Chapter 16

        "He did what?" the Keeper exploded from her desk, jumping to her feet only moments after taking her seat.  Amelyn, her face pale, stepped back from the diminutive Keeper, rightfully fearing to be singled out by the Keeper's wrath for the bad news.  The Keeper was notorious for punishing the messengers who were bearing bad news, and because of that, nobody wanted to be the one to break things to her.  Not even members of the Council could escape such wrath.

        The Keeper was in a foul mood.  Her appointment at the court of King Erick had not gone well.  Erick had men of learning around him to explain to him what the light from the Tower had been, and the legends of what it meant, and now he was starting to interfere with their plans.  Erick wanted Tarrin, and he wanted him now.  It was all the Keeper could do to remind the young, brash king, only two years on his throne, that the treaties between the Tower and the Crown could not be broken, nor could they be used to force the katzh-dashi to hand over their young charge.  It had turned into a shouting match, much to the shock of the court, a shouting match where truly ugly threats of invasion and magical retribution flew between the Keeper and the young king freely.  The Keeper had never liked Erick.  He was a spoiled wastrel whose only talent was finding men capable enough to run the kingdom in his stead, while he spent vast amounts of the kingdom's money on horses, palaces, and debauched luxuries.  He was lazy and hedonistic, interested only in his fortunes, his possessions, and his power as king.  He was such a disappointment coming from the line of Aralon, which had put a long succession of outstanding kings and queens on the Lion Throne of Sulasia for six hundred years.  Erick represented to the Keeper the end of the Aralon dynasty, and the noble houses of Sulasia were already beginning to jockey for position to succeed them.  The nobles were as dissatisfied with Erick as the Keeper was, and the Keeper didn't forsee him surviving long on the throne.  Erick wasn't stupid enough to understand this, and had managed to surround himself with competent people who were paid more than other noble houses could match, money that ensured their loyalty and his continued reign.  Erick was mad for power, but only for power that he didn't have to dirty his own hands to acquire.  That made Tarrin and the pending events very appealing to him.

        What King wouldn't jump at the chance to gain the powers of a God?

        It was already starting to look ugly.  Reports from the Tower in Sharadar had arrived, and the news was grim.  The Mage-King of Zakkar had already begun to mass his impressive array of army and navy, all reinforced by thousands of Warmages. The Emperor of Arak, the mightiest nation on the face of the world, was beginning to call in his legions from their war with the empire of Godan, which was itself a mighty kingdom on the continent of Godan-Nyr and Arak's longest and most hated enemy.  Nyr, the smallest of the Three Empires of Middle World, had remained carefully neutral through their larger neighbor's century-long war, but now it was massing its armies.  Even among the smaller kingdoms of the West, there was activity.  Arkis was building its own legions, and the mountain kingdom of Daltochan had closed its borders.  Draconian knights had begun attacking Dal mining caravans around the Petal Lakes, and the Ungardt had begun to call in their warships.

        It told Myriam Lar much.  Most of those nations were not surprising to see preparing, but others were.  The Ungardt had a dislike of magic, yet they seemed to know what was beginning to come to pass.  So did Daltochan, but the Dals were a strange people, taciturn and introverted, so it was hard to know what was going on on the high plateaus of their mountain nation.  But Arak, Zakkar, Godan, Nyr, Arkis, they all had mages in close attendance to the kings and emperors that ruled those kingdoms, and what had happened the night of the sign had sent magical shockwaves across the world that nobody who could command magic could miss.

        It had begun.  There was no disputing that now.  And Tarrin was the key.

        The world would descend into a war which would rival the titanic struggle against the Demons five thousand years before, a war to rival the Great Blood War.  And it would be fought over the possession of one man, a simple young farmboy from Aldreth.

        Tarrin was a Mi'Shara, a Man Who Once Was, and he was the key.  Not since the Ancients walked the earth had someone of his raw, unprecendented power graced the Tower.  Weavespinner, Were-cat, he fulfilled all the requirements set forth in the Book of Ages, before that ancient tome had disappeared.  He was of noble blood, but his blood was not human.  Nobody understood exactly what the term Mi'Shara meant, but it was a term from the Old Tongue that translated to mean He Who Was, or He Who Once Was.  Gender irregularities in the Old Tongue could also allow it to be translated to mean She Who Was, or She Who Once Was as well, depending on the context in which the word was used.  The strange thing was that the Book of Ages made no reference to his title, only to his requirements.  He would be a non-human of noble blood, who had the power to wield Sorcery.  Such beings were exceedingly rare.  The Sha'Kar, the vanished race that had occupied the Tower with the Ancients, had been the only non-human race to demonstrate an aptitude for Sorcery.  In a thousand years of searching, only two others had been found.  Allia and Keritanima.

        Nobody understood why these rare individuals were termed Mi'Shara.  Nobody understood what "Once Was" meant, because nothing ever said what they had once been.  All they had to work with was the passage in the Book of Ages that described them, nonhumans of noble blood who could wield Sorcery.  Tarrin, however, did seem to fit that term better than his female companions, because he once was human.

        What was even stranger was that it was written that the Mi'Shara were only the ones with the best chance of achieving the ultimate goal.  Anyone who knew where to go and what to do could also reach the ultimate objective.  That meant that half of the world would want to capture Mi'Shara, and Tarrin specifically, to get it for them.  The other half would be seeking to kill Tarrin and all Mi'Shara to prevent them from getting it first.

        It would have been much easier if it was written that only Mi'Shara could reach it.  That would make it easier for the Tower to protect their assets from capture.  It was much easier to protect someone from kidnapping than it was to protect someone from being killed.

        The Book of Ages.  If only she could hold that ancient, much treasured tome, if only once.  In that book was written the entire history of the world up to the Breaking, the last known copy of the book that had once been known as Denthar's Compendium.  The only book of ancient history that was not written in the indecipherable langauge of the Sha'Kar, for it had been scribed by the priests of Denthar, the god of knowledge and lore.  All of the books had been destroyed during the Breaking, except for one.  And that had been found in a trunk in a noble's manor just after the Sorcerers returned to the Tower.  Very little was known of the world before the Breaking, a time known as the Age of Power, when magic was so prevelant that the common farmer often utilized enchanted tools, and the most average layman knew a cantrip or two.  Before the Weave was torn.  Much ground had they regained since that horrible time, both the Sorcerers and the world.  The Weave had almost completely mended itself, though there were still a few places in the world where the Weave had not grown back.  Magic-dead areas, called deadzones, peppered the Known World, and were often populated by people who had gotten on the bad side of a Wizard.  Magic had returned to the world, but not as Sorcerers this time around.  It was the Wizards who were the most common type of magician, mainly because so many Sorcerers had been killed in the Breaking, and unlike Wizardy, Sorcery was an inherited power rather than a learned skill.

        The deaths of so many Sorcerers had almost scoured the gift from the world, and the diluted powers of the less gifted children who remained weakened considerably.  The Ancients were always careful to pair their most powerful members, so that their children would have the gift on both sides of their family, and be even stronger.  Such selective breeding vanished in the Breaking, and the inherited gift thinned through the years, until the Sorcerers returned to the Tower and again began to carefully nurture the inherited power in their members.  A selective breeding program had yet to be initiated, mainly because the Council had not yet garnered enough favor among the katzh-dashi for the idea.  Times had changed, and the culture had changed.  What the Ancients had done was no longer acceptable to the modern man, especially among the female katzh-dashi.  But in its own way, it had begun again.  Katzh-dashi did tend to marry within the order, if only because only another Sorcerer understood the rigors and demands of Sorcery.  And the children of these internal unions almost always displayed aptitude in the gift.  Amelyn was the child of just such a union.  She had been born and raised on the grounds, and the Tower and the katzh-dashi was all she knew and all she had ever wanted.  And she was powerful, ranking among the most powerful of the katzh-dashi.

        But even her power seemed insignificant compared to Tarrin.  He could somehow tap directly into a Conduit, and that awesome raw power would try to flow into him.  He couldn't control it.  The Keeper couldn't see how anyone could.  The power of a Conduit was all seven Spheres, just like a strand, and that meant that Tarrin was being filled with the power of High Sorcery.  The Sorcerers could only handle High Sorcery in circles, where the incredible demand and strain was spread out among a group.  But Tarrin had the raw power to be able to draw on High Sorcery alone.  And it was simply more power than even his considerable ability could control.  Circles, wielding High Sorcery, even they would not attempt to tap directly into a Conduit.  They would only try to draw the sphere of Confluence from strands.  The power of a Conduit was even more than a circle could control, and yet this young farmboy from a forgotten corner of Sulasia could tap directly into that awesome power, and he could do it alone.

        But being able to access it, and being able to control it were two different animals.

        It was a complicated problem, something that had occupied the Council's attention the entire day before.  They were already working on how they could help him overcome his problem, somehow resist the flood of High Sorcery and be able to work with normal flows and weaves.  They had wanted to study him, but the Keeper wouldn't be there to help out.  She had spent all day at court.

        And now Amelyn bursts into her office, and tells her that Tarrin refuses to accept any more training!

        "He will not come," she said in a quivering voice.  "He told me to tell you that he won't learn any more or do as we say until we lower the Ward and let him off the grounds."  She swallowed.  "He made it clear that anyone trying to force him to do anything does so at his or her own peril."

        "I will not tolerate rebellion in my own Tower!" The Keeper said in an absolute explosion of fury.  "That boy will learn now just who holds his leash, I swear it!"

        "Keeper!" Amelyn gasped.  "Tarrin isn't entirely stable!  If you push him, he'll go mad, and then what use will he be to us?"

        "I don't care," she snapped.  "I want Tarrin back in class, and I want it now.  He has got to be ready, and this new problem of his is going to jeopardize things as it is.  We absolutely cannot allow any delays."

        "But if he goes mad?"

        "Then we'll just have to find a way to reverse it," she snapped.  "We don't have any more time, Amelyn!  Don't you understand that?  We have to take risks now!"

        "I think the risk you're talking about is too great," she said.  "All he wants is to be allowed off the grounds to visit his family.  That is not an outrageous demand."

        "It is," she said grimly.  "I just came back from court, Amelyn, and King Erick knows about Tarrin.  He demanded that we hand him over to him.  Now more than ever, we have to protect him, because Erick's not the only one that's going to come after him.  If someone else takes him, or someone kills him, then where will that leave us?  Or Sulasia?  Or the world?  The Wikuni and the Selani don't have his power, Amelyn.  I don't know if they can do it.  Even if I have to keep him chained in a cell, we're keeping our hands on that boy.  And when the time comes, we'll release him to do what must be done."

        Amelyn looked about to say something, but the door to her office burst open, and an infuriated Darvon marched in.  He looked completely enraged, and the Keeper inwardly groaned.  Darvon was almost too stubborn to handle, and it looked like he wasn't about to be put off by anything.  "Keeper, we will talk, now," he said hotly.  "We're going to have a little talk about Tarrin."

        Now what?  "What did he do now?" she demanded irritably.

        "Tarrin told me that you're keeping him trapped on the grounds," he said.  "He also told me that he has refused to do anything else until he is granted the same rights as the other Initiates."

        "He's being held on the grounds for his own safety, Darvon," the Keeper said calmly, but it was even clear to him that her voice was highly strained.  "Someone with considerable resources at his disposal is trying to kill him."

        "Yes, and I think you know all about that," Darvon retorted.  "What you're doing to him is wrong.  He has a phobia against being caged.  I think you know that too.  Well, he told me that he's taken as much as he can stand with being caged on the grounds.  If you don't let him out, he's going to end up hurting someone."

        "He'll just have to endure it, Darvon," she told him.  "It's much too dangerous for him to be outside of our protection."

        "And what of his decision to strike against you?"

        "That won't last long," she said in a sudden growling voice.

        "So, you would oppress your own people, when all they want is to be treated like everyone else?" he asked pointedly.

        "He's not everyone else!" she said in sudden fury.  "He's a Were-cat, and he's as dangerous to the people of Suld as he is in danger!  He stays on the grounds, because it keeps him safe, and it keeps Suld safe from him!"

        Darvon gave her a calm look.  "I see," he said.  "Then that is your choice."

        "You better believe that it's my choice," she said with a hot look.

        "Fine.  I should tell you, then, that we have long considered Tarrin and Allia to be our own.  And not long ago, I decided that they have indeed earned the right to have their names on our rolls.  I have Knighted them both."  The Keeper's expression went from anger to horror in the blink of an eye.  "Because Tarrin feels himself treated unjustly, he has decided on a non-violent means to solve his problem.  As Lord General, I fully support the actions of my Knight.  Furthermore, our code demands we do the same."  He said that last with a slight, evil little smile.  "We are All One Under Karas.  So, the Knights hereby withdraw their support from the Tower and the katzh-dashi until such time that our Knight is treated with the respect due to his station.  All Knights will remain on the grounds or in the chapterhouse, and all Knights in the field are going to be recalled."

        "You can't do that!" the Keeper gasped.  "Tarrin's an Initiate, bound by the oaths of the katzh-dashi!  He can't take the Oaths of the Spurs as well!"

        "He didn't," Darvon said with a wicked smirk.  "He is Knight by title only.  We lay no claim on his services, but his station does grant him the right to our support.  So, you can keep trying to control him, but know that the Knights will fight you every step of the way."

        "You fool!" she said explosively.  "Do you have any idea what you are doing?  What you're jeopardizing?"

        "Oh, am I throwing sand into the plans of the katzh-dashi?" he asked mildly.  "And what plans would those be?"

        The Keeper gave him a furious look.  "What I'm about to say goes no further than this room," she told the Lord General.

        "Keeper, is it wise--" Amelyn began, but the Keeper cut her off.

        "Amelyn, if Erick knows, then Darvon won't be long in finding out," she said dismissively.  "And perhaps Darvon can help us get Tarrin back under control."

        "What are you talking about?" Darvon asked suspiciously.

        "Sit down, Darvon," the Keeper said, motioning at one of the chairs in front of her desk.  She sat down as he did, and then she calmly explained the entire situation to him.

        Darvon's eyes rose, widened, and more than once they gaped at her in shock.  But it was the truth, the real truth, and he knew it.

        And it made his blood run cold.

        After he regained his composure.  "I may understand why it's necessary, but you have a very edgy Were-cat on your hands, Keeper.  It would be wise to give in to his demand.  Tarrin is unbelievably stubborn, and if you push, he'll just dig in his heels and won't budge.  I think we can reach a compromise that gives him his freedom while still keeping him protected."

        "I'm listening," the Keeper said after a moment.

        Bandit was the name that Keritanima had given to her cat, and he had a personality to match that title.  He was michievious, fearless, and he absolutely would not mind the Wikuni at all.  He held himself aloof from the Wikuni princess, and his imperious manner irritated her to no end.  The cat should know, after all, that it was being addressed by royalty.  Entire armies would obey her commands, and she was one of the most important women in the world.  The very power of life and death was being held by her, capable to use as she saw fit, and the blasted cat still had the nerve to claw up her curtains, tear up her bedding, and use her favorite chair for a scratching post.

        More than once she considered passing sentence on the rebellious feline for crimes against upholstery, and have Binter execute it on the spot.  But she needed it. And as if it could understand how important it was, it did whatever it wanted with absolute impugnity.  But then again, cats always did that anyway.  It wasn't like it was intelligent or anything.  It just had no idea who it was dealing with.

        And thus began the brief but memorable war between Keritanima and Bandit.  But the High Princess of Wikuna discovered, to her chagrin, that the the cat was even more stubborn than she was.  No matter what punishment she used, the cat simply would not get it through its thick skull that what it was doing wasn't acceptable behavior.  Even getting a pitcher of water dumped on it wasn't enough to keep it from tearing up her curtains.  That was when Keritanima resorted to Sorcery.  After discovering that Bandit didn't like loud noises, she wove together a weave that created a loud bang every time she caught him doing something that he wasn't supposed to be doing.  It was a loud noise, it went everywhere, and it soon had all the Initiates on her floor complaining.

        And it perfectly concealed her conversations with Miranda when she needed to speak to the pretty little mink Wikuni about things she didn't want Jervis to know.  She had no doubt that Jervis had his pet priests using spells to eavesdrop on them.  After several ear-shattering explosions, however, she doubted that he'd be listening for long.

        Miranda was sitting on the bed behind the Princess, brushing out her hair with smooth, even strokes.  Miranda was a cutie, by any race's standards.  With high, wide, impish cheeks and a pink button-nose, her animal features enhanced a more humanoid face than normal Wikuni.  Miranda's muzzle was very short, and her mouth was much more humanlike.  Her white fur almost passed as skin, and she had a very thick head of blond hair that cascaded down her back like a fur cape.  She parted it to the side, and a huge plump of blond hair stood over her eyes and face, which bobbed and swayed every time she moved her head.  Her round mink ears popped out from that thick head of hair, just making her look cuter.  Miranda was very cute, very sweet, and she seemed very innocent.  And she was a very good actress.  Miranda had been personally trained by Keritanima in all things underhanded, and Miranda was as smart as she was pretty.  She was very good.

        After giving any eavesdroppers an earful, Keritanima sat calmly as Miranda gave her the daily report.  Rumors and innuendos passed from Miranda's lips as often as things brought in by the wide network of spies that Miranda had helped set up, workers and servants as well as people specifically hired from the city and brought in to root out information.  Keritanima had a very comprehensive list of all the freelancers that worked in Suld, and several of them were now on her payroll.  She had agents at court, in the King's bedchamber, and three of them in the Cathedral of Karas.  She had several more scattered through the noble villas, and the whisperings of the nobles found their way onto her desk, in triplicate.  If she really wanted to know, she could find out what the Duchess of Ultern had for breakfast that morning.

        And by now, Jervis had just as extensive an operation.  Jervis had a larger budget, and he didn't have to work while keeping his identity a secret.  She had no doubt that Jervis was receiving all the information she was, and perhaps a little bit more.  Jervis had access to the communications of the priests of the Wikuni, something that Keritanima didn't enjoy.

        So she managed to buy off a member of Jervis' staff.  Now a copy of everything that crossed the rabbit Wikuni's desk ended up on her own as well.

        Keritanima listened calmly as the mink Wikuni brushed her hair.  Even Miranda's voice was cute, a high yet rich voice that seemed to go perfectly with her deceptive appearance.  The focus of her report was the meeting, or more to the point, the shouting match, between the Keeper and King Erick Alaron.  "My sources tell me that they really got after one another," she continued to her employer.  "Erick threatened to use his army to overrun the Tower, and the Keeper threatened to bury Suld in a blizzard.  And all of it was over Tarrin."

        "Did you find out why?"

        "Not yet," she replied.  "All I know right now is that Erick knows something about Tarrin, and that it makes him very, very important.  Erick demanded that the Keeper hand him over to the Crown.  It's not something that Erick's talked about in open court, and it's been hard information to come by.  I bought one of Erick's mistresses last week, and I arranged it so she's spending tonight with him.  She'll drag it out of him.  She's very good at that.  I'll have a detailed report for you tomorrow at lunchtime."

        "Very good," Keritanima replied calmly.

        "You know, you should think of starting to wear your hair up," Miranda told her, grabbing two handfuls and lifting it up from her shoulders.  "It's getting long.  Maybe swept over to one side, with a gold chain woven into it.  Yes, that would look pretty."

        "You think so?"

        "Yes, it would make you look more mature," Miranda told her.

        "Why don't we try it?" she asked.  "Didn't we bring some chains?"

        "I have some in my room," she assured her.

        Something told him that today was going to be rather eventful.

        Tarrin pulled his red Inititate shirt over his head, flexing his paws absently after pulling the tail down to his trousers, listening to the sounds of activity coming from Allia's room.  He knew that it would be eventful because the Council had had almost a full day to mull over Tarrin's demands, and he was positive that they'd return with an answer for him.  It would have to come before class, he knew.  Tarrin's instincts told him that time was starting to become a precious commodity, and they wouldn't wait around.  He wasn't quite sure how he knew that, but he did.

        Alot of things had been weird to him since yesterday.  Tarrin had finally calmed down over the achievement of his childhood dream, and it also allowed him to explore the strange feelings he had towards the Goddess.  She had been right, he had never been an overly religious person.  The concept of loving a deity was indeed new and strange to him, but it was something that he couldn't deny in himself.  Something about the Goddess had touched him on a very deep level, on top of the genuine affection and trust he felt in her.  She had always spoken plainly to him.  She didn't treat him like a child, and she had made it clear from the beginning what she expected of him and what she wanted from him.  Tarrin's Were-cat nature seemed to accept that kind of treatment willingly.  Better an honest enemy than a dishonest friend.  It was why Jesmind had gone off the deep end after he left her, because she thought that he lied to her, and that shocked her values to the core.  Tarrin was more cynical and, in his own way, more worldly than his fiery bond-mother.  Jesmind was born Were, and her preconceptions of the world had been set for her.  She lived in a very small world full of others that shared those values, and no matter what she said, her ability to function in the human world wasn't as good as she thought.  Jesmind would accept whatever anyone said to her as the truth, until it was obvious that he lied.  And then she would punish the liar, if she could catch him.  Tarrin wasn't quite as trusting as Jesmind.

        That made him approach the Goddess from a defensive standpoint, and she had managed to worm her way through his defense and into his heart.  But, being a Goddess, Tarrin realized that she knew exactly what to say to manage to pull that off.  But his trust in her, his faith, wouldn't let him believe that she was using him.  He could tell that she wanted something from him, something that she hadn't said yet, but she had also made that clear, nearly from the beginning.  If he asked her straight out if she wanted him to do something for her, she would answer honestly.  Tarrin could respect that.

        But over it all, the towering love that he felt in her presence, both from her and from him towards her, told him beyond anything that his heart had been won over.  She had indeed got herself another follower.  But the strange thing was that he had no idea quite how to take it.  He understood what gods were, but the Goddess seemed to break all the molds.  She wasn't a distant, all-powerful voice that was to be obeyed blindly.  She was more like a person than a god, with her own personality, and even a quirky sense of humor.  Senses of humor weren't often associated with divine beings, and that sense of humor made her seem more real than if she were to manifest her true power before his eyes.  Tarrin felt a very powerful personal connection to the Goddess, and he wasn't sure if that was how she wanted him to feel towards her or not.  But that was tough.  That was the way he felt, and he wasn't about to change it.

        And something told him that that suited the Goddess just fine.

        She'd captured him the very first time she talked to him, he realized.  When she gave him permission to lie, when she explained what she expected from him, she had him.   That planted a deep seed of trust in him that had bloomed into love and sincere faith.  She could very well have demanded him to obey her every command, and he would have been bound by both honor and his Were need for honesty to obey.  But she allowed him to make his own choices, even allowed him to lie.  That had been it.  Everything else had just been waiting around for him to make that one simple conclusion.

        Tarrin sat down on the bed calmly, holding up the shaeram that graced his neck, studying it.  Its black steel shimmered in the light of the cloudy morning pouring through his window.  It was the symbol of the katzh-dashi, but it was also the holy symbol of the Goddess, and its design held many meanings.  Dolanna had explained them to him once, long ago.  But it was what the Goddess had said to him that had been gnawing at him since last night, a night spent reading a book on theology he got from the library.  The shaeram is for her, just as yours is for you and the ivory one is for Allia.

        The Keeper had given him this shaeram, and alot of the hostility he felt for her was directly attributed to it.  Yet the Goddess said it had been for him.  And the other two had been direct presents from the Goddess to Allia and Keritanima.

        Did the Goddess make the Keeper give him the amulet?  Just who had placed the weave on it that kept it from coming off his neck?

        Sometimes the Goddess seemed to be listening, and sometimes she didn't.  He knew that she could hear his thoughts.  She called it listening to his heart, but it was more like listening to his head.  He wondered if he could incite her to listen to him.

        "Goddess?" he called tentatively.  "Are you there?"

        Only because you'd be very disappointed if I weren't, she answered impishly.  Make it quick, kitten, you have no idea how busy I am at the moment.

        "What do you mean by that?"

        Your faith is very tentative, she replied calmly.  If I weren't to answer, you'd start thinking that what you feel, and what you think I feel for you, are wrong.  I can't answer you all the time, kitten, but when it really matters, I'll be here.  You were wondering who chained you to that necklace, weren't you?  Tarrin didn't answer, and he suddenly felt very guilty for even thinking of accusing the Goddess.  Well, I know this will sting, my kitten, but though I didn't place the weave, I fully support it being there.  You can't lose that amulet, Tarrin.  It's absolutely imperative that you keep it, and it was the only way to make sure that nobody could take it from you.  So I nudged the Council into making sure that it won't come off.  That keeps you from losing it, and it keeps others from taking it off of you.

        "If you can nudge the Council, why don't you nudge them into stopping driving me crazy?"

        Things aren't that easy, my kitten, she said.  We don't take direct actions like that.  You know that.  I'm the patron goddess of the order, but that doesn't mean that they all do what I say all the time.  The katzh-dashi have duties to perform, the same as the Knights.  So long as those duties are being performed satisfactorily, I really don't have the right to intervene.  I don't like a great deal of what goes on in that Tower, but I have rules to obey the same as they do.

        "But you're the Goddess," he said in consternation.  "They have to do what you say!"

        Kitten, many mortals don't listen to their gods, she told him simply.  And I hate to burst your bubble, but need I remind you that I'm an Elder god.  You read that book that explains the distinction last night.  Well, we may be more powerful than the Younger gods, but we have more stringent rules on how we can use our power to affect mortals.  Human society simply doesn't fall into our sphere of influence, kitten.  I can't directly take matters into my own hands, or I'll get in trouble with Ayise.

        That seemed strange.  He did read the book, and understood the difference between the Elder and Younger gods.  The Elder gods were the ten gods created at the beginning.  First there was Ayise, the Allmother, and she bore the other nine.  The Elder gods represented the primal forces in the universe, the forces of nature and the forces of life.  Earth, air, fire water, time, creation, life, death, and magic, those were the forces that were represented by the ten Elder Gods.  The Younger gods are all those gods who came after the Elder gods, after the human civilizations took hold.  Civilizations that had a need for gods to look over them, gods that weren't busy with running the universe.  Many Younger gods had spheres of influence that overlapped the Elder gods, like Talon, who was the Younger god of the forests that also fell under the influence of Leia, Elder goddess of nature, but many Younger gods occupied niches that the Elder gods did not.  The Younger gods represented civilization and human nature more than elemental forces.  Love, war, hatred, peace, these were represented by Younger gods.  Many Younger gods were patrons of entire kingdoms, the way Dallstad was god to the Ungardt, Karas was the god of Sulasia, and Sheniia was goddess to the island folk of the Stormhavens.  But some gods, like Talon and Dommammon, god of the moons, overlapped with the Elder gods, and when they did, the Younger gods served the Elders in that regard, taking a bit of the burden off the Elder gods and letting them have more time to deal with mortalkind.  The Elder gods were different from the Youngers in that they couldn't be destroyed.  A Younger god's power was tied to the mortals who worshipped him, and if there were no worshippers, the Younger god died.  If the Younger had been born mortal and ascended into divine status by other gods, then he returned to being a mortal, to live out his natural life.  But Younger gods born of other gods, or who were created to fill a need, these simply died.  The Elder gods were true immortals, and they existed without the need of mortal followers.

        And because they didn't need mortals, that restricted their ability to interact with them.  All the Elder gods had temples and priests, just like the Younger gods, but the Elder gods didn't gain any additional power by this association the way the Younger gods did.  From what the Goddess was saying, an Elder god couldn't really put a hand into the world unless it directly affected one of their own worshippers.

        Precisely, she confirmed.  And even with our own people, we are somewhat limited.  Because we only give power, we do not get any in return, it is considered a gift and not a symbiotic relationship.  That means that we can't be as demanding as the Younger gods in what we want our priests to do, mainly because it isn't something that we couldn't do ourselves.  Unlike the Younger gods, we Elder gods can and do directly affect the mortal world with our power, so we don't really need priests.  The Younger gods have to work through their priests to directly affect the world when it doesn't involve their portfolio of control.  That's why that restriction is there, to keep us from taking our priests for granted.  It keeps us humble.

        "I'm still not sure I understand that," Tarrin said.

Tarrin, gods are powerful, but they're not wise, she told him impishly.  Many of us are just as immature and silly as humans are.  The Elder gods especially, because we really don't have to answer to anyone but Ayise.  Ayise saw this, so she put limitations on us so that our actions couldn't disrupt the mortal world.  Right now, I could, with a thought, kill every single living being on Sennadar.  It's within my power.  But I can't, because I have my own rules to follow.  Kitten, it's very complicated.  Let's just say that we have our own little hierarchy up here, and one of the rules is that Elder gods can't directly influence mortals.  Anything a mortal does at the behest of an Elder god is because they choose to, not because we force them to.

        "Alright, I can understand that.  But why can't you make the Council listen to you?  Couldn't you just take away their power if they disobey?"

        I don't give you your power.  You're tapping into the power that I maintain to keep magic in the world, so you're accessing my power without me directly giving it to you.  If you were priests, and I was supplying you with your magic, then I could make you do anything I want by threatening to withdraw my support.  But it doesn't work that way with Sorcerers.  To answer your question, no, I can't take away your power.  It's a natural ability, not a granted power.  They only way I could take away a Sorcerer's power would be to kill him, and I'd rather not bump off the ruling Council.  It would take me years to rebuild the order.

        "Just bring in priests to convince them."

        Kitten, I'm not allowed to have priests, she explained.  My association to the katzh-dashi came at a price.  To support the order, I had to give up priests, because an Elder god can only have one organized following of mortals.  It's part of our rules.  To make it a bit more plain, the Sorcerers are my priests.  They do do my work, kitten.  Sometimes I have to push them very hard, but they do it.  The situation makes it hard for me to directly control the katzh-dashi, because I can't force them to do what I want.

        "But isn't it a rule that no mortal can access more than one type of magic?" Tarrin asked.  "If the katzh-dashi are both Sorcerers and priests, then that's two orders of magic."

        Why, I do believe that you're right, she said in an impish voice.  That does seem to violate the restriction, doesn't it?

        "So you do grant power to the katzh-dashi," he said triumphantly.

        Only for important religious ceremonies, she replied calmly.  Consecration, rites, things like that.  No, I don't grant them priest's spells.  They don't need them.  They are Sorcerers, after all.  Not much of a threat for me to say "do what I want, or you can't consecrate ground anymore," now is it?

        "Oh," he said quietly, leaning back and thinking.  "I guess not."

        Watching you try to outthink me is very amusing, kitten, she told him with a silvery laugh.  If I weren't pressed for time, we'd be arguing all day, but I do have other things to do.  So we need to cut this short.

        "I'm sorry.  I didn't think about that."

        You are dear to me, kitten, but you're not the center of the universe, she teased.  Yes, I love you. There, your fears are abated.  Can I go now?

        Tarrin laughed.  That was something he certainly never expected to hear from a Goddess.  "Well, I guess so," he said.

        I'm so glad that I have your Royal permission, she said dryly.  I want you to think about something for a while, my kitten.  A puzzle for you.

        "What?"

        Isn't it curious that katzh-dashi are allowed to defy the rules?  Kind of makes you wonder why.

        "It does," he said honestly.

        Keep your eyes open today, kitten.  The answer to that riddle will be right in front of your face.  All you have to do is see it.

        And then she was gone, leaving him feeling hollow and empty inside.

        "Were you talking to someone, deshida?" Allia asked as she opened the door to the communal closet.  The fact that she was carrying her shirt in her hand and was topless didn't even register to him.  Modesty was a loose concept to the Selani, and Allia had no fear of walking into Tarrin's room nude.  She had done so, many times.

        "Sort of," he replied calmly, and she simply nodded and said no more.

        There was a knock on the front door, and Allia opened it without bothering to put on her shirt.  But it was only Keritanima.  She gave Allia a curious look as she came in, and her boxy muzzle had a worried frown on it.  She waited for Allia to close and lock the door, then she started immediately.  "We're going tonight," she said in Selani.  "Things are starting to happen.  We have to move."

        "What happened?" Tarrin asked.

        "I had an informant close to the king, and I was supposed to get some important information from her today," she said.  "Well, this morning she turned up dead.  She was poisoned.  I think someone's trying to put a leash on my operations.  I think it's Jervis, but I have no idea why.  He has no real reason to interfere."

        "Why do you think that?"

        "Because I bought a man in Jervis' office, and by now Jervis knows about it," she replied.  "He'll try to feed me misinformation, but I bought the man to keep Jervis' eyes off the fact that I'm using Sorcery to rifle his desk."

        "What?" Tarrin asked in surprise.

        "Lula taught me a weave that lets me see into places where I can't usually see," she replied with a smirk.  "I have to be rather close to where I want to look, though.  That's the only drawback.  I'm literally looking over his shoulder when Jervis is reading his daily reports."

        Tarrin laughed, and Allia smiled.  "I knew you were devious, sister, but that is masterful," she said appreciatively.

        "Only what, less than a month since you touched the weave, and you can already weave Illusions and other spells," Tarrin said respectfully.  "You're a natural, Kerri."

        She shrugged.  "Lula thinks so too," she said.  "She said she's never seen someone that can learn weaves so quickly.  I hate to burst her bubble, but it's only because I can precisely recall things I see.  All I have to do is see her weave a spell once, and I can copy it perfectly.  Then she just has to explain how to alter the effects with varying the flows, let me practice it a few times, and I'm set."

        Keritanima once told him that she could just remember everything she reads.  When Tarrin asked his father about it, Eron called that an eidectic memory.  Whatever it was, it was proving to be a godsend.  In a shockingly short time, Keritanima had already progressed further than most Initiates who had been so for years.  With Tarrin incapable of using his power, and Allia just learning how to control it, she was much, much more important than either of them in this little game.

        "Anyway, something's going on, and it looks like someone else is actively trying to stop me from finding out what.  So that means that we need to step things up," she continued.  "We're going on our field trip tonight.  Dress warmly."  She sat down on the chair.  "I hate moving so fast.  After all, I've only had my network up for a couple of weeks at the most."

        "What is this 'week'?" Allia asked.

        "A Week is a Wikuni term for measuring days," she replied.  "There are five days in a week.  Kikal-day, Arga-day, Bor-day, Tori-day, and End-day.  Two of our weeks make up one Selani March or Sulasian Ride, which are both ten days.  My men are reputed to be good, but I haven't had the time to settle them in," she fretted.  "Robbing the Cathedral will make things tense, and I just hope they can deal with the increased security."

        "Why not send them instead?" Tarrin asked.

        "They don't know what to look for," she countered.

        "Neither do we," Allia pointed out.

        "Well, we have a better chance of figuring that out than they do," Keritanima said defensively.  "Besides, I think the three of us will be rather good burglars.  With you two's stealth and my experience, we should be able to pull it off without raising a whisper."

        "Experience?  You've done this before?"

        Keritanima gave Allia a wolfish grin.  "Many times," she winked.  "I was a thief before I was the High  Princess, Allia, and the increased attention forced me to stop sneaking off.  I was trained by the best in Wikuna."

        "You have had quite an education, Kerri," Tarrin chuckled.

        "A girl has to have a hobby," she said with a wink.  "We'll discuss the plan tonight, before we go."

        "You have a plan?" Tarrin asked.

        "Tarrin, you never go thieving without a plan," she told him with a huff.  "The planning is the most important part."

        "I thought you just snuck in and took things."

        "That's sloppy work," she said critically.  "The objective of a thief is to take the most valuable things in the fastest possible time, without getting himself caught.  A good thief makes a plan.  He knows where he's going and what he's looking for before he ever sets foot in the place he's robbing, because that maximizes the profit while minimizing the danger to himself.  I have a copy of the plans for the Cathedral, including most of their secret passages and chambers.  We'll meet in my room after dinner and make our plan."

        "But we don't know what we're looking for," Allia said.

        "True, but because I have a copy of the Cathedral's plans, I have a good idea of where to look for it," Keritanima told her.  "There are three hidden rooms large enough to serve as a secret library.  Our plan will mainly focus on what path we take through the Cathedral to cover each room."

        "How did you get your hands on a copy of the Cathedral's plans?" Tarrin asked.

        Keritanima only winked at him in reply.

        "Have I told you lately that I love you, Kerri?"

        She laughed.  "I love you too, brother," she replied.  "I can't stay much longer, or Jervis will think I'm up to something."

        "You are."

        "But he's not certain of that," she winked.  "And Allia, remember to put your shirt on before you leave today," she told the Selani with a teasing smile.  "I'm sure you walking around topless doesn't bother Tarrin, but it'll give the other Initiates a fit.  Brel would probably have a heart attack on the spot."

        "Perhaps I should do that, if only to make the man shut up," Allia said sourly.  "I'm growing tired of his moralistic ravings.  I don't see why he can't understand that Tarrin and I are brother and sister, and not lovers."

        "Maybe he has those kinds of thoughts about his own sister," Keritanima said with a wicked little smile.

        "That's a very sickening thought," Allia grunted.  "Humans can be so depraved."

        "True, but they're interesting.  I have to go.  See you two in my room after classes."

        "We'll be there," Tarrin replied.

        "Hmm, maybe I should go knock on Brel's door bare to the world," Allia said with an evil look in her eyes.  "That man has been on me for days about our living arrangements.  He accuses me of being a harlot and a tramp, though he never comes out and says it directly, and it's obvious he thinks that I'm seducing you on a nightly basis.  Perhaps some revenge is in order."

        Tarrin laughed.  "I'm sure he'd appreciate it, sister," he told her with a broad grin.

        Allia meaningly put her hands on the waist of her trousers, and that sent Tarrin into gales of laughter.  It only intensified when she pulled them down, exposing her every intimate charm to him, and then stepped out of them.  She stood there wearing nothing but her boots, and that seemed to be even more amusing to him for some reason.

        "Excuse me for a moment, my brother," she said with a flat voice, though her eyes were dancing with delight.  "I have some vengeance to exact."

        "Have fun," he managed to say, as she opened the door, and then stepped out into the hallway wearing nothing but a pair of boots, her long silver hair, and a vicious grin.

        "Oh, I will," she promised, closing the door.

        Allia was a treasure.  He had no idea how he managed to live so long without her in his life.

        Tarrin started counting.  By the time he reached thirty, there was a strangled bellow from further down the hall, with Brel, Master of Initiates, telling Allia hysterically to go back to her room and put some clothes on!  About two minutes later, she calmly stepped back in through his door, and the look on her face was absolutely evil.  It only made Tarrin fall off the bed in bouts of helpless laughter.

        "That was definitely worth the effort," she said idly to herself.  "The look on his face will keep me smiling for a month."  She slipped off her boots, righted her pant legs from where they had been pulled inside out when she took them off, and then stepped back into her trousers.

        Perhaps it was the ultimate in bad luck that an enraged Brel opened Tarrin's door forcefully just as Allia bent down to pull her pants up, and she had her back to the door.  He took one look at the Selani's shapely backside, her posture leaving absolutely nothing to his imagination, and then he simply fainted dead away at the threshold.

        Tarrin was basicly a loss at that point.  It took him almost twenty minutes to recover control of himself, and Brel lay there the entire time, as other Inititates crowded around him around Tarrin's door.  Allia dressed herself with a calm certainty that told everyone she felt absolutely no shame in what she had done, and stood by the door and waited for Brel to wake up.  Her icy blue eyes kept the other Initiates from questioning her, and most simply meandered off to spread wild rumor and stories of the event to the others.

        After recovering control of himself, Tarrin stood up and gave Allia a grin, patting her on the shoulder just as Brel began to stir.  His eyes looked up at the pair blearily, then raw horror crept into them.

        "Never question my morals again, Brel," Allia told him coldly.  "Else what I do next makes this look innocent by example."

        The shrivelled old crotchety Sorcerer blanched at the cold-eyed Selani, his wrinkled face turning pale, then scrabbled to his feet and rushed away hurriedly.

        "You're an evil woman, deshaida," Tarrin laughed.  "And I love you for it."

        "I love you too, deshida," she said with a wicked little smile.

        Darvon's scent touched Tarrin's nose just as the man came into view at the door, with the massive Azakar trailing behind him.  "I take it you were having fun with Master Brel?" the aged Knight asked idly.

        "He could not accept that Tarrin is not my lover," Allia said bluntly.  "I decided that it was time for him to understand a few things."

        Darvon took one look at the hot-eyed Selani, and he chuckled.  "I'm sorry I missed it.  It must have been good."

        Just thinking about it made Tarrin laugh again.  "It was priceless, my Lord General," Tarrin assured him.  "I always knew my sister is an evil woman.  She proved it."

        Allia only gave Darvon a wicked smile, which made him laugh.  "I never doubted it," he said.

        "What brings you into the Inititate's quarters, my Lord General?" Allia asked.

        "Business, my sister, business," he said.  "I had a talk with the Keeper yesterday, Tarrin.  Some changes were made."

        "Really?"

        "She agreed to allow you off the grounds, but only if you give her a day's advance warning," he told him.  "But she refused to allow you to go alone.  So if you leave the grounds, you have to go with Azakar here to accompany you, and at least one Sorcerer.  You may be a Knight, but even you have to admit that someone is out to get you.  It isn't Knightly to refuse the help of the order, and we look after our own.  So Azakar here has been assigned to accompany you and act as your bodyguard, and you get to choose the Sorcerer you want to go with you.  You have to admit, this is much better than the complement of katzh-dashi that the Keeper was demanding on.  I had to make some ugly threats to bring the Keeper down to this."

        "Lord Tarrin," Azakar said with a curt bow.  Azakar was still a cadet, where Tarrin was a vested Knight.  That changed things between them, for Tarrin had always liked the massive young man, and Azakar had always treated him with courtesy.

        "I guess I can accept that, my Lord General," Tarrin said.

        "Good.  You've been granted permission to go see your parents right now, but you have to be back by lunch.  They want to return to your education.  Dolanna is waiting for you at the gate.  She goes with you too, and Faalken's going to accompany her."

        So they had been willing to compromise.  That told Tarrin a great deal.  They wouldn't suffer outright defiance from any other Initiate.

        Tarrin did indeed mean something to the Council.  This was complete proof for his long-standing suspicion.

        "Then can we go now?  I guess I don't have that much time to see my father, so I can't waste any standing here."

        "We just have one stop to make, Tarrin," Darvon told him.  "At the Academy.  Azakar here needs some new spurs."

        Azakar gave Darvon a stunned look.

        "Did you think that we'd let a cadet have a job as important as accompanying a Sorcerer, Azakar?" Darvon asked with a grin.  "You'll be going out there with the honor of the Knights to uphold.  It's better for everyone if it's your honor too, now isn't it?"

        "Welcome, my brother," Allia told the huge Mahuut with a gentle smile.  "It is time for my class.  Until later, Darvon, deshida," she said, giving Tarrin a quick kiss on the cheek, then patting Azakar's shoulder as she passed by.

        "Well don't stand there looking like a fool, cadet!" Darvon barked at Azakar.  "Let's move!"

        Azakar looked almost about to explode with pride.

        He was wearing a surcoat over his mail shirt and a pair of silver spurs that denoted him as a Knight, and he looked like he was about to faint.  Tarrin mused at it with a chuckle as they approached the gate leading out, where Dolanna and the cherubic Faalken stood waiting for them.  The air was crisp and noticably cool, but the bright sunshine belied the chill in the air.  The day was so crisp and clear that the individual colored lines of the Skybands were visible, which usually was only possible at night.  They were all the same dull white, but the faint lines that separated the colors were just barely visible, if one studied them intently enough.  Such a crystal-clear day was unusual.

        Tarrin greeted Dolanna with a warm smile and taking her small hands, and Faalken was already digging at the new Knight, teasing him about his newfound status.  They were surrounded by Tower guards, and people filed in and out of the grounds through the front gate.  Standing by the front gate were the Keeper, Koran Dar, Amelyn, and the willowy blond Council member whose name Tarrin didn't know.  Even from there, he could smell them, and they were all very anxious.  It permeated their scents.  They were afraid he'd go through that gate and then never come back, he was certain of it.

        The idea had crossed his mind a few times, but there was no telling what would happen to Allia and Keritanima if he did fly the coop.  They would all escape, but it would be a time of their choosing, and when the Tower had the least chance of getting them back.

        "Well, dear one, are you ready?" Dolanna asked.

        "I'm ready," he said.  "I'm surprised they're even bothering to send you three with me."

        "Why is that?"

        Tarrin only smiled at her in return.

        "Oh dear," she murmured.  "Just be careful, my young one."

        "Always, Dolanna.  Always."

        The four approached the Council members, who wordlessly linked into a circle.  Tarrin could feel the connection join among them, as if each reached out and joined invisible hands with the others.  He wasn't quite sure what was going to happen next, but Dolanna seemed calm and confident, and she payed the Council little mind as she smoothed her blue silk dress and wool cloak absently.

        Then, the hands of the four Council members started to glow in a ghostly white light.  The radiance that marked the use of High Sorcery.  A hole silently opened in the empty air in front of them.  It was surrounded by nothing, but the borders of that hole were limned in a pulsating bluish energy.  Tarrin could see that they had somehow punched a hole in the Ward, a hole that would allow him to pass through it.  He couldn't see what weave they had used to perform such an act, but it obviously involved all seven Spheres.  High Sorcery always involved all seven Spheres.

        "Be back by the tolling of the noon bell," the Keeper said in a tight voice, staring at Tarrin intently.  "Don't make us come look for you.  It won't be pleasant."

        "Like you could find me," Tarrin snorted as he stepped through the penetrated Ward.  He waited until Dolanna, Faalken, and Azakar were with him, and they stepped into the streets of Suld.

        It was the first time he'd ever been in the city during the daytime.  The streets were filled with people, dressed in all manner of clothing but sharing a common theme of warmth against the chill of the late autumn day.  Sulasian doublets and breeches and long-hemmed dresses dominated the streets, but the occasional woolen mantle of an Arkisian, or the waistcoats and unusual appearances of the Wikuni were also rather common.  Even the ruffled shirts and coats and tight-fitting pants called hose favored by the ShacËans.  Several fur-clad Ungardt were strolling through an intersection, giving way to a horse-drawn open carriage that was occupied by a pretty middle-aged woman wrapped in an expensive velvet-lined cloak.  A Torian woman, whose multitude of tiny braids clearly marked her city of birth, seemed to be haggling with a rough-faced Dal who wore the slate gray pants and brown cloak that were common among them.  Suld was a city of trade, the largest city on the western coast, and from the city, on the well-maintained roads that criss-crossed the kingdom, goods travelled to Daltochan and northern ShacË, even into southern Draconia and Tykarthia.  Sulasia was famous for its craftsmen, and merchants from all over the world came to Suld to buy what were considered to be the best durable goods in the world.  A Sulasian wagon would last ten years longer than one built by other hands, and there was a heavy demand for Sulasian four-banded barrels, famous for their durability.  Daltochan was famous for metalwork and weapons, but Sulasia was famous for the things that modern man used in his daily life.

        It gave Suld a multinational aire that Tarrin couldn't miss.  Suld was the capital of Sulasia, seat of the Lion Throne, but the city looked more like a crossroads of the world.  In Suld, Tarrin's obvious exotic appearance didn't attract as much attention as he thought it might.  Some people gave him second looks, but by and large, he was left alone.  But then again, the hulking ten span tall menace travelling beside him may have alot to do with that.

        The only think Tarrin didn't like about it was the smell.  He'd grown used to that foul miasma since being on the gro