time," he sighed. "What was probably worse than this was that it killed almost everyone with knowledge of Magic. There was a void of magical power in mere seconds."
"What about Sorcery?" the dark-haired girl asked.
"Well, that is itself a mystery," he told her. "After the initial explosions, some courtier rushed to the Tower to seek aid for the wounded king, and he found nothing. The Towers, all seven of them, were totally, completely empty. Even the furniture was gone. The Ancients, our forebearers, had vanished like smoke in the Breaking. To this day, we have no idea what happened. Whether they all died, or simply foresaw what was coming, and removed themselves. If so, we don't understand why they didn't come back after the backlash had finished.
"This disappearance caused problems," Sevren sighed, pointing at the illusion. "The people of Suld believed that the Sorcerers were responsible for the cataclysmic accident. We still take blame for it, even though we honestly don't know if the Ancients caused the Breaking or not. There simply is no evidence left behind. Anyway, because of this, the Tower was attacked by a mob of Sulasians seeking vengance by trying to tear the Tower down. But the magic that had raised the Tower was still strong, and they couldn't so much as scratch the stones. After that, the new King, taking the place of the prior one who had died of his wounds, declared all Sorcerers to be enemies of Sulasia, and they were to be killed on sight. The Tower was considered to be cursed by most, and it was abandoned to fall to ruin."
He removed his spectacles and cleaned a lens on his robe. "I don't need to describe the next few hundred years to you. I'm sure all of you have heard the stories." Tarrin had indeed. Almost one hundred years of war, famine, and chaos, where kingdoms rose and fell by the year. "But things settled down, as things had to. But the loss of the many Mages and Priests, killed by their own magical objects, left a void in our culture that took almost a thousand years to replace. As to the Sorcerers, well, anyone who displayed talent in Sorcery was branded a witch, and was either killed or driven out. The Priesthoods of many kingdoms actively hunted down Sorcerers, killing them wherever they could find them, and especially the priesthood of Karas, the patron god of Sulasia. In one particularly heinous act, the Crusaders, a militant arm of the Church, sacked and destroyed what is now Jerinhold, but was then a small village called Bluewaters. They slaughtered everyone in the village when they failed to hand over a suspected witch, who wasn't even in the village. The order of Karas was not the only one to commit such atrocities.
"The Gods, who had not noticed these events, suddenly stood up and took notice. Karas especially was very unhappy with the conduct of his priests and their place in the whole business. He stripped them of their magical power for a period of one hundred years. And in that time, Sulasia lost half of its lands to surrounding kingdoms in constant wars. But Sulasia survived, if somewhat smaller."
The illusion changed again, showing the face of a young man. He was handsome, a bit weary in the eyes, with long brown hair and a small scar over a thin-lipped mouth. "For a thousand years, not a single Sorcerer had stood on the Tower grounds. What few of us there were were called witches, and were hunted down and killed. But there were a few who managed to persevere, to find others with the Gift and teach them, and we continued. But it was a dangerous life. That changed when Marek the One was born. He came into his power late, as we measure things, well after he'd started a life as a caravan guard. He managed to teach himself once he understood what he was, using some scraps of books left over from the Age of Power. He came to Suld in his travels, saw the Tower, and stood for hours lost in its beauty. He claims in his writings that he heard a gentle voice calling to him, a voice he could not deny. It convinced him to come into the Tower, and he did so. Marek claimed the Tower of Sorcery as his own. Of course, nobody really noticed this. Nobody came onto the Tower grounds, because the people of Suld thought that the grounds were cursed. He was only the first, for more began to show up at the Tower gates, young men and women, all drawn here by some strange, mysterious voice. That, of course, was the voice of the Goddess, calling her new children to their home, just as it drew Marek. They were all Gifted to some degree or another, and almost by general consent, they organized themselves into the new katzh-dashi. Marek was named the first Keeper of the Key, or the Keeper, and they started on a quest of recovering the knowledge that was lost when the Ancients vanished from the world. A quest that we still pursue to this day."
"How much have you gotten back?" the dark-haired young man asked.
"Not even a fraction of what the Ancients knew," he sighed. "It was written in books from that time that the Ancients could move mountains, turn aside the sea, and even stop the moons in their places if they had a need for it. We think that this is exaggeration, but there has to be some kernel of truth to it. The Ancients were very powerful. We've found stories of how the Tower was drawn forth from the very rock beneath us by magic, and shaped into the form we see today. It has stood against the elements for over five thousand years." Tarrin wasn't the only one to blink. The Tower, the main building, anyway, looked like it was built weeks ago. "Yes, it doesn't look like it, does it? Amazing eye for architecture, the Ancients," Sevren chuckled. "The Ancients raised the other six towers not long before the Breaking, to create more room. They were very crowded, it seems. All of the other buildings on the grounds were built since we reclaimed the Tower." He chuckled. "Not long after this, the people of Suld realized what had happened, and they were very afraid. After all, it had been a thousand years since a Sorcerer had stood on this ground, and the people of Suld believed that the Ancients had caused the Breaking, and they still considered Sorcerers to be agents of evil. The stories of that time had evolved over the years into fanciful tales and myths. Anyway, it didn't take long for the priests of Karas, seeing their old enemies arise from the ashes, to try to put a stop to it. So they quickly incited civic unrest over the Sorcerers, and led a mob to the gates. But the katzh-dashi had no intentions of moving. They met them at the gates and demanded to see the King."
The illusion changed, to an illusion of a picture, a portrait of a man with a crown standing before an older Marek outside the very gates that stood before the Tower. "Tabon the Wise didn't earn his name through foolishness," Sevren chuckled. "He did indeed appear at the gates of the Tower to understand the intentions of these living myths. What surprised him was when Marek offered a bargain. In return for royal protection, the Sorcerers would aid the King in matters that didn't involve violence, espionage, or politics. They would also help defend the city of Suld itself against enemies that would attack it. They asked for very little in return. Only for royal recognition and protection from persecution. Tabon saw the gain for the Crown in this, for his current arrangement with the priests of Karas was not very useful for him. The priests considered the King only a minor resistance to their own wants, and they often tried to rule the kingdom through the King, through intimidation or worse. Tabon accepted the bargain. That bargain is still in effect to this day.
"Needless to say, the priests of Karas were outraged at this, mainly because it undercut the power of the church inside the kingdom. They gathered up their militant orders and priests and prepared an assault on the Tower. But Karas suddenly appeared before them as they prayed in their great cathedral, and he was very unhappy. He stripped the priests of their magical powers for a period of one year, and further decreed that one of the militant arms of the church, the Knights of Karas, would forever more be attached to the katzh-dashi. They would serve the katzh-dashi as bodyguards and protectors whenever they travelled outside the city of Suld, and when not needed by the Sorcerers, they would operate under the power of the Church. That arrangement is also still in effect," he chuckled. "Every katzh-dashi has a Knight assigned to protect him or her when they leave the city, and the Knights of Karas are famous world-wide for their skill, courage, and devotion. Both the Tower and the Church of Karas are very proud of them. Anyway, the priests weren't too happy about this, but it was the commandment of their God, so they could not disobey. It was made so, and the priests suffered their one year's punishment."
The illusion changed again, to show a great battle outside the wall of a city. Tarrin recognized it. It was the South Gate of Suld. "Our bargain was put into effect quickly. An army from Rauthym, a kingdom that was once to our east, invaded when they found out that the priests had been stripped of their magic. They marched unimpeded up to the gates of Suld and demanded the city's surrender. Tabon called on the katzh-dashi for assistance, and the Sorcerers answered. What happened next is what most call the Battle of Nine Bells. Grenig the Fool, king of Rauthym, attacked Suld, and was slaughtered. Instead of retreating, he foolishly pressed the attack, and was beaten back badly by the magic of the katzh-dashi. When the Church tower rang nine bells the next morning, the attacking army had been decimated, Grenig was dead, and the surviving generals had offered surrender. Rauthym was summarily annexed by Sulasia and became part of the kingdom, and still is today. Some of the people of Rauthym fled south and established the kingdom of New Rauthym, which is now one of the ten Free Cities."
The illusion faded from view. "That is more or less the general history of the Tower," he told them. "Very little has happened since the Battle of Nine Bells in a historical sense that has a bearing on your training. We'll be more specific about times and dates and events, but that will be later, after you're well into your training." He adjusted the spectacles on his nose. "I think we can start with the tour now," he said. "If all of you will follow me."
Sevren led them to several places, and they new Initiates followed in wonder. Tarrin himself was very intrigued by the story he'd been told, about the Ancients and the Breaking. He'd heard stories of those things from his father, old folk tales that did paint the Sorcerers as evil. They were also generally blamed for the Breaking, and that was the reason that, to this very day, a Sorcerer was not safe once he stepped over the border of Sulasia. Sorcerers were still considered witches in most of the kingdoms of the West. That they tolerated Sulasia's alliance to the katzh-dashi was something of a mystery to Tarrin. But then again, Tarrin remembered that his father said that the katzh-dashi almost never took any interest in affairs that happened outside the city walls of Suld. They were a very secluded order, almost regional, and it was easy to forget about them completely. Besides, Sulasia was one of the most powerful of the twelve Kingdoms, and no army would march against it with much enthusiasm.
It was more than that, he realized. The Tower was considered one of the best places of learning in the West. It was why so many nobles and rich merchants sent their children here for education. Perhaps the reputation of the Tower and the katzh-dashi was not quite so hard and feared as he first thought. Perhaps the world considered the new katzh-dashi to be a better version of the old ones. After all, they weren't as powerful as the Ancients. They didn't ignore the world the way the stories say the Ancients did. But why would a Sorcerer not be safe outside of Sulasia, yet the very people outside of Sulasia sent their children here to be educated? It was a strange paradox, and thinking about it made his head hurt.
The first place they visited was the library, and this time, they were allowed up onto the third floor. That was where all the tomes on magic were kept. It was a bit darker on that floor, and cooler, but there were many shelves full of books, and tables and chairs between them. There were also many people there, most of them Initiates but some Sorcerers, reading from ancient manuscripts, scrolls, and books. One small group of older men and women sat at an ornate table in the middle of the library, reading studiously from books so old they looked about ready to fall apart. There were many younger men and women surrounding this core of learning, laboriously writing in new books as they read from older ones. They were scribing, he realized, copying the pages of old books, about ready to fall apart, into new ones, so that their knowledge would not be lost as the books upon which the knowledge rested disintegrated with the marching of the years. Sevren explained to them that they were welcome to come to the library and read anytime they wished, but that they had to follow very strict rules of conduct and procedure. Each section of the library had a rating, and a Initiate of one grade was not permitted access to books that were too advanced for him. That would prevent accidents.
Next they were taken to a large room in the basement, a room that had many blackened scars on the walls, ceiling, and floor. Sevren called it a practice room, one of several, where Initiates could practice combat weaves in a controlled environment. Sevren warned that they would be here only with a katzh-dashi instructor supervising them.
Next they were taken up to the very top levels of the main Tower, to a huge room on the top level that had a ceiling that was vaulting tens of spans high above, and had a huge symbol laid into the floor. It was the shaeram, the symbol of the katzh-dashi, and Tarrin stared at it for a moment. It was the same as the one he wore around his neck, but this one had color. The circle around the perimiter was green, and the four-sided concave star in the center was white, with a black point in the middle. The points of the six-sided star between them were red, orange, yellow, blue, indigo, and violet, laid out in such a way that their corners met perfectly and did not overlap. Tarrin noticed that what he thought of as a six-sided star was actually six triangles carefully laid out tip-to-tip, so that each triangle made contact with the circle and the triangles to each side. Tarrin was quick to make the connection between the colors and the seven grades of Initiation. They were also the seven colors he saw during the Test. Each color represented a sphere of Sorcery.
"This is where you will learn Ritual Sorcery," Sevren said. "Under the careful guidance of teachers, you'll learn how we can link our powers together in a combined effort, where the whole is greater than the sum of its individual parts. But it's a very delicate and dangerous procedure, so it will be a while before you stand in this room again. You have a great deal to learn beforehand. Come along now, we have one more place to visit here in the main Tower."
Tarrin stepped out onto the symbol curiously, putting his paw down on it. There were no tiles, but it wasn't paint either. No seams, no edges, but the colors began and ended crisply and perfectly. It was as if they'd changed the color of the stone that made up the floor. The stone was curiously warm, and he noticed a faint tingling buzz behind his ears. And how quiet it was.
Too quiet. He couldn't hear the footsteps of the others as they filed out of the large double doors in front of him.
He stood up and rushed off after them-
– then rebounded off something that wasn't there.
Tarrin shook his head and touched his nose delicately, feeling it bend a little bit. He had impacted something solid, and yet there was nothing in front of him. He shook off the impact and put his arms out in front of him, then started forward again.
And his paws struck something solid. Something that simply was not there.
It had no sense of texture at all. As if it were made of the slickest glass, like it was solid air. It went up as high as he could reach, and it went all the way down to the floor. Keeping his paw on it, he started walking, and found that it went around in a circle, precisely following the outside edge of the green circle laid into the floor. When he came back to where he started, he began to get nervous.
He was trapped inside.
Extending his claws, he tried to rake the surface of this curious barrier, but they simply slid along the surface harmlessly. He felt no pressure against his claws at all, the pressure that told him that they'd hooked into something. It simply was not there. Yet it was, because he couldn't get through it. Whatever it was. He looked up, and at seeing the ceiling some fifty spans over his head, he wondered just how high up it went. Bunching his legs, he vaulted up almost fifteen spans, but the pressure against his paws told him that it did indeed extend well and far upward. He landed lightly and tried to quell the sudden rise of the Cat in his mind. He was trapped inside this strange symbol, and the feeling of imprisonment was starting to upset his animal half. The Cat had an instinctual fear of imprisonment, and he had to fight against an instinctive compulsion to flee, to try to get free by any means possible. Now was the time for thinking, not for panic, and it took him several moments of wrestling to convince the Cat that this was not a trap that could be broken out of. But thought out of.
Allia appeared in the doorway. She said something-or at least he thought she did, for her mouth moved-and she motioned for him to come with her. Tarrin put both paws on the barrier and pushed, then waved to get Allia's attention, but she was already half turned around. "Allia!" he shouted, then he realized that if he couldn't hear her, then she couldn't hear him. Quickly changing tactics, he put his paw around the amulet and used the unspoken manner of the Cat. So long as he could see her, she would "hear" it.
"Allia!"
She turned around, and he saw her mouth move, but he couldn't hear her. "Allia, get Sevren!" he told her in the manner of the Cat. She spoke again, then started moving forward. "I can't hear you!" he told her. "I'm stuck in some kind of magical wall!" He banged his paws against the invisible barrier to emphasize his point. "Get Sevren, Allia! Get him now!" Tarrin's fear and anger were rising, quickly, and it was obviously starting to show on his face.
"Calm yourself, my brother," she replied in the manner of the Cat. "Just stay calm. I will get Sevren, and he will get you out of there." She darted to the doorway, and by the movement of her chest and mouth, she was shouting at the top of her lungs. But he couldn't hear so much as a whisper. "He's on his way," she told him as she started towards him.
"No!" Tarrin said quickly. "We don't know what this is. Stay back until Sevren says it's alright."
"You may be right," she agreed, holding her position about ten paces from him.
Sevren and the other Initiates appeared in the doorway. Tarrin saw Sevren's mouth moving, but he couldn't hear the words. He saw Allia turn and start talking to him, pointing at Tarrin, who had his paws on the barrier and was leaning against it, then made a few imperious gestures. Sevren approached him with an intrigued look on his face, then he stopped at the outside edge and said something. Tarrin shook his head and beat his fists against the barrier. Then Sevren stepped over the edge of the circle.
"-know what it is," his voice simply started. "Can you hear me now?"
"Yes, Master Sevren," he said with an explosive sigh. "How did you get in?"
"It's a standard Warding Circle," he said calmly, like a scientist studying an experiment. "It's a device-" his voice stopped as he stepped outside the circle, and then resumed as he came back in "-contain-er, sorry. It's a magical ward the Mages use to contain the creatures they conjure up from other places. It only works against creatures of magic. I guess that classifies you as such a creature," he said clinically. "Interesting. I'll have to research this."
"Can we do that after you get me out of here?" Tarrin demanded sharply. "I don't like being caged!"
"Hmm," he said, peering at the floor. "I can't see the weave. Oh, wait, yes, this isn't a spell. It's a Ward. Hold on, I need to puzzle this out. Give me a minute." He was quiet for a moment, and actually knelt on the floor and studied the green circle. "A Mage's Circle has symbols of power," he said absently. "Those have to be here. If we can destroy one of them, then the Circle will be broken, and you can get out. So they had to hide them with magic," he reasoned.
"Wait, you can get out if you're a human?" Tarrin asked. "What if I change into a cat?"
"Try it and see," he said after a second's thought.
Tarrin nodded, and quickly assumed his cat shape. That made a couple of the Initiates, including Keritanima, gasp in surprise. Tarrin approached the edge cautiously, then felt the ends of his forward whiskers brush up against something solid. He pushed forward just to be sure, and felt his nose come into contact with the barrier. He changed back with a disgusted look on his face. "No, it's still there," he grunted.
"Try going human," Sevren suggested.
"I-" he started to say that he couldn't, then he remembered Jesmind saying that they could take on a human shape, but only for a very short time. "I'll try," he said. She said it would hurt, so he closed his eyes and clenched his paws into fists, getting ready for it. Then he formed the image of him as he was in his human form, then willed the change.
It was like being dunked in boiling pitch. Every inch of his skin seemed to catch on fire, and his bones began to throb. His blood was like liquid fire in his veins, and his heart began to pound like he'd run across the world with the four moons on his back. He almost fell to his knees under the sudden blazing pain, but he remembered that he was doing it for a reason. He staggered forward, hands out, desperately trying to get over the boundary of the circle before it killed him.
But his hands struck that same invisible barrier.
With an explosive release of breath, Tarrin resumed his normal shape, and fell to his knees panting. A sheen of sweat was glossing his skin, and he was holding his chest in one paw as his tail thrashed violently, nearly tripping Sevren. "Lad, are you alright?" Sevren asked in sudden concern, putting his hands on Tarrin's back. Tarrin felt the icy sensation of Sorcerer's Healing rush through him, and the icy cold froze away the pain and washed most of it out, but it didn't take away the aftershock or the memory.
"Don't you ever ask me to do that again!" he hissed, still panting furiously. "I don't think I'll ever walk right again!" Jesmind had endured that? For six days? He had a very powerful new respect for his bond-mother. He looked at his paw, seeing familiar pads and fur and claws. He could still feel the tingling in them.
"Alright, so you can't just change shape to get out. Hmm," he mused, helping Tarrin stand. "I guess what makes you what you are doesn't change, no matter what shape you wear." He went back to looking at the floor. "I can't see the weaves hiding the runes. They must have stranded them somehow. But they couldn't do that," he said. "Only a Sorcerer can hide a weave."
"Stranded?"
"A technique to hide a weave from a Sorcerer's probes," he said absently. "You charge the weave so it can sustain itself, then stretch-nevermind, it's too hard to explain. I'm going to need some help. Stay calm, I'm going to go outside to tell someone to fetch some katzh-dashi. We can erase the runes with Ritual Sorcery, whether we can see them or not." Sevren stood up and stepped outside the barrier, pointing at the blond young man and then motioning him off. Tarrin looked at the floor, trying to fathom what Sevren was talking about. There were symbols on the floor that were making the magical barrier in which he was trapped, symbols that had to be erased. But were they inside or outside? Maybe he could scratch-
The air suddenly became very cold, and a familiar smell saturated the air, the smell of death. A smell Tarrin knew too well, one he would never forget.
The smell of a Wraith.
To: Title EoF