Chapter 11

        It coalesced from the dark shadows that seemed to swirl up from the floor, the immaterial taking form, condensing into the shadowy body and glowing green eyes that Tarrin had seen twice before.  The air was bitingly cold, Tarrin's breath misting before him, as if it too was trapped inside the barrier and was isolated from the warmer air outside.  The undead shade grew into its full height, and its glowing eyes blazed with sudden evil eagerness as it started to move.  Despite the fact that Tarrin was more than a head taller than the undead creation, he had the sensation of being trapped in a cage with a rampaging bear.

        It was all an elaborate trap, designed to trap him inside with the Wraith.  But knowing that didn't help him at the moment.  Baring his fangs, he growled at the creature, the Cat boiling up in his mind to try to wrest control from him.  But the Wraith was unimpressed at his show of threat, advancing on him at a slow, almost leisurely manner, almost as if it knew that Tarrin had nowhere to run.  It reached for him lazily, and then was surprised when Tarrin was simply not there.  Tarrin was ten spans over the creature's head, having vaulted straight up.  He pushed off the barrier behind him and landed on the far side of the symbol, quickly taking in his surroundings.  The symbol was about ten paces across, which was very little room to maneuver, but he had an unlimited ceiling with which to work.  If he had a chance to use it.  The Wraith turned around quickly, its eyes glowing in hatred as it advanced on him again.

        Tarrin struggled with the Cat for control as it tried to get him to fight, to fight as any cornered animal would when threatened with death.  But the Cat didn't understand that this was not an enemy that could be battled with teeth and claws.  Tarrin had seen the creature put its hand through a man's chest.  It was a body without substance, which used its deathly cold as its weapon.  If he tried to rake it, his paw would pass through it, and he would probably lose his paw.  The Wraith seemed to understand this, and it was taking its sweet time to close the distance, almost allowing Tarrin to contemplate his fate.  Then it struck at him again.  Tarrin dodged it easily, dancing away, putting his back to the barrier, then rolling to side as it took yet another swing, staying out of its reach.  It staggered forward, then it too struck the barrier and rebounded.

        It was trapped in here with him.

        It rushed on him with sudden, shocking speed, a single arm lashing out from the side.  It struck Tarrin high in the side, and Tarrin screamed in pain as the shadowy hand raked its insubstantial fingers against his ribs.  Pain blazed along his side as he lurched away from that hand, and he staggered forward as the Wraith seemed to stop in confusion.  Tarrin, however was not confused.  It made perfect sense to him, as the words of Dolanna came back to him, spoken so long ago.  You are a creature of magic, she had told him.  You can only be harmed by fire, magic, acid, silver, other creatures of magic, and weapons of nature.

        Other creatures of magic.

        The Wraith's hand had not passed through his body, as it had done so with the man before, and it was what the Wraith had obviously expected to happen.  It had struck him, made actual contact.  The cold of the grave was still there, but it struck his skin, and while it had frozen the flesh and muscles around his ribs, it did not go deep enough to reach his vital internal organs.  And Tarrin realized one other truth in that physical contact.

        If it could touch him, then he could touch it.

        His eyes lighting from within with their green fire, Tarrin snarled at the creature once more and spread his paws wide, claws out.  He embraced the Cat in that instant, becoming one with his animal half, and he felt it shunt his human awareness off the side to let the Cat deal with the situation.  He was going to need every advantage he could muster to kill the Wraith without getting his face frozen off.  His united whole squared off against a now tentative Wraith, but the Wraith was compelled into its action by the magic that had created it.  It was there to kill Tarrin Kael, and that was what it had to do.  It rushed forward with its hands out, but Tarrin slithered to the side and raked his claws against its exposed flank.  Icy pain blasted up his paw as the cold conducted through his claws, but he ignored it in his animalistic rage, doubling every second as he fought for his life.  His claws ripped through the shadow that made up the Wraith's side, peeling some of it off to evaporate like mist exposed to the heat of the sun.  Tarrin backed away, shaking his paw vigorously as it turned around, a grim smile on his face.

        He could hurt it.  If he could hurt it, then he could kill it.

        And it seemed to understand that as well, for it came at him like a raging beast.  It punched and kicked at him, but Tarrin avoided contact with those lethal shadowy limbs as much as possible.  He could not avoid forever, and soon he was blocking them with his forearms, feeling pain blast through his arms every time the blocked a fist or foot.  His paws became numb, but his claws were frozen in place out of their sheaths, and his muscles were locked in their raking positions.  He was struck again on his hip, making Tarrin howl in pain and sending a deadly numb wave down his right leg.  Tarrin jumped back from a wide sweep, almost collapsing around his numbed leg.  Some semblance of human awareness came back to him.  The Cat seemed to realize that brute force wasn't going to win this, so it seemed to draw on Tarrin's knowledge, on his experience and skills, and on his intellect.  His human consciousness began guiding the Cat's instincts.

        The Wraith attacked with amazing speed, but Tarrin was suddenly a ghost himself.  The creature struggled to reach the Were-cat, but Tarrin was always just out of reach.  His tall, supple body flowed around the Wraith like water, weaving like a blade of grass in the wind, bending but not breaking, always close to hand but evaporating like mist when it went to touch.  Tarrin danced around the undead creation thusly for several frenzied moments, flowing away from its viperlike strikes, and retaliating with rakes of his claws into the monster's shadowy body.  But where the Wrath found nothing but empty air, Tarrin's claws found purchase, stripping away puffs of its insubstantial body.  The Wraith moved faster and faster, became more and more desperate to find Tarrin with its hands, but the Were-cat was always just out of reach.  It scored several minor hits, touches on Tarrin's blocking arms, and it also managed to get a grip on Tarrin's braid.  He felt the cold conduct right through his hair, freezing his scalp, but when the Wraith went to jerk the Were-cat's braid, it broke off from his head, then shattered on the floor when the Wraith tossed the frozen braid aside.

        Tarrin was in worse shape than he led the creature to believe.  Warm blood soothed the agonizing frozen flesh on his side and hip, where his skin and muscle had torn around the unbending frozen places where the Wraith had touched him.  Each strike on him, each forced block, stole more and more of this warmth, and he could feel the chill of the grave settling into his bones, slowing him down and causing biting pain to flow through him like blood.  Tarrin was growing weary as his energy was literally sucked away with each glancing strike, and he was panting heavily.  He had to end it, and end it fast, or the Wraith would kill him.  There was no help from outside, but Tarrin didn't blame any of them.  Even Allia would be no help to him against this creature.  He knew that dancing any more would weaken him too much.  It was time to attack the Wraith head-on, injury be damned.  It was a choice between risking a swift death and ensuring a slow one.

        He turned on the Wraith with no warning, and he attacked it with such savagery that the Wraith was taken aback.  Claws ripped considerable wisps of shadow away from its body, taking out its right eye, as Tarrin struck at it again and again and again, driving it backwards.  Tarrin felt its hands strike him in the side and chest and shoulder, but he ignored the Wraith's blows and concentrated on ripping it to shreds as quickly as possible.  The Wraith actually backed up to get away from him as Tarrin assaulted it furiously, ignoring dreadful wounds to his shoulder and chest and neck, not feeling the side of his chest rupture around a frozen expanse of flesh and send blood pouring from him in such a rush that it fell to the floor in rivulets.  Tarrin was beyond pain, beyond feeling, beyond thought.  There was only the Wraith, and his mind had focused down to the single goal of destroying it.  Tarrin did sidestep when the Wraith reached for his face, slamming his claws down on its right arm with enough force to tear the shadowy limb from its body at the elbow, a limb that fell to the floor and evaporated like mist.  The Wraith fell to the ground, and Tarrin jumped on top of it, ignoring the instant freezing of his knee and foot, holding the Wraith down with one paw on its chest as his other paw rose up over his head, then drove down like a striking snake.  The claws drove right into the shadowy head, right through it, driving the tips of his claws into the stone beneath.  The Wraith made a curious keening wail, then its entire body simply evaporated like smoke before the wind.

        In his rage, Tarrin started looking around for his enemy, but it was nowhere to be seen.  Then the pain hit him.  He arched his back and howled in agony, as if a thousand red-hot lances drove into him, and then he mercifully passed out, falling into a half-frozen pool of his own blood.

        Outside, Sevren held tightly onto Allia with both hands, ignoring the struggling Selani's desperate cries and savage oaths and promises to kill him.  Sevren knew no weaves to affect a Wraith, and they had been moving about inside with such ferocity that no other weaves would have been useful.  To allow Allia to rush in there would have killed her, and maybe Tarrin too.  Sevren didn't like standing helpless outside, but under the circumstances, there was nothing else he could do.  He'd had the presence of mind to send another Initiate out to find a Sorcerer, any Sorcerer, with healing ability.  Sevren himself could barely ease the pain of a scratch, let alone seal it.

        With the Wraith vanished and Tarrin passed out, Sevren released the Selani and followed her as she rushed towards the Were-cat, who was laying in a pool of blood that was expanding at an alarming rate.  Then the Selani rebounded off the ward with enough force to knock her down.  Sevren paid her little mind, reaching out his hands to test for an invisible barrier, but there was none.  He passed into the circle and instantly felt the biting cold against his skin.  He almost knelt in that pool of blood, but he remembered at the last instant what a danger Tarrin's blood posed to him.  He wove a weave instead, freezing it solid, then used another weave to drag Tarrin's body out of the red circle.  Kneeling, he put his hands on Tarrin's chest and wove yet again, thawing the frozen flesh of Tarrin's body and restoring his body's warmth, heat that had been bled out by his blood loss and the touch of the cold of the grave that came with the Wraith's shadowy hands.  He worked quickly and carefully, else his warmth actually cook the flesh of his patient rather than thaw and warm.  Tarrin's body began to shudder violently, and his teeth chattered with such force that blood started flowing from his mouth.  Sevren saw with some horror three of Tarrin's fingers, claws driven into the stone, broken off from the hand that had driven through the Wraith's head.  Tarrin's arms were almost frozen solid from the repeated touches of the Wraith.  Tarrin's shirt was soaked with blood, plastered to his chest and sides, and it was starting another pool of crimson around his torso.

        Then another was beside him.  It was Koran Dar, the Divine Seat, and one of the most powerful healers in the Tower.  Koran Dar put his hands on Tarrin's chest, and the Were-cat's shuddering instantly stopped.  Sevren stood after Koran Dar nodded to him, his hands covered in Were-cat blood, and then he stepped outside the ward.  A strange feeling on his hands made him look down, and he saw that the blood on his hands had been stopped by the ward's power.  Two small spots of red were on the floor over where his hands had pass through the ward.  The Initiates were gone, even the Selani, and in their stead stood the Keeper and her secretary, Duncan, as well as Ahiriya and Amelyn, two of the Council.  "Tell me what happened," the Keeper said in a hissing voice, through clenched teeth.  Her features were tightly controlled.  She looked about as mad as a bear with a hornet in its mouth.

        Consicely and quickly, Sevren related to her the events.  "I was trying to see the runes of the warding circle when the Wraith appeared," he said quickly.  "Tarrin pushed me out of the circle, and before I could put together any kind of spell, they were moving around too fast for me to try anything.  Then the Selani tried to rush into the circle with a dagger," he sighed.  "It was all I could do to keep her outside.  If she'd have gone in there, it would have killed both her and Tarrin.  Tarrin actually managed to kill the Wraith, and when he did, I rushed in to help him as best I could."

        The Keeper was silent for an agonizing moment, a moment where Sevren saw his life pass before his eyes.  "You did what you could," she said in a grim voice, one that made Sevren take an involuntary breath.  "I can't even see the runes."

        "I know," he said quietly, not wanting to press his luck.  "I've never seen its like.  Will Tarrin be alright?"

        "We'll know as soon as Koran Dar works with him.  For now, link with us and help us break the Ward holding him in."

        Sevren nodded, and in seconds, the runes that made up the Ward flared into brilliant light, then winked out of existence as the combined power of the Keeper's circle destroyed it.  The ward's walls shimmered, then vanished, and a wave of cold air that carried the smell of death and blood washed over them.  The Keeper broke the circle, her eyes furious, but her voice tightly controlled.  "Ahiriya.  Amelyn.  We raise the Ward immediately.  I'll not have one more attempt on Tarrin.  Not one."  She grunted.  "Amelyn, gather the others, and as soon as Koran Dar stabilizes Tarrin, we'll raise the Ward."

        "Yes, Keeper," the dark-haired woman replied.

        "Ahiriya."

        "Yes, Keeper?"

        "I want every Mage in Suld driven out of the city.  I don't care what it takes.  I want the Priests too afraid to leave their churches.  I want them to know that when the Tower is displeased, the consequences are not worth the risks."

        "It will be done, Keeper," she said quietly.  The look on her face made it clear where she thought the blame was.

        "I want whoever did this found.  Alive," she grated.  "I'm going to kill him myself."

        "It will be done, Keeper," the fiery-haired woman repeated.  Sevren knew that it was one of the jobs of the Fire seat.  Hers was the task of running and arranging the things that were not exactly within the bounds of law and propriety.  She ran the Tower's spy networks, and it was her responsibility to make those who made too much trouble for the Tower "disappear".  It was a job for which she was well suited.  Ahiriya was born to a noble family in Draconia, where policital intrigue, betrayal, and assassinations were as common as livestock and clouds.  She performed her unusual duties with a savage efficiency that made the others in here rather unique profession very nervous and wary.  Nobody crossed the Tower, and Ahiriya was one of the reasons for it.  No doubt Ahiriya blamed herself for this attack; it was her responsiblity to know what was going on, both in the Tower and out in the world.  The attacks on Tarrin had probably driven the woman crazy with their subtlety and cunning.  This one, by far, had to be the most cunning yet.

        Two Tower guards had arrived with a litter, and they were carrying the limp form of the Were-cat away, with the Selani walking beside him, holding his huge hand in hers.  Sevren noticed that the hand again had five fingers, and looked for all the world like no damage had been done to it.  Concern for the young man in his eyes, Sevren followed the litter out of the chamber.

        He missed seeing the Keeper order the Were-cat's blood put into jars and stored in a safe place.

        Tarrin drifted in darkness for quite a while before he finally managed to claw himself back into awareness.  All of the pain was gone, pain that he didn't really remember that well, but he still felt cold in his bones.  The scents in the room were both familiar and unknown, as Allia's coppery scent mingled with the scents of Sevren and three or four others that he didn't know, and those scents mingled with the very familiar scents of his own room.  The bedsheets were freshly laundered, and one of the scents was thick with food, as if the person had just come from the kitchens or from dining.  The new pillow's goosefeathers were old enough to give up most of their goose smell, but had not been used, so the pillow had not  taken on the combined miasma-scent of the people who had laid their heads on it.  And underneath it all was the stony smell of age that the Tower itself exuded, a smell of stone exposed to air for thousands of years, a smell that he didn't even notice anymore unless he was paying close attention to his nose.  He felt strangely weak and very tired, and the voices he heard sounded curiously distant.  But he was awake, and didn't quite feel like going back to sleep, so he stirred and opened his eyes.

        Allia was there immediately, smiling down at him and patting his paw.  "Welcome back, deshida," she said in a warm voice, cupping his cheek in her other four-fingered hand.  "How do you feel?"

        "A little cold, but otherwise alright," he replied as he sat up in the bed, then scooted back so his back was against the headboard.  His clothes were folded and piled his desk chair, on the far side of the room, sitting in an upholstered chair that wasn't part of the furniture of his room, held some middle-aged woman he did not know--no, she was one of the Council members.  He recognized her dark hair and heart-shaped face.  Sevren was standing on the other side of the bed, along with a plump older woman wearing a gray dress of coarse wool.  Beside Allia's stool stood a very, very tall dark-haired man that Tarrin recognized as another of the Council.  "What happened?"

        "You were attacked by a Wraith," Sevren told him calmly.  "I'm sorry that I didn't help, Tarrin, but I don't know any weaves to affect a monster like that, and you were moving around too much to try anything else."

        "It's alright, Sevren," he waved him off.  It was coming back to him quickly, as the Cat gave up the memories of the nightmarish, whirlwind fight.  He reached up and put a paw on the side of his head, and felt short hair.  Very short.  "What happened to my braid?"

        "It broke off," Allia told him.  "You look slightly funny like that."

        "I imagine I do," he replied with a smile.  "It'll grow back by tomorrow," he told her.  "That's why I keep it long in the first place."

        The dark-haired man sat down on the edge of the bed and took Tarrin's face in both his hands abruptly.  Tarrin felt fingers of Sorcery flow into his body, searching, reaching, examining that which could not be seen.  This man was a powerful healer, Tarrin realized.  Probably one of the Tower's strongest.  "There's no permanent damage," he said in a deep voice, a very strong one.  Tarrin looked up at him, seeing high-boned features that were very strong and somewhat handsome.  He had no beard, and his skin was a strange dark bronze, almost coppery in color.  His black hair was done up in a single tail that flowed down his back to peek out from behind his right arm.  "I still don't see how you survived."

        "I agree," Sevren said ruefully.  "No offense, Tarrin, but that Wraith should have killed you with the first blow."

        "It can't," Tarrin said absently.  "At least, not without hitting me in the right place."

        "I beg your pardon?"

        "Dolanna explained it to me," he replied.  "It's a magical creature.  Well, so am I.  Because of that, we can hurt each other.  That means that I can touch it, and it can't help but touch me."

        "Ah," the dark-haired man mused.  "So it couldn't put its hand through your body."

        "More or less," Tarrin affirmed.  "It still hurt like anything, but it saved me from instant death.  And I think that's what got me stuck inside the symbol," he added.  "Sevren said it was a circle."

        "A Warding Circle," Sevren said.  "A mystical construction Mages use to protect themselves from their conjured creatures.  Magical beings can't cross a Warding Circle's perimeter.  I guess it also works on magical creatures that exist in this world to begin with."

        "I guess I could get in, but I couldn't get out."

        "No, it should have stopped you from entering as well," Sevren said.  "There was some kind of spell placed on it that made it dormant until a magical creature went in."

        "So, it was a trap," Tarrin said calmly.  "I expected as much."

        "Well, don't worry about that anymore," the woman sitting on the chair told him.  "The Council is taking steps to see that it doesn't happen again."

        "No offense, ma'am, but I'll believe that when I see it."

        "You missed that part," she told him.  "The Ward has already been raised."

        "Ward?" Tarrin asked.

        "The Ancients placed a tremendous Ward around the Tower, Tarrin," Sevren told him.  "It was woven into the fence.  When it's raised, it prevents any magic or magical creatures from entering the grounds.  It will stop the Wraiths and other magical monsters that have been attacking you.  It also totally absorbs any spellcasting on the Grounds that is not Sorcery.  If there are any Wizards or Priests here, their magic is useless.  Only Sorcery works."

        "So you see, young one, you are much safer now," the woman told him.  "Without magic, these mysterious enemies will have a much harder time getting to you.  And since we've increased the guard on the grounds, it will be that much harder."

        The copper-skinned man took his hands away, and Tarrin felt the magic fade from inside him.  "You are perfectly healthy," he announced.  "You'll be a little weak for a few hours, but that'll pass with a good meal and some rest.  I'll have a proper meal sent to you, but in the meantime, no strenuous activity and stay in your room.  Allia, stay with him and make sure he doesn't exert himself."

        "Yes, Master Koran Dar," Allia said with a flinty look at her friend.

        "Now then, we should leave Tarrin to his rest.  Come along, Mathilde."

        "Yes, Master Koran Dar," the plump woman piped in a voice too shrill for her size.

        Koran Dar and Sevren left the room, Sevren giving Tarrin a reassuring pat on the arm and a promise he'd come back later that afternoon to see him.  The dark-haired woman gave Tarrin a calm look, then left without a word.  Two men that had been standing outside his door quickly entered and picked up the fancy chair, then spirited it out of the room and closed the door behind them.  Allia got up from the stool and sat down on the side of the bed, her white hair falling from behind her shoulders as she leaned over him with a stern look on her face.  "You about scared me to death!" she told him in Selani.

        "I didn't do it on purpose, believe me," he sighed.  "Why didn't you come running in there?"

        "Because Sevren wouldn't let me," she grunted sourly.  "He's strong for such a thin human.  He wouldn't let go, even after I threatened to gut him with a dinner spoon."

        "He did the right thing, deshaida," he told her.  "You wouldn't have been able to help."

        "I know, but I can't stand aside idly and watch my brother fight for his life," she said in a voice thick with emotion.

        "I love you too, my sister," he smiled, touching her cheek with a furry finger.  "How long was I out?"

        "Not long," she replied.  "Master Koran Dar is a very strong healer."

        "I wouldn't notice," he said, "I don't even remember how bad I was hurt."

        "It was not pretty, my brother," she told him.  "The Wraith hurt you badly.  You even lost a couple of fingers."

        Tarrin held up both paws and wiggled his fingers with a smile.  "You can't keep a good paw down," he said with a chuckle.

        "I know, they grew back," she said.  "Koran Dar was very surprised."

"Well, at least this way, I didn't lose the whole day," he said thoughtfully.

        "How well do you think the Sorcerers can defend you?" Allia asked.

        "I'm not really counting on them," Tarrin replied, leaning back some.  "I think this magical ward of theirs will slow this Kravon person down, but I doubt it'll stop him."

        "Wise," Allia agreed.  "Always expect the worst.  That prevents nasty surprises."

        "There's more we need to talk about," he said.

        She nodded in acknowledgement.  "You should be able to move about by this afternoon," she said.  "As long as you don't push it.  We can do it then.  For now, how about a nice game of stones?"

        Tarrin laughed.  "Anxious to put me back out, I see," he said with an impudent grin.  "Go ahead and get the board.  I can lose a few times before this meal arrives."

        They were close to the end of the first game when the meal arrived.  It was a large affair that took up four trays, but the smell of the food seemed to break a dam of starvation in his stomach, and he attacked the food with wild abandon.  Tarrin seemed to understand that it was the healing that did it, both his own regeneration and the strength-sapping healing that the Sorcerers employed, but that didn't make him any less ravenous.  He polished off the entire meal and went back to the game, losing to Allia and then starting a new game.  At about noon, Koran Dar entered the room and gave Tarrin an exhaustive examination.  Tarrin was starting to get a bit annoyed at the prodding and magical searching inside his body.  Koran Dar even opened his mouth and took a look at his teeth.  "How often do you bite your tongue?" he asked.

        Tarrin blinked in surprise as Koran Dar let go of his lower jaw.  "I used to bite it alot," he replied.  "Sometimes clear through."

        "I noticed," he said.  "Those teeth look like they could be painful."

        Tarrin unconsciously ran his tongue over his altered teeth.  They looked more or less human, except all of them were sharp.  They either ended in points, or in sharp ridges along molars.  His elongated fang-like incisors were the greatest sign of that part the change had rendered on him.  "Not really," he said.  "Sure, it hurts, but then it heals over."

        "I've been meaning to ask you about something," Koran Dar said.  "You grew back fingers that you lost in the battle."

        "I know, Master Koran Dar," he said, holding up his hand.  "I guess we regenerate lost body parts.  I know I can regrow teeth.  Allia has knocked some of them out."

        The tall, dark-skinned man gave the chocolate-skinned Selani a curious look.  She smiled at him and reached under her Initiate shirt, then pulled out a simple leather thong around her neck, that had six teeth hanging upon it.  Three of them were obviously Tarrin's fang-like incisors.  "Just a reminder to my brother for when he gets stupid," she said with a faint smile.

        Koran Dar laughed richly.  "You remind me too much of home, Allia," he said with a warm smile.

        "If I may ask, where is your home, Master Koran Dar?" she asked.  "I have never seen a human that looks quite like you."

        "I come from the Southern Continent, Sharadar," he replied.  "Actually, from a series of islands off the northeast coast of it."

        Tarrin made the connection instantly.  "You're an Amazon?"

        Koran Dar nodded.  "I know, we don't often leave our islands," he said.  "I, well, let's just say that I decided to avoid an unpleasant marriage arrangement when I was very young.  The ship that granted me passage docked in Den GauchË.  I discovered I had the Gift, so I found my way here."

        "My father told me stories of the Amazons," Tarrin said.  "He said--well, you shouldn't be here."

        Koran Dar nodded.  "I know.  I think I'm the only male Amazon outside of the isles of Amazar."  According to his father's stories, the Amazons were a race ruled by female warriors.  They were fierce and strong, and they ruled almost fifty islands in a large chain of the northeast coast of Arathorn.  Amazon law was that all men were property, even men that made their way to their islands by accident.  Men were the submissive sex on the Amazon Isles, though they were by no means weak.  Koran Dar was a good example of that.  He was tall, very tall, lean and graceful, and the way he moved told Tarrin just how strong the man was.  "You should stay in bed for two more hours," he ordered.  "Just to give your healing a chance to set.  Then you may get up and move about, but no strenuous activity for at least a day."

        "Will he be able to take to the training field tomorrow, Master Koran Dar?" Allia asked.

        "Fighting?  Yes, he should be up for it," he replied.  "I think he'll be whole by tomorrow morning.  Now then, I have other matters to attend.  Be well, both of you."

        Allia got up and bowed to him in the Selani manner as he left, then she sat back down on the side of the bed.  "Now then, we were about to start another game," she prompted, putting the stones board back on the bed in front of her.

        Later that afternoon, after Allia had gone to bathe and eat, Tarrin wandered idly around the gardens.  He did so for nearly a half an hour, feigning intense interest in the flowers and trees, making the other visitors lose track of him.  Because of who he was, many eyes followed him, both the curious and those who were there to keep their eyes on him.  He entered a confined area of small shrub trees bordering a large trellis holding thick climbing vines, then he managed to evade the other garden visitors' line of sight and change form.  Now small and inobtrusive, Tarrin slinked easily through the gardens and entered the hedge maze.  Allia was probably already there, waiting for him, as they'd agreed upon as they played stones.  They didn't come out and say it, cause both of them were aware that someone was probably listening to them.  He simply asked her if those roses of hers were still pretty, and she told him that he should go take a look at them.  That was all both of them needed.  Tarrin didn't trust speaking to her in the manner of the Cat, because if she could understand it with magic, then so could others.  He had no doubt that some Sorcerer about knew a spell to make that happen, so it didn't make that method of communication secure.

        She was in there.  Her scent trail was strong on the ground, and Tarrin used that as his guide to lead him into the center of the maze.  It took him only a short time to get into the center courtyard, where Allia was tending the large rose bushes behind the fountain, the fountain which held the statue of the Goddess who had spoken to him.  It had been a very long time since he'd been in the courtyard, and the sight of the statue momentarily overwhelmed him with a feeling of warmth and security.  Almost as if it emanated from the statue itself.  It was as beautiful as he remembered.  The statue's marble face was still carrying that utter perfection, that smooth flawlessness.  The body was just as perfect and tall and lithe as he remembered, and the statue's hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back in frozen waves, the detail so fine that he could see the individual strands in the tumbling mass.  The peacefulness of the courtyard was still there, and it soothed him, welcomed him, made him feel as if, in all the world, this was the one place where he would be safe.  The sound of the bubbling of the fountain's water seemed to soothe him, and the faint rustle of the roses and flowers in the courtyard as the wind caressed them made him feel a tug for the wide expanses of the tractless forest.

        He changed form absently, adjusting his shirt a bit as Allia turned around at the faint sounds that he made as his large feet slipped across the thick, lush grass at the edge of the courtyard.  "You're late," she chided in Selani.

        "There were alot of people in the gardens," he shrugged.  "It took me a while to find a secluded spot."

        "What did you want to talk about?" she asked, coming over and sitting on the marble bench before the bubbling fountain.

        "A few things, actually," he replied, sitting down beside her.  "I guess the first would be--"

        There was a faint noise outside the choked-off opening.  The sound of branches being moved, very carefully.  He stood up instantly and rolled his paw to Allia as he padded towards the opening.  "Oops, sorry," he said in false contrition.

        "That's alright," she said in a voice that lacked the sudden wariness showing on her face.  "I don't think you tore it."

        Though he doubted that the eavesdropper could understand the words, he had to be impressed by Allia's ability to think on her feet.  He rolled his paw at her again as he approached the opening with one paw out, claws extended.  "Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about?" she continued.

        Tarrin was there.  His paw lanced into the ragged wall of irregular branches that choked off the opening of the courtyard, striking like a viper.  His claws and fingertips hit the border of a heavy material, and they closed around it.  It was the bodice of a dress.  He yanked back, dragging the wearer of that bodice through the branches quickly.  In a explosion of green and brown, the red dress of an Initiate was yanked into the courtyard, and the wearer of that dress had reddish fur and a tail.  Tarrin threw the figure to the ground, where it made a squeak of surprise.

        Tarrin looked down into the hot eyes of Keritanima, the yellow orbs blazing up at him as her face screwed up into a near-snarl, showing just a little bit of her formidable canine teeth.  "What did you do that for!" she demanded.

        "You should know better than that," he shot back at her, reaching a paw down and offering it to her.  Allia's eyes were flat and hostile as Tarrin helped the Wikuni to her feet, where she brushed off her red dress and then delicately checked the front of her dress for rips.  The neckline was askew, from where Tarrin had grabbed it, showing a considerable amount of fur-clad cleavage.

        "I should slap you for putting your hand down my dress!" she barked at him in a tiff, straightening her bodice and then adjusting the plain leather belt around her slim waist.  "You don't go pawing a lady!  It's impolite."

        "So is eavesdropping," Tarrin replied.

        "I wasn't eavesdropping," she sniffed.  "I was trying to figure out how in blazes you got through there.  And I certainly didn't want to get yanked through like a--my, what a lovely statue," she said, her tone going from annoyed to sincerely impressed in a heartbeat.

        "Allia, I'd like you to meet Keritanima," he said to his Selani friend.  "The real one."

        "The Brat Princess is real enough," Keritanima winked.  "Pleased to meet you," she said, holding her hand out to Allia as if she expected the Selani to kiss it.

        "She is different," Allia said.  Allia did nothing to accept that hand, crossing her arms under her breasts and giving the Wikuni a strong look of distrust.

        Tarrin nodded.  "She screwed up her act and I figured it out," he said, to which Keritanima sniffed disdainfully.  "I promised to keep her little secret.  I was going to tell you about it, so you didn't kill her in a pique."

        "I doubt she'd have gone that far," Keritanima said calmly.

        "I beg to differ," Allia said with steady eyes.  "I came close to doing it five times during the morning."

        "Well, then I guess I'm doing something right," the Wikuni grinned toothily.  "I see they Healed you all up, Tarrin.  Are you feeling alright?"

        "Good enough," he said.

        "What are we going to do with her now?" Allia asked Tarrin in Selani.

        "You won't do anything with me, oneshai," Keritanima replied sternly in flawless Selani, using the Selani term for "near-stranger", which was a term to use with business associates and distant acquaintances.

        Allia gaped at her, and Tarrin chuckled ruefully.  "Where did you learn that?"

        "As a Princess, I'm expected to know all the languages of the peoples that we trade with," she said in an annoyed tone.  "You have no idea how many people we trade with," she said in exasperation.  "I still haven't learned them all.  It's a frightful bore."

        "I didn't know that the Wikuni trade with the Selani," Tarrin said.

        "I did not either," Allia admitted.

        "We trade with the Bloodwater Clan," she replied.  "They're the only ones that come close enough to the ocean for us to see.  We saw them about three hundred years ago, worked out a couple of trade pacts, and everyone's happy.  There's quite a market for Selani koufa fiber."  Koufa was the plant fiber that the Selani used to make their incredible clothing.  It was very tough, and very light.  It kept the wearer warm when it was cold, and cool when it was hot.  It wouldn't accept dye, so all of the Selani clothing was the same colors, the colors of different types of koufa plants.  But those colors were white, brown, and a beige that was almost the exact color of sand, which was perfect camoflauge in the desert.

        "Ah," Allia said.  "We don't have contact with that Clan.  They're too far south."

        "Then there you go," she said, walking away from them and sitting down sedately on the bench.  Her bushy fox tail swept back and forth a few times, then settled to a stop behind her.

        "How did you find us?" Tarrin asked curiously.

        "You're not the only one with a nose," she told him with a wink.  "Unlike most of the Wikuni, I have the senses of the animal as well as the looks.  Both of you have very distinct scents, and neither of you did anything to hide your trail."

        "Now what?" Allia asked Tarrin quietly.

        "Now, we talk," Keritanima replied for him, patting the stone bench beside her impatiently.

        "About what?"

        "About why it seems so odd that I find a Selani and a Were-cat in the Initiate at the same time as myself, when the Tower hasn't had a Non-human in the Initiate since before the Breaking."

That got Tarrin's attention.  Then again, he realized that Keritanima was a High Princess, someone that, being used to political intrigue, would quickly see the oddities.  He nodded to Allia, and they sat down on the bench beside Keritanima's after Tarrin moved it so they could face each other.  Tarrin gave the amber-eyed Wikuni a calm look.  "I've been curious about the same thing," he said.  "So I've decided to find out what's going on.  Since it seems to involve Allia, and now you, I think we should pool our knowledge and see if we can't work out some ideas."

        "Well, you've been here longer than me, so give me some background.  I can't work on something if I don't know anything about it."

        Tarrin and Allia then took turns telling the Wikuni about what they knew.  About the inordinate attention they'd been receiving, about the Keeper's gift to Tarrin of the amulet, and how it wouldn't come off, and about the multiple attacks by the mysterious unseen enemy.  Tarrin stressed that, at first, he thought that he was the target, then realized later that Allia had been present during all of them but one.  Two, now.  Tarrin told her about the conversations he'd had with the Keeper, about his mistrust of her, and her reactions when he gave her Kravon's name and with certain other things.  Then he went back to the attacks.  Although they wanted Tarrin dead, it was obvious that Allia was also on that list.  And because Keritanima was also a Non-human in the Initiate, a non-human that could do Sorcery, that put her at possible risk as well.

        "Now that you say that, I have to admit that what happened to us coming here makes sense," she said.

        "What?" Tarrin asked.

        "We were attacked six times by Zakkite ships," she said.  "The Zakkites dwell on the southern continent of Valkar.  They have a mighty navy, and they try to rule the twenty seas through force.  The Wikuni have been at war with them for generations.  We were attacked six times by sizable groups of Zakkite ships.  Each time, they specifically came after my ship.  After the first time, my ship was put at the center of the formation, I was transferred to another vessel, and more ships were called from Wikuna.  And that didn't help, because they came after my ship the next time, and the next.  Almost as if they had a spy in our fleet."

        "I don't think that's coincidence, but I don't see how some kingdom across the sea could be connected with what happened to us," Tarrin said dubiously.

        "If this Kravon fellow has the magic to send Trolls and Wraiths after you, then I don't see why he couldn't contact the Zakkites and tell them where I was, then pay them to try to sink me."

        "A bit far fetched, but possible," Allia agreed.

        "Far fetched works in politics," Keritanima shrugged.  "The more distance you can put between you and a murder, the less chance it comes back to you.  Alright then, I think we can say with some certainty that there is an attempt to get us--all three of us--out of the way.  We know what is going on.  We know, at least partially, who is to blame.  This Kravon fellow you mention.  Now we need to find out the other three questions:  how, when, and most importanly, why."  She got up from her bench and began to pace, her hands clasped behind her back, her furry brows lowered in thought.  "You say that the Keeper wasn't surprised about you finding out this name, and you said that you think that the Keeper may know what's going on.  So, we may be able to found out the why of it from her.  The Keeper's been around a while, so that's not going to be easy.  Any information she has is likely to be very hard to find, and what we can find will probably be defended."

        "I came up with the same things," Tarrin sighed.

        Keritanima gave him a grin.  "I think I could make something of you, Tarrin," she said.  "You made the right conclusions.  But the Keeper isn't the whole Tower," she said.  "The Council may also have some information laying around that we can use.  I don't doubt that the Keeper either told them what's going on, or had to talk very fast with them in order to keep them in line.  After all, I heard that it's going to take all of them to raise this Ward that's supposed to help protect us from the attacks."

        "I don't understand how that gives the Council answers," Allia said.

        "It's quite simple, Allia," she replied.  "The Council will obviously want a reason for why they have to put out so much effort.  When the Keeper says it's for Tarrin's protection, the next logical question is 'who wants to kill him?'  Well, for her to answer that, she'll either be giving them information that we need, or lying to them in order to secure their cooperation.  Either way, it's information we'll want to know.  If she gave them answers, then that's information that we can use.  If she lied to them, we can use that too."

        "How?" Tarrin asked.

        "Any number of ways," she said, turning to them and holding out her hand.  "One," she said, ticking a finger.  "Leverage.  We could use that information against the Keeper as a threat.  Two."  She ticked another finger.  "The very lies she tells may be useful to us, just for what she says.  The best lie is a lie that is sweetened with truth.  Sometimes those small truths can be added up together to form part of a real answer.  Three."  She ticked another finger.  "If she's lying then it's something that she doesn't want her council to know, or she doesn't trust them.  Either way, we'll know where to look for the information that we need.  Knowing why she lied may be useful itself.  Four."  She ticked her last finger, keeping her thumb tucked against her palm.  Tarrin noticed that she had a pad on her palm, and her fingers, the same way he did.  "If we know what those lies are, we can build on them ourselves in order to further our own interests.  All it takes is a little bit of creative thinking."

        Tarrin was impressed.  This was something at which the politically versed Keritanima excelled.  "You certainly don't seem like the Brat Princess right now," he laughed.

        She grinned at him.  "I have no idea why I told you.  I could have easily lied my way out of it.  I guess I trust you or something, which is a first."

        Or something, an impish voice called in his mind for the briefest of moments, and then it was gone.  Tarrin smiled to himself, both relieved and excited.  So his memories of that weren't dreams, or nightmares.  "I must say, I like this version of Keritanima much better than the old," Allia added.  "Your screams hurt my ears."

        "I practiced a long time to get them that way," she said with a laugh.  "You have no idea how much work it was for me to perfect that."

        "Why?" Tarrin asked.  "Why all this deception?"

        "Protection," she said with a sigh and a defensive tightening around her eyes.  "I have three sisters behind me, any of which would gladly plant a dagger in my back at the first available opportunity.  And that doesn't take into account the army of greater and lesser nobles, all of which view my untimely demise as an event worthy of a celebration.  Because they all think I'm a scatterbrained wastrel with no thoughts for anything but pretty dresses and jewels, they constantly underestimate me.  It's what keeps me alive."  She sat down again.  "To be very honest, I don't want the throne.  I'd be much happier anywhere else.  But whoever does take the throne after my father dies will track me down and have me killed, because I'll be a direct challenge to her power.  I could decide ten years down the road that I wanted the throne, and law would demand that she step aside in my favor.  There's no law for abdication in our country.  I can't just say 'I don't want the throne' and expect to be left alone.  I learned that when I was about seven years old.  And that was when the Brat Princess was born.  The only reason I'm still alive is because Jenawalani, Veranika, and Luralalena think that the only reason I'm still alive is blind luck."

        Allia gave the Wikuni a compassionate look, and Tarrin took her hand in his paw.  "It must have been awful," he said quietly.

        "Yes, well, one learns how to stay alive," she said with a sniffle.  "I spent my childhood learning how to convice people that my idea of a serious decision was whether to wear a silk gown or a satin one.  Sometimes people found out, and then I'd have to have them killed.  That happened quite a bit as I was starting out, and still learning."  Tarrin shuddered at the calm, matter-of-factness in her voice.  But he realized that he was probably no better.  He too would kill without mercy to protect himself.  "I've made it this far," she said with a wan smile.  "I've just got to live long enough, which isn't very easy.  Unfortunately, my game against my sisters has convinced most of the nobles that I'll be an absolute disaster as a Queen, so they've decided that Jenawalani, the next oldest, is a much better choice for the Diamond Throne.  When I'm not disrupting the scheming of my sisters, I'm dodging the assassins hired by the nobles.  After I take the throne, I can have my sisters exiled, so they'd have a great deal of trouble getting me killed.  I won't like being Queen much, but it's the throne or the grave.  And I'm not too happy about either choice."

        "Why not leave?" Allia asked.

        She laughed.  "I have, several times.  It looked like it was just an immature fit over not getting my way, but each of them were serious attempts.  You have no idea how far my father's arm can reach.  If I want to get away, I have to literally convince him that I'm dead.  But that's another matter," she said crisply, getting control of herself again.  "We have more important matters to handle here than my sordid past.  The problem is, we can't tackle them right at the moment."

        "I take it you want time to think about it?" Tarrin asked.

        She nodded.  "This is pretty complex, and besides, I haven't really had time to settle in yet.  I need to identify the agents that both the Tower and my father have watching me, so I'll know who to misdirect when the time comes to start getting serious.  That, and the Brat Princess can be very useful in gathering information.  You wouldn't believe how talkative some people can get when they think that you have no idea what they're talking about."  She chuckled to herself, then cleared her throat.  "We'll just have to wait for a while, until we've had time to come up with some ideas about how to go about this, and I've managed to gather up some information.  In the meantime, we go on as if this conversation never happened," she told them.  "That means that once we leave here, I'll be the Brat Princess again."

        "I understand," Allia said.  "I'll do my best not to kill you."

        Keritanima laughed.  "I appreciate that," she drawled.  "You can hit, just be gentle."

        "I can knock you down without so much as mussing your fur, shaida," Allia smiled.

        Keritanima all but glowed.  "And may I call you shaida?" she asked in a strangely formal, tentative voice.  As if she was afraid of the answer.

        "I would be honored," Allia returned, standing up and putting her hand on Keritanima's cheek.  Keritanima gave her a shy smile, then blinked.  "Uh, I have to go.  They'll be looking for me soon, and I can only say I was lost in the gardens for so long before it becomes illogical."

        "Alright," Tarrin said, standing up.  "How will we tell you--"

        "I'm a fast learner," she said.  "Isn't that such a lovely statue?" she asked, staring at it again.  "And look, roses.  They're so thick and well tended.  By the way, I'm pretty sure that they'll be following me, watching me, writing down everything I say, and probably inspecting my dirty shifts.  I think you two should expect the same kind of treatment, so be very careful.  The only reason I've gone against my every instinct about speaking frankly in an open area is because the place seems to be very well hidden, and it's too soon for them to really set up their eavesdropping network."

        "It is," Tarrin agreed.

        "This is the only place where we can talk freely," Allia added.

        "Good.  Now, just for my own sanity, please keep my indignities to a relatively low level," she grinned.  "The Brat Princess is afraid of Tarrin, and of you, but that makes her angry, so she'll overcome it eventually and start in on you.  You'll have to chastise me occasionally, but please keep it to a level where they don't have to call in a healer.  What Tarrin did to me keeps him off of my list for almost a good month," she grinned.

        "What did you do to her?" Allia asked.

        "I didn't tell you?"  She shook her head.  "Huh.  I threw her into the bathing pool."

        "So?  That doesn't seem so frightening."

        "He threw me into the hot end," she shuddered.  "And threatened to kill me if I bothered him again."

        Allia laughed.  "Yes, I can see how that would be memorable.  That water gets hot towards the far end."

        "I think it boiled some of the fur off my tail," she said absently, bringing her tail around and stroking the fur meticulously.  "Anyway, let's concentrate on ideas about how to solve these problems.  And I think we should start making plans for leaving."

        "Why?"

        "A wise person always plans for the worst," she told them.  "If the answers we get upset us that much, or we find out that they just wanted us to sacrifice us on some altar or something, we may decide that we like it better somewhere else.  One thing that we should keep in mind is that, when we leave, the Tower will come after us.  So we should learn everything we can about Sorcery.  It may be useful."

        "So, you're saying that for now, we should concentrate on Sorcery."

        "More or less," she agreed.  "We still have the problems to solve, though, so keep part of your mind on that problem.  I have to go," she said quickly.  "They'll be looking for me, and probably for you two as well.  Give me about ten minutes, then you may want to drift out yourselves.  I think we can set up another meeting relatively easily," she smiled.

        He nodded.  "Be careful, shaida," Allia told her.

        "I'm always careful," she said quickly, then she flashed Allia and Tarrin that toothy grin.  "Can I leave on my own, or do you want to boot me over the top this time?" she asked Tarrin.

        Tarrin laughed.  "I think you can find the way out," he told her.

        "I'm so glad," she grinned, then she turned and threaded her way through the choking branches.  Tarrin noticed that she did so without so much as shivering the leaves.

        "An interesting woman," Allia said after she was gone.  "She has a great deal of anger, and pain."

        "I can imagine, growing up being afraid of your own sisters," he sighed.  "I couldn't imagine Jenna trying to kill me."

        "She's strong, though," Allia said, tapping her cheek with a long, delicate finger.  "And full of surprises.  She had me totally fooled."

        "Yes, but I think she fools everyone, deshida.  She had me fooled, until she slipped up."

        "I think we're lucky that she trusts us with her secret, and that she agrees about what you had to say."

        "I'm sorry I didn't discuss it with you first, my sister--"

        "You didn't have time, my brother," she cut him off, putting her hand on his arm.  "I realized that this is what you wanted to talk to me about.  Well, you did so, with Keritanima here too."

        Tarrin chuckled.  "She certainly took us in hand," he said ruefully.  "I almost feel used."

        Allia laughed.  "She was just taking command of a situation she could easily understand," she told him.  "That, and no matter what she says, she is a Princess.  Even the intelligent Keritanima is used to being obeyed.  We may have to break her of that."

        "Now that, I'll pay to see," Tarrin grinned at Allia.

        "You may be doing the breaking," she pointed out.

        "Then it won't cost me that much," he said.  They waited in silence for a few moments.  "Go ahead and drift out, my sister.  I'm going to sneak out the other way."

        "Alright.  Be careful, deshaida."

        "You too, deshida."  Tarrin changed form, looked up at his now-gigantic friend, then slinked through the choking wall of branches and then wormed through a small hole in the shrub wall on the far side of the verdant passageway.

        The night was a long one, surprisingly cold for so early in autumn, as Tarrin mulled over what Keritanima had to say.  It was brief, but it made alot of sense.  So did her request to slow things down.  She had just gotten here, after all, and needed some time to settle in and get comfortable, but just knowing that she was going to be there to help was a tremendous relief.  He felt much better about what he needed to do, knowing that she was very, very good at this kind of thing.  After he woke up, some goodly time before dawn, he realized that nobody had told him what he was supposed to do.  His injury the day before had cut him out of the rest of Sevren's lecture and tour, and had probably ended it outright, but he hadn't been told where to be today.  He decided that asking Master Brel where he was supposed to go at sunrise.

        He and Allia were up well before dawn, and after a long bath, they handled breakfast.  Allia didn't know where he was supposed to go either, for she was supposed to meet a Mistress Jandi at a tutoring room in the main Tower, one of the places that Tarrin didn't see.  They parted in the Initiate's dining room, and Tarrin returned to the North Tower to ask Master Brel what he was supposed to do.

        As he reached the door of the Master of Initiates, a familiar scent touched his nose.  It was Dolanna, and it was only minutes old.  He quickly followed the trail, turned a corner, and found the diminutive, dark-haired woman standing calmly in front of his door.  She wore a simple blue dress of heavy silk, protection against the biting chill of the morning, and a wool cloak of a similar blue.  Her hair was done up in a series of curling loops that hung from the back of her head, from a silver coronet-like adornment.  Her dark eyes were warm and friendly as she saw him turn the corner, and she raised a hand to him with a smile.  "Tarrin," she said warmly as Tarrin smiled and took her small hand.  "I heard about your battle yesterday.  Are you well?"

        "I'm fine, Dolanna," he told her.  "Are you here to see me?"

        She nodded with a smile.  "Yes, today is your first day of instruction," she told him.  "For obvious reasons, they decided that I would be the best to begin your education."

        "Well, I'm so glad that they worry about my well being," he said dryly.  "Would you like to come in?"

        "No, we will go to the tutoring rooms," she told him.  "Come with me."

        They spoke in low tones as they travelled from his room to the main Tower, as Dolanna inquired about his time away from the Tower, and how he felt after his fight the day before.  She didn't speak of anything important, but the calm, cool looks she gave him, which were somewhat out of her character, convinced him that she knew that they were being watched.  He played along with her, being polite and using the proper terms of respect, even though his warm smile told her that he didn't feel any differently to her than he did before he got to the Tower.  In many ways, Dolanna had saved his life, over and over.  He had a very special affection for the small dark-haired woman, thinking of her almost as a mother, and he was one of only three people in the Tower he trusted with his life.

        The room she led him to was a very small one, that was not illuminated with a glowglobe.  Instead, three candles burned in a small candelabra that stood on a small table on the far side of the room.