Chapter 24

 There was no hiding anything now.

 Tarrin stepped into Renoit's personal tent with Jula thrown over his shoulder.  He had walked through most of the city to get there, and everyone had stopped to look at him.  Some of the more adventurous had followed him a while, and a few had followed him all the way to the circus.  He didn't pay them all that much attention.  They were harmless, and there was nothing he could do about them.  They could tell by looking at him that he'd been in a fight, and the expression on his face was enough to get everyone out of his way.

 The walk had been good for him.  The relative silence allowed him to think, to think about what the Goddess said to him, and what he felt afterward.  He had become so angry with what he was, and he hadn't even noticed it.  But now his eyes were open, open to the truth.  It wouldn't be easy to change, but if he could forgive Jula, then just about anything was possible.  He just had to start over again, to learn how to control himself.  That was the key.  If he could just control his impulses, take his life back from the Cat and its instincts, which dominated him, then everything would be alright.  He even felt that maybe he could become more open with strangers.  It certainly wouldn't happen overnight, but if taking Jula had taught him anything, it was that nothing was as set in stone as he first believed.  It wasn't going to be easy.  Even now, he had to surpress the urge to throttle the woman.  He was still very angry with her.  He could forgive the past, but he wasn't about to forget it, and what had happened in the past was still enough to make him angry.  He forgave, but the Cat did not.

 Dolanna and Camara Tal were in the tent when he entered.  They looked at him in surprise, staring at the obvious Were-cat that was draped over his shoulder with shock, noting his emotionless expression.  When he threw her down, not gently, onto the canvas floor of the tent, Dolanna immediately stood up and gasped.  "Goddess!  Tarrin, where did you find her?  And what in the moons happened?  Did you bite her?"

 "I didn't bite her," Tarrin replied.

 "Who is this woman, cub?" Camara Tal asked.

 "Jula."

 "Jula?  She's still alive?  Why didn't you kill her?"

 "I very nearly did," he replied in a low growl, then he related to them the tale of his tracking her down, and the fight.  He didn't say anything about the Goddess.  That seemed too personal to share with them.  "But at the end, I realized that I didn't have to kill her.  I couldn't punish her any more than she's already been punished.  Besides, she was one of them.  If I can set her mind straight, she can tell us everything about the Black Network we need to know to neutralize them."

 "And what stops her from turning on us the first chance?" Camara Tal asked.

 "This," he replied levelly, holding up his paw.  "I have no idea how it happened, but she's Were now.  That makes her my daughter, since I was the one who found her.  I have to teach her the laws of Fae-da'Nar."

 "Tarrin, that's not going to keep her from betraying us."

 "It will when she realizes that turning her back on me is going to kill her," he said bluntly.  "I took her bond.  She can't hide from me.  And she won't be stupid enough to think that she'll be safe if she tries to run."  He looked at Dolanna.  "That's why I brought her here, Dolanna.  I need you to show me how to cure her insanity."

 Dolanna laughed ruefully.  "Dear one, do not confuse me with a miracle worker," she begged off.  "I am no expert in Mind weaves, and unravelling insanity caused by Lycanthropy would even make Amelyn fret.  I would not know where to begin."

 "Then show me how you supressed my instincts when I first turned Were," he asked.  "If I can separate her instincts from her conscious mind, it may make her rational."

 "That I can show you, but not without Sarraya," she said.  "You cannot use your Sorcery without her to control you."

 "Then someone had better find her.  If Jula wakes up before we start, I'll have to knock her out again.  I don't think this tent would survive that."

 "You certainly look like you slugged it out with her," Camara Tal said with a sly grin.  "Looks like she gave back what she got."

 "At first," he admitted.  "Then I stopped being an idiot and used my training.  After that, she didn't have a chance."

 "That's my boy," Camara Tal smiled.  "I'll go find the bug.  You two keep an eye on that.  And find some way to clean her up.  She stinks," she said, wrinkling her nose.

 "No argument from me," Dolanna said, touching the Weave.  Tarrin watched as Dolanna used weaves of Water and Air to clean the filth from Jula's body, scrub her hair clean, and remove the detritus from her fur.  Looking at her when she was clean was like looking at an entirely different Were-cat.  She was just as pale as he remembered.  She was taller, and her Were-cat body was leaner and more muscular than she had been before, but it didn't alter her basic body shape.  She was still slim and pretty.  Her blond hair was much longer now, another side effect of being turned, very long and thick, but tangled and unkempt.  A very long session with a brush would return it to its past glory.  Tarrin knelt by her and rolled her over on her back, putting a finger to her neck to check her pulse.  Still very slow and regular.  She was still out cold.  Even her regeneration was having trouble getting her back awake.

 "Tarrin, you didn't, did you?" Sarraya demanded even as she flitted into the tent.  She had her hands on her hips and glared at him, not a span from his nose.

 "I didn't bite her," he assured her.  "I found her like this.  Believe me, I really want to know what happened to her."

 "So this is Jula," Sarraya mused.  "She doesn't look all that dangerous."

 "Wait til she wakes up," Tarrin grunted.  "She's totally mad.  Dolanna's going to show me how to try to supress her instincts.  Hopefully, that'll restore her rational mind."

 "That's a good idea," Sarraya agreed.  "It should.  It's the instincts that cause the madness.  Take those away, and the insanity should fade."

 "Alright, Dolanna, show me what to do," Tarrin said, turning to his instructor.

 The weave was unbelievably complicated.  It was no wonder it had taken Dolanna so long to put it together.  It was only steps below High Sorcery in its complexity, and Tarrin's respect for his mentor and friend was raised several notches as she demonstrated the weave he had to use.  "That is what I used on you, dear one," she told him.  "There are going to be differences, because you are the same race as she is.  I have seen you improvise before, so I have confidence that you will feel out the changes you will need to make."

 "Alright," Tarrin nodded to her.  "Let's do this."

 It was a marvelously simple combination.  Sarraya used her Druidic power to keep his Sorcery in check, and he reached through her restrictive shield on him and touched the Weave.  The result was that the Weave didn't try to flood him as it usually did.  The power flowed into him slowly, allowing him to completely control it as he had been able to do before High Sorcery had overwhelmed his ability to weave spells.  That awesome power was isolated from him, kept on the other side of Sarraya's Druidic barrier.  It was kept a little too well.  "Loosen it a little, Sarraya.  It'll take me hours to weave the spell at this rate."

 "Just tell me when to stop," she replied, and he felt the Weave's energy flowing into him faster.  It continued to increase, until he reached a level where he felt he was comfortable.  It was fast enough to grant him the power he needed to weave the spell, but not so much that he couldn't resist its flowing into him when he was done.

 "Right there.  Alright, Dolanna, tell me if I weave this wrong," he said, and he began.  It took him nearly ten minutes to weave the spell, from all the flows except Confluence, a massive ball of crisscrossing flows.  He wove them together slowly and carefully, sweating from the effort and straining to keep the loose tangle of flows from interacting with one another prematurely.  He literally wove it flow by flow, twist by twist, following Dolanna's guiding advice as the weave took shape inside Jula's body.  When he felt it was done, he snapped it down and released it, sensing its operation and adjusting it as it took effect as best he could.  Since he had never done it before, he had no idea how best to tweak the weave for maximum effect.  He could only guess at it, going on what he knew of his own instincts and the way they felt when they took over.

 Leaning back on his heels, Tarrin blew out his breath when the weave was finished.  He cut it off, letting it evaporate, but it left behind a magical effect inside Jula's mind much like a Ward, a magical effect that would separate and supress her Were instincts.  It wouldn't last forever, however.  Just as Dolanna's weave had unravelled within him, his spell would eventually wear off.  Jula had that long to learn how to stave off the madness, better this time than her first attempt to do so.  Her instincts would be felt behind that curtain of magical protection, and they would progressively grow stronger and stronger as the weave weakened.  Hopefully, as it had done for him, that separation would give her the critical time she would need to learn how to control the madness.

 Putting a paw on her forehead, Tarrin wove together a healing weave and released it into her, which made her body shudder slightly at the icy cold sensation.  He'd given her a concussion when he was hitting her in the face, that was why she was still unconscious.  His own regenerative powers were rather slow when it came to healing damage to the brain.  Probably because of the complexities involved in it.  Jula tried to roll on her side, but a paw on her shoulder held her down.  She groaned incoherently, reaching up and grabbing his wrist in a weak grip, her tail wrapping around his ankle reflexively when it made contact with him.  Then her restless movements eased, and she relaxed back to the floor of the tent.

 Her eyes opened, slowly.  She blinked a few times against the light, and he could see from her eyes that she was coherent.  The burning quality that had been inside them, induced by her madness, was gone.  She looked up at him in dumbfounded shock for a long moment, then she shuddered when his paw shifted against her.

 "So this is it," she said calmly, submitting to his hold on her.  "Did you wake me up just so I could be ready for it?"

 "I see you remember," he said, a bit coldly.

 "I remember everything," she said, shuddering and closing her eyes sharply.  "Everything.  Sometimes memory is a curse.  Why am I not insane now?"

 "Tarrin supressed your instincts," Dolanna said flatly.

 "Did you want me to be rational for this?  I'm impressed, Tarrin.  Your brutality goes quite beyond anything I could ever manage."

 "You'll believe that in a few rides," he said stiffly, taking his hand off her shoulder.

 She stared at him.  "You're not going to kill me, are you?"  She rose up on her paw, looking up at the four of them in surprise. "You want what I know, don't you?  You resisted the urge to kill me, just so you could make me talk?  You even cured my madness, just to get at my knowledge.  Goodness, you're nothing like what Kravon believes of you, Tarrin."

 "That's part of the reason," Tarrin told her gruffly.  "This is the other."  He reached down and grabbed the end of her tail, and pulled it away from his ankle.

 "Surprised to see me like this?" she asked with a slight little smile.  "You don't give a girl many options, Tarrin.  After you so effortlessly ripped out my spine, I had a choice of either dying, or drinking some of your blood that they stored for study.  I always plan for eventualities.  I could see that facing your wrath was a definite possibility.  I was proved right in that."

 "It backfired on you, did it not, Jula?" Dolanna asked.  "You felt that you could control it as easily as Tarrin seemed to control it.  Reality is a harsh mistress."

 She sighed, and a little shudder ran through her.  "I should have let myself die," she said with utter sincerity.  "Just do me one favor, Tarrin.  When I'm done talking, when whatever you did to me wears off, kill me.  I'd rather be dead than be like that again."

 "You give up too quickly," Sarraya said with a grin.  "We don't turn our backs on children, girl."

 "Children?  Me?"

 "Tarrin found you, so that makes you his bond- child.  Say hello to your new daddy."

 Jula gaped at him.

 "I'll teach you what you need to know," he said bluntly.  "I'll help you keep your sanity.  All you have to do is be honest with me.  When I'm satisfied you're going to obey our laws and you won't go mad again, I'll release you.  But don't ever think that I'm going to enjoy doing it," he hissed.  "I still hate you, Jula.  I'm only doing this because it's my duty, not because I want to."  He glared down at her.  "And one more thing.  If you even think of betraying me, or going back to Kravon, I'll kill you.  You know you don't stand a chance against me, and now that I have your bond, there's nowhere you can run.  I'll track you down, and I'll finish you.  Don't forget that."

 "That, that's not going to be a problem," she said, lowering her eyes.  "Kravon chained me up and kept me like a pet.  He used me for his own entertainment.  When I was no more use to him as an agent, I became his experimental rat."  She sat up slowly.  "They sent me here and let me loose, hoping that I'd cause you trouble.  Just to slow you down.  Or that we'd meet, and I'd kill you.  They didn't care about what happened to me afterward.  They never cared about what happened to me.  I was just an animal to them.  They never tried to help me keep my mind.  Kravon studied me as I went mad, just so he could learn about the process."  To his surprise, Jula began to cry, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.  "It was terrible.  I was trapped in a living nightmare, and they made it even worse."

 "Now you know how it feels to be betrayed," Tarrin told her.  She looked up at him, and her eyes fixated on the scarred manacles locked around Tarrin's wrists.  Manacles she had seen placed there.  "I won't offer you pleasantries or an easy life, woman.  You may find me as harsh as Kravon, but at least you'll know where you stand with me.  And that I'll do what's best for you, even if I don't like it.  That's my burden to bear."

 "I, believe you," she said hesitantly, looking up at him.  "So, if you'll let me off the floor and give me something to eat, I'll tell you anything you want to know."  She looked down and blushed slightly.  "And could I impose on someone for a robe?"

 Sarraya conjured forth a plain robe, and Camara Tal poked her head out of the tent and barked at someone to bring food.  Jula put on the simple, undyed wool robe, then took a seat at the small table Renoit kept in his tent.  Just looking at her caused a storm of conflicting emotions inside him.  Anger, fury, but also duty and a strange protectiveness.  He had taken her as his own child, and he felt the need to nurture her, to raise her properly, just as he felt the need to wring her neck for what she did to him in the past.  She was very meek and submissive any time she looked at him.  She could smell his seething emotions, he knew she could.  She knew better than to do anything to make him mad.  "I appreciate this, Faerie," Jula said, picking at the robe.  "It's a bit itchy, but I was starting to feel a noticable draft."

 "I could have made it out of itchweed," Sarraya teased.

 "These two, who are they?  I don't remember any reports about them," Jula asked, pointing at Camara Tal.

 "Friends," Tarrin replied shortly.  "Camara Tal, and that one is Sarraya."

 "An Amazon and a Faerie.  You have exotic friends."

 "I'm not normal.  Neither are you anymore.  Don't forget that."

 "It's not something I forget easily," she said quietly, holding up her black-furred paw and looking at it.  "It was the worst mistake I ever made."

 "That's a negative attitude," Sarraya chided her.  "If you're not going to accept help, then don't waste our time."

 "I'm not a quitter, Faerie.  I'm a survivor.  If I have to go on like this, then I'll learn how to go on.  But I'm not going to go mad again," she declared adamantly.  "I'll kill myself first."

 "That's more like it," Sarraya smiled, landing on the table.

 A bowl of stew arrived, and Jula attacked it before someone could hand her a spoon.  She dribbled stew on her chin as she drank greedily from the bowl, nearly choking as she gorged on the thick ham stew Deward had made for breakfast.  Tarrin and the others watched on quietly as she ate ravenously.  After most of it was gone, she lowered the bowl and wiped her chin with the back of her furred paw.  "I never thought I'd eat something cooked again," she sighed.  "Now then, where do you want to start?"

 "Let us start simply," Dolanna replied.  "What is ki'zadun, and what is its goal?"

 "That's simple enough, Dolanna," Jula said.  "They're a group of people who intend to take over the world.  That's the ultimate objective."

 "Who leads them?"

 "It's changed over the years," she replied.  "At first, it was Val.  After he was imprisoned by Spyder, the leadership has traded hands between the Witch-Kings of Stygia and the Zakkite Imperium several times.  But about five hundred years ago, they found the prison holding Val, and he's been commanding the organization since then.  That's why they're after you, Tarrin.  The Firestaff can restore his powers and free him from his prison.  That's why they want it.  Kravon commands the network's operations here in the West.  He answers directly to Val."

 "Val?  The Fallen God?" Camara Tal asked sharply.

 Jula nodded.  "Val's lost his power, but not his worshippers.  They still worship him, working for the day when he'll reward them for their loyalty."  She took another long drink from the bowl, reaching in and plucking out a large chunk of ham.  "Everything they do is aimed around taking over the entire world.  The plan is three-pronged.  One part is to restore Val to power.  Another is to raise an army for him to command, and the third is to plant agents throughout the governments of the Known World to upset things when Val moves to conquer the world."

 "A strange plan, since the Gods will simply cast him down again, if he returns to his power," Dolanna noted.

 "We--They," she corrected, "don't think that's an issue.  To do that would create a war between the gods, and it's doubtful that the Elder Gods would permit the destruction of the world."

 "They will," Tarrin said grimly.  "I've already been told that.  If someone uses the Firestaff, the Elder Gods will directly intervene.  I was told that the result would be the destruction of most of Sennadar."

 "That's been considered, but even that's not a serious drawback.  The thinking is that the Black Network would be in the best position to pick up the pieces after such a catastrophe, because they have many secret lairs well away from civilization, people and equipment that would survive the cataclysm.  Either way, they win.  It just changes the number of people they'll control."

 "That's monstrous," Sarraya said sharply.

 "World domination is not a neat and pretty venture, Faerie," Jula said mildly.  "It can't be done without sacrifices."

 "And you've become one of them," Tarrin told her flatly.

 Jula lowered her head.  "I knew what I was getting into when I joined them," she said honestly.  "I knew what kind of people they were."

 "Why did you do it, Jula?" Dolanna said with sudden emotion.  "Why did you turn your back on the Goddess?  Why did you serve such a dark cause?"

 "Power," she replied simply, looking at the small Sharadite woman.  "I had power in the ki'zadun.  I was important, respected."

 "And look what it got you," Tarrin snapped at her.  "A chain around your neck.  When you play with snakes, don't be surprised when you get bitten."  He loomed over her.  "Speaking of snakes, the last time we talked, you offered to tell me who the traitor was in the Tower.  Who is it?"

 Jula stared at him for a long time, then bowed her head.  "Her name is Adrenne," she said meekly.  "She's one of the older Sorcerers.  She's been at the Tower a long time.  She's highly respected."

 "Adrenne?" Dolanna said.  "Adrenne is dead, Jula.  She died nearly a ride before Tarrin disappeared from the Tower."

 "That's impossible," Jula protested.  "I received instructions from her the day Tarrin attacked me!  In person!  She couldn't be dead!"

 "She is dead, Jula.  I was there when she fell from a balcony.  I assure you, it was Adrenne, and she did die."

 "That just can't be!  It had to be someone else!"

 Tarrin stared at her.  Her emotion was so strong that he felt it through the bond.  She wasn't lying.

 "Perhaps you were receiving them from someone you thought was Adrenne," Dolanna said clinically.  "An expert in Illusion, or someone strong in Mind weaves could have convinced you that she was someone else."

 Jula glared at Dolanna a moment, but said nothing.

 "So, the traitor even deceived her minions," Camara Tal said calmly.  "That's not a very bad idea, judging from the activities of the ki'zadun."

 "Maybe this traitor knocked off Adrenne," Sarraya mused.

 "I doubt that," Dolanna said.  "It would be foolish of her to kill the woman she was impersonating.  But it does narrow down the possible suspects.  This had to be someone who did not know that Adrenne had died.  Someone away from the Tower when it happened, and who does not mingle enough to hear the story."

 "Since we're about done on that subject, let's get back to the other matter," Camara Tal said.  "Do you know who here in Arak are agents of the ki'zadun?" she asked Jula.

 The female Were-cat shook her head.  "Not by name.  I do know that they have a stronghold somewhere in the trades district.  I know the signs of the organization.  I could find it easily enough."

 "And we know that they are all searching for the Book of Ages."

 Jula nodded.  "They know it's here.  They've been looking for nearly four months, but they haven't found it yet.  Or so I heard before I was flown down here to stall Tarrin."

 "Flown?" Sarraya asked.

 Jula looked down at the small sprite.  "The ki'zadun uses trained Wyverns for fast messages and important people, Faerie.  When Kravon decided I was more useful to stall Tarrin than to amuse him," she said with a slight shudder, "he had me trussed up and tied to a Wyvern.  They gave the rider orders to bring me to Dala Yar Arak and drop me in a poor neighborhood.  It took me nearly two days to unchain myself."  She closed her eyes and hugged herself slightly.  The pain he felt through her bond was sharp.  The memories of what she did while she was insane were torturing her inside, though she said nothing and pretended that it didn't matter.  Jula was a very good actor.

 "How did they know we were coming here?" Dolanna asked.

 "Agents," she replied.  "They can't track Tarrin with magic, and they don't know enough about the others to track them, so they rely on agents to gather information.  Once they found out you were hiding with the circus, it wasn't hard to keep track of you."

 "That doesn't explain Jegojah," Tarrin said. "How did it know where I was all the time?"

 "Jegojah is not normal magic, Tarrin," Jula replied calmly.  "They had your hair from the fight with the Wraith, and they used it to give the Doomwalker the power to find you.  It could point right to you at any time and tell someone exactly how many longspans away you were.  There is no hiding from a Doomwalker."  She laughed ruefully.  "But that's probably a moot point now."

 "What do you mean?"

 "I was there when Kravon raised its spirit and interrogated it, after Tarrin killed it again," she replied.  "I was kept chained up in Kravon's lab, and that's where he did all his real business.  Anyway, it refused to come after you again, even after Kravon threatened to permanently destroy its soul.  That's not a small complement, Tarrin.  Kravon will certainly raise Jegojah again and send it after you, but not immediately."

 "Why not?"

 "Doomwalkers are very powerful," Jula replied.  "If Jegojah resists, there's a chance that he'll break free of Kravon's control.  If that happens, he'll turn on Kravon so fast that the heartless bastard will never know what hit him.  Kravon has to force it to agree to being raised, either by talking it into it, or torturing its soul to force its cooperation for the raising.  Either way, it won't be quick.  Jegojah is an unusually strong-willed soul.  Kravon will have to work at it to wear him down."

 "Thank the Goddess for small favors," Tarrin sighed.

 The tent flap opened, and Phandebrass stepped in.  "I say, Dolanna, do you happen--" he began, then he got a good look at Jula and stopped.  "Dear me, I didn't know you were entertaining a relative, Tarrin, I didn't.  Do you want me to come back?"

 "That's alright, Phandebrass," Tarrin said.  "In fact, why don't you come in and take a seat?  Your ability to ask good questions may come in handy."

 "I say, if you want me to, lad," he said, closing the tent flap.  "May I be introduced to your friend?"

 "Friend?" Sarraya said, then she laughed.

 "This is Jula, you old coot," Camara Tal said sharply.  "The Jula."

 "Jula?  I say, you're not dead?  Tarrin must be feeling ill."

 Dolanna smiled, and Tarrin blew out his breath.  "Jula here is spilling her guts about her former employers," Sarraya told the mage.  "So far, she's been very helpful."

 "I say, I didn't know Jula was a Were- cat."

 "They didn't know about that, Master Phandebrass," Jula said dismissively.  "Let's say that it was a rather foolish accident on my part."

 "So, you're explaining the ki'zadun, are you?  I say, I'm sorry I missed the first part."

 "It's nothing we can't repeat to you," Camara Tal told him.

 "True, true," he agreed, sitting down on a chest by the table.

 "Anyway, like I said, right now they're concentrating on the Firestaff," Jula told them.  "I don't know the details of what's going on here in Dala Yar Arak, but I do know that every agent they have is searching anywhere they can think of.  They've even sent thieves into the Imperial Library's private vaults to see if it was there.  Every other operation has been suspended.  They even have the agents in the Emperor's court looking for it.  That made some of the courtesans very unhappy.  The only work they like to do is the kind where they lay on their backs."

 "I doubt they have found it since she heard that," Dolanna said.  "If they had, they would not still be looking.  And they would probably turn and try to kill us."

 "Why not do it now?" Sarraya asked.

 "Because we're another set of searchers," Camara Tal answered.  "If they know we're here, then there's no doubt they're watching us.  So if we find it, they can just move in and try to take it from us."

 "Precisely," Jula agreed.  "Until the book is found, anyone is useful to them, even you.  After someone finds it, that's when the real war is going to begin.  After all, you and them aren't the only ones looking for it.  Half the foreigners in Dala Yar Arak are here looking for that book, or the Firestaff itself."

 "How did they know to come here?" Tarrin asked curiously.

 "Because you are here," Jula told him plainly.  "They know who you are, Tarrin.  If you're here looking for something, they're going to look here too.  Even if they don't know exactly what you're looking for."

 "How could they know that?"

 "Information has a way of spreading, no matter how secret it is," Phandebrass told him.  "I say, there's little doubt the ki'zadun itself is infiltrated with agents of other powers."

 "Most likely," Jula nodded in agreement.  "Every man or woman sent here by someone else was sent here because you came here.  They hope that they can get lucky and find whatever you're looking for before you do."

 "I find it hard to believe that so many people know about me," Tarrin snorted.

 "Tarrin, you're probably the most notorious man alive," Jula told him.  "You're not even a rumor anymore.  You're reaching mythic proportions."

 "What do you mean?"

 "You shake the entire world every time you take a step, father dearest," Jula said with a little smile.  "Stories of you are flying everywhere.  Stories of Sheba, stories of Zakkites, stories of your fights with Jegojah and Triana.  The people who've seen you fight spread those tales, as do many of the people in this circus.  There's a trail of legendary stories laid out behind you, spreading from every port you've visited.  You're reputed to be a hundred spans tall and have gods brush your hair every night before bed."  She leaned back slightly when he scowled at her.  "That reputation actually works in your favor," she explained.  "The people who've heard the rumors are afraid of you, so most of them won't directly interfere with you.  Your power and your ruthlessness are universally known.  They're afraid they'll just be added to the list of enemies you've destroyed.  The only ones that will try to directly interfere with you are the strongest ones.  The ki'zadun, the Zakkites, the Wikuni, the Arakites, Sharadar, Shu Lung.  Groups with that much power and influence."

 "I say, she makes sense, lad," Phandebrass agreed.  "I've heard some of those rumors myself, I have.  They're very flattering for you."

 Tarrin crossed his arms.  "Silliness," he grunted.  "But I'm not going to gainsay it.  If people are too afraid of me to get in my way, those are people I won't have to kill."

 "Something like that," Jula agreed.  "Only the ki'zadun and the Zakkites know the truth about you, so they're your greatest adversaries."

 "What truth?" he demanded.

 "That you are the Mi'Shara," she replied.  "Not just any mi'shara, the Mi'Shara.  They know that means that you're the greatest threat to their own plans, but they also have to work around you in case you succeed where they do not.  That means that they'll try to stop you.  That's what Kravon's been trying to do for over a year.  But if it becomes clear you're going to get the Firestaff, they'll stop trying to kill you, let you get it, then try to take it from you when you succeed."

 "This is something we have discussed before, dear one," Dolanna reminded him.  "It fits with what we already know."

 "I know," he grunted, leaning on the table.  Sarraya walked over and patted him on the forearm, looking up at him with her blue eyes and a light smile.

 "Well, unless you want some specifics, that about covers what I know," she said.  "That's the plan, as far as I remember."

 "So, what do we do about it?" Camara Tal asked.

 "Simple," Tarrin said, looking right at the Amazon.  "We do nothing."

 "What?" Sarraya demanded.

 "We do nothing," he repeated.  "Jula said they're not going to interfere with us, because we may find the book.  If we do, they intend to take it from us.  Right now, that's the most important thing there is.  If we stop looking for the book to get into a running war with the ki'zadun, we'll be wasting precious time.  We let them be, at least for now.  We kill any agents we come across and discourage them from following us, but we don't crusade."

 Dolanna looked at Tarrin sharply.  "That is what I was going to suggest," she agreed.  "I do think that we should locate their hidden places, in case we are the ones who must attack them to gain the book.  It is only wise."

 "We'll take care of that," Tarrin said, looking at Jula.  "She can find them for us.  It'll give us something to do during the day."

 "Us?  We?" Jula asked curiously.

 "Let me make this clear to you right now, woman," Tarrin said bluntly.  "Until I release you, you're not getting out of my sight.  You are going to be right beside me.  You are going to eat with me, sleep by me, and you will even bathe with me.  If you find yourself away from me without my permission, you will come and find me.  If you don't, I'll consider you a runaway, and I'll deal with you like any other Rogue.  I'm not joking about this, and I won't give you any warnings.  Do you understand me?"

 Jula paled, then nodded fervently.

 "Good."  He turned to Dolanna.  "We may want to consider moving to an inn, Dolanna," he said.  "I carried Jula through half the city.  Alot of people saw us, and some of them are going to connect Jula with the killings."

 "Killings?"

 "I, I've been here nearly a ride," Jula said slowly.  "I was a wild animal dropped into a city full of defenseless prey."

 "I, understand," Dolanna said, her eyes softening.

 "There are other reasons," he said.  "The circus is too tempting a target to anyone who wants to get at us.  They know we'll move to defend it if we're here.  We should leave them, if only to protect them from our problems.  These tents just aren't secure enough.  One fire, and we'd be done for."

 "No argument there," Camara Tal nodded.  "I'm getting tired of sharing my tent with a bunch of jabbering girls, anyway.  Kids talk endlessly."

 "I say, I think Tarrin's right," Phandebrass nodded.  "We're too open here, too vulnerable, we are.  And too many people know where to find us."

 "Then I will look into renting an inn," Dolanna told them.  "Just as it was in Shoran's Fork.  If we control the entire inn, then we reduce our vulnerability."

 "Something as close to the center of the city as you can, Dolanna," Sarraya said. "Do you have any idea how far I have to fly to get to my search area?  And it's even worse for Dar and Camara Tal.  They have to travel over an hour just to get to where they can start looking."

 "That reminds me of what we were talking about before Tarrin dumped Jula on the floor," Camara Tal said.  "You'd better be very careful out there, Tarrin, Sarraya.  There's a Demon in Dala Yar Arak."

 "A Demon?" Tarrin said in surprise.  "I thought they were all banished from Sennadar.  I didn't think even a Wizard could summon one anymore."

 "Wizards can summon a Demon, my boy.  They're just not stupid enough to try," Phandebrass said.  "A Demon would make Jegojah look like an apprentice's conjured shade.  No living Wizard has the power or skill to contain such a monster.  And to even be able to summon one, the summoner has to know the Demon's true name.  You can't find that information anymore."

 "Why not?"

 "Such information is commonly written in spellbooks, and they were destroyed in the Breaking," Phandebrass told him, pulling a bit at his robe.  "I say, no Wizard before the Breaking would have dared write such a thing in anything but a spellbook.  The consequences would have been utterly disastrous."

 "What do you think this Demon wants?" Tarrin asked Camara Tal.

 "I have no idea.  I didn't see it, I only saw a pack of Hellhounds."

 "What are those?"

 "I say, Hellhounds are denizens of the Lower World," Phandebrass replied.  "They're special creatures, servants of Demons.  No Wizard can summon a Hellhound, because they don't have true names.  Only Demons can summon them from their evil dimension, so if you see a Hellhound, then the Demon who summoned it must be somewhere nearby."

 "What would a Demon want here?"

 "The same as us," Sarraya grunted.  "A Demon could use the Firestaff just as easily as anyone else."

 "That's a pleasant thought," Camara Tal grated.

 "Fighting the ki'zadun or the Zakkites is one thing, but a Demon is an entirely different game," Jula said hotly.  "I don't want anything to do with that."

 "You'll do what I tell you to do," Tarrin whirled on her, his eyes boring into hers like daggers.  "If I tell you to attack a Demon with a soup spoon, you'll do it, or I'll kill you myself.  Do you understand me?"

 "I understand, Tarrin," she said after a moment of silence.  "But you wouldn't do that to me, would you?"

 "Probably not, but I won't tolerate any defiance out of you.  You'd better get that in your head right now.  I've killed men for less sass than you just gave me."

 "They're not me," she said with a small smile.

 "No.  I'd enjoy killing you, witch.  Don't forget that."

 Jula paled visibly and averted her eyes.  "No, I won't forget that."

 The tent flap opened again, and Allia stepped in with Dar just behind.  The Selani took one look at the seated Jula, and she reacted instantly.  With such speed that the humans in the tent couldn't even track her movements, Allia drew one of her hidden swords and lunged at the Were-cat female.  Jula stared at her in incomprehsensible shock, and had Tarrin not intercepted her, grabbed her by her wrist and pulled her to the side, she would have impaled Jula through the face with her sword.  Allia writhed and squirmed in Tarrin's grasp, trying to free herself and attack the startled Jula.  "Have you lost your mind?" Allia snapped hotly at him in Selani.  "Let me go!"

 "Not until you put your sword away," Tarrin replied sternly.  "Jula's not here as an enemy."

 "But she--"

 "That's overwith," he stated.  "Believe me, she was already punished for what she did, more than I could ever have punished her.  Honor has been satisfied."

 "Never, in my life, have I seen someone move so fast!" Dolanna said reverently to Camara Tal.

 Allia resisted against her brother, but he had her firmly around the waist and her back against his stomach.  But then her writhing eased, when she realized that he wasn't about to let her go.  "Honor won't be satisfied until she is dead!" Allia declared with a vicious glare at the female Were-cat.

 "Trust me, deshaida," he said soothingly.  "I don't much like it myself, but she did suffer for what she did.  You can see that she's Were now.  Well, she went mad."

 "She did?"

 "She did.  She remembers being insane, she remembers everything that happened to her at the hands of her own comrades after she wasn't useful to them anymore.  It's something that'll be with her for the rest of her life.  Do you think that was punishment enough?"

 Allia was quiet a moment.  "It's a start," she said in a sadistic tone.

 "I want your oath that you won't kill her, Allia.  Not unless I give you permission."

 "Why are you defending her, brother?  After what she did to you, you should have been the first to kill her!"

 "I almost did," he told her calmly.  "Then I realized that if I did, then I'd be no better than her."

 Allia turned in his grasp and looked into his eyes.  There was concern in her eyes, but there was also a hint of hope, too.  "We'll talk about this later, deshida," she said gently.  "But for now, you have my word.  I won't raise a hand against her unless you tell me I can."

 "That's good enough for me," he said in the common tongue, then he let her go.  She settled her desert garb about her calmy, then sheathed her sword in a single easy movement.

 "I will not kill her," Allia said.  "At least not now."

 Jula gave the Selani a calm look, but said nothing.

 "This is going to get messy," Camara Tal said.  "I think we'd be better off just trussing her up and shipping her back to Triana.  Let Triana deal with training her."

 "Triana would kill her," Tarrin said.  "Any of the Were-cats would.  They know who she is and what she did to me."

 Jula paled visibly, and put her eyes on the table.

 "That's right, Jula.  You have a long way to go before you redeem yourself in the eyes of your new family.  If you don't learn what I have to teach, I'll kill you.  If you run away, I'll kill you.  If you manage to get away, some other Were-kin will kill you.  You can't hide from us, and you won't live long alone.  Your only chance is to stay with me, and give me every reason to keep you alive."

 "I already told you I'd obey you, Tarrin," she said meekly.  "I'm not stupid enough to challenge you.  I tried that twice before, and look where I am now."

 "Why did you accept her?" Allia demanded in Selani, obviously realizing that Tarrin had taken her as his child.  "She deserves no such mercy!"

 "I didn't do it for her," he said quietly.  "I did it because I had to.  You've said it many times, Allia.  Honor is a person's choice, but duty is a person's burden.  Honor and Blood."

 Allia sighed.  She had taught him the meaning of that obscure phrase, a phrase used by both the Selani and the Vendari.  Duty's reward was honor, but its cost was blood.  In this case, its cost was the withholding of a punishment that should have been meted out.

 "I understand, my brother," she said quietly in common.

 "I'm glad someone does," Camara Tal grunted.  "I hate it when you two do that."

 "It used to drive my father crazy," Tarrin said absently, glancing at Allia.  "Since there's not much to do for now, I'm going to leave you to talk about this.  Allia, I want you and Dar to stay here and hear what they have to say, so you can hear what happened before you got here.  I'm taking Jula out for a while, so we can talk privately.  And to get her some clothes.  That robe won't cut it."

 "Be careful, my brother," Allia said.  "We will talk when you return."

 "I'm looking forward to it," he told her, patting her on the shoulder.  "Jula, come with me," he ordered in a strong voice.

 Without a word, Jula rose from her seat.   She gave Allia a wide berth as she passed by her to reach the tent flap, and Tarrin herded her out.

 She was quiet, and she kept her eyes on the ground.  It was very faint, but he could sense her fear and anxieity through her bond.  He'd been hard on her, but he was still angry, and that was making him probably a bit more harsh than he needed to be.  She had just been restored from her insanity, and he hadn't taken that into account.  The pain of her memories was still very raw, very fresh, and he was rubbing salt in her wounds.  She didn't deserve any of his sympathy or compassion, but his duty to raise her properly chided him for being harder than he needed to be.  He didn't like her.  He still wanted to smash her for what she did to him, but his duty prevented it.  If he gave in to his emotion, he would be surrendering himself to his own animalistic impulses.

 Honor and Blood.

 "I don't like you," he said in a growling tone.

 "You've made that abundantly clear," she said with a sigh.  "I never had anything against you, personally, Tarrin.  I did what I did because I was told to do it."  She glanced up at him.  "I actually liked you."

 "You liked me so much you treated me like your personal pet when you had that collar on me," he growled, glaring down at her.

 "All I can say is I'm sorry," she said quietly.  "We were on opposing sides."

 "Not anymore," he told her.  "Now that you can reflect on what happened to you, what do you think of the ki'zadun now?"

 She was quiet for long moments. "I think I'd like to poke out Kravon's eyes and dunk him into a vat of acid," she replied in a low, emotional voice.  "Slowly."

 "I can only promise that I'll try to help you.  You may not like me, and you may find me harsh, but I won't throw you away when I'm done with you."

 "I believe you," she said sincerely.

 "When this is done, we can part ways and never see each other again.  You just have to deal with it until then."

 She was quiet.  "I tried to hold off the madness once before, and I failed.  I won't go insane again.  I just won't.  If you think there's no hope for me, I want you to kill me."

 "You didn't understand what was happening," he told her.  "I'll teach you what to do to live with your other half.  It just takes discipline."

 "It didn't help me the first time."

 "You didn't know how to apply it."

 "I'm afraid, Tarrin," she said with a trembling voice.  "I can feel it on the other side of the wall you created in my mind.  It's sitting there, waiting for it to weaken.  It wants me, it wants to enslave me again.  I'm afaid of it."

 She stopped, putting her clasped paws to her chin, and he saw that tears were forming in her eyes.  She was serious.  She was desperately afraid of the Cat.  She had lost to it once before, and it drove her insane.  "I remember everything.  Everything.  I was worse than an animal, and I could see it all.  But it had me trapped in my own mind, making me watch as I did--"

 Tarrin put a paw on her shoulder.  She flinched at that contact, but then she looked up at him.  His expression was neutral, emotionless, but the paw on her shoulder was gentle.  "What's done is done," he told her.  "If you let the past rule you, it will destroy your future.  You'll never make it if you can't accept that."

 "It's not easy," she sniffled.

 "No, it's not.  And it never gets any easier.  I carry any number of my own burdens."  He looked away from her.  "I won't be much of a teacher.  I'm half wild myself.  My way of dealing isn't the best way, but it's the only way I can show you."

 "I won't thumb my nose at it, Tarrin, believe me," she said sincerely.  "I'm not going to give up before I try.  I'm just afraid of failing."

 "There's nothing to be afraid of," he said calmly.  "One way or another, you won't go mad again."

 She looked up at him.  "You're right, I suppose," she agreed.  "One way or another.  I'd welcome that other way, if it comes down to that."

 "Let's hope not," he said.

 "Let's hope," she agreed.  "I, see you still have those.  Why do you wear them?" she asked, pointing to the manacle on his wrist.

 "They remind me what you did to me," he said bluntly.  "They remind me what happens when I let down my guard, or trust people I don't know.  They keep it from happening again."

 Jula looked at her feet.  "I didn't know it affected you like that," she said quietly.

 "If people call me a monster, it's because you made me this way," he said grimly, picking up her chin and forcing her to look into his eyes.  "These manacles sit on my wrists and remind me of the price I paid for trusting you.  Even now, I can't bring myself to trust anyone I didn't already know, and I'm just as quick to kill a man as I am to greet him.  The term Triana uses is feral."

 "I know what that means," she said.  "I guess I'm the same way, now.  I can't bring myself to trust people anymore.  Not after what Kravon did to me."  She looked up at him.  "If that's the way you feel, why do you trust me now?  After everything I did?"

 "I don't," he growled.  "But I have you bond, and that means I have power over you.  You can't lie to me.  If you try to betray me, I'll know long before you can hurt me."

 "I guess I deserve that," she sighed.  "I wouldn't trust me either.  But I trust you, Tarrin.  I don't know why, but I do."

 "You'd better," he told her.  "Let's get you some decent clothes."

 "What I want is a nice dress."

 "Give up on that idea," he said.  "A dress doesn't suit a Were-cat.  Especially not with what we're going to be doing."

 "But I've never worn a pair of pants in my life."

 "Now's a good time to learn."

 "I'll look like a boy."

 "Take your shirt off.  They'll see the difference very quickly."

 Jula blushed.

 "Being feminine doesn't suit a Were-cat, Jula.  Our women aren't feminine.  They are female.  There's a big difference."  He glanced at her.  "Sit down."

 Tarrin sat down cross-legged on the grass perfunctorily.  Jula stared at him for a moment, then seated herself demurely in front of him.  "It's time you understood a fundamental truth," he said, holding out his paws.  "Being a Were-cat is living in two different worlds.  We have two halves.  The human half," he said, holding out a paw, "and the Cat."  He held out the other.  "The key to our lives is the balance between these two halves.  None of us are entirely human, and on the other hand, none of us are entirely cat.   The balance is different inside each of us.  Some of us, like me, are feral, more dominated by our instincts.  Some, like Kimmie and the way you are right now, are almost completely human.  The balance is everything.  To find balance inside yourself, you have to surrender some of your humanity, but not so much that you can't control your instincts."  He lowered his paws.  "You went insane because you wouldn't allow yourself to find that balance.  You rejected your Cat half, you tried to control it.  You can't do that.  The more you fight against it, the stonger it becomes.  In order to control it, you have to let it control you."

 "That's illogical."

 "That's why it beat you," he said calmly.  "Logic has no place in this, Jula.  You're dealing with a wild animal, whose entire world exists within its instincts.  To keep the Cat from dominating you, you have to allow it to influence your actions.  Unless you placate it, it's going to fight you for control.  That's where the madness begins."  He stared right into her eyes.  "The Cat is tireless and relentless.  It's a predator, a hunter, and if you oppose it, it will turn on you.  I'm sure you already know that."

 She shuddered visibly and nodded.

 "I'm not saying you have to abandon everything you held important as a human.  What I am saying is that you need to expand yourself to allow the Cat to have its place within you.  That's going to change you.  How much it changes you depends on where you stand after you find your balance."  He held his paws up again.  "What's important is that you don't fight against these changes," he stressed.  "I'm not very happy with how I changed, but it's how it happened, and I have to live with it.  If I don't, I'll go mad.  There are going to be some general alterations, common throughout our kind."

 "Like the aggression."

 "Aggression is an outward sign of our predatory instincts," he said simply.  "We are hunters, Jula.  Hunters are aggressive.  If they aren't, they starve to death.  As a lot, we tend to be direct, and have little patience for fools or liars.  We're also very independent, and we tend to be very short-tempered."

 "I remember Jesmind," she said reflectingly.  "She had enough temper for four people."

 "Jesmind is not too far from the norm of our kind," he told her.  "I guess I represent the extreme.  I have no temper."

 "I've noticed."

 "Don't push it," he warned.  "Since we're part animal, it flavors our outlook.  You'll find a great many human customs to be silly or ridiculous.  In time, you'll lose some of that learned behavior.  Modesty is a good example.  Your learned femininity is another.  You aren't a lady anymore, Jula.  You're a female.  The only difference between you and me are the instincts that motivate our genders."

 "What do you mean?"

 He looked at her.  "Take off your robe," he ordered.

 "What?  Tarrin, we're sitting in the middle of a field!  People will see me!"

 "So?"

 She blinked and gave him a startled look.  "It's improper!"

 "You're thinking like a human, Jula.  Take off your robe.  I'm not asking you, I'm telling you."

 Blushing furiously, Jula rose up her knees and unbelted the robe Sarraya conjured for her.  She slid it off her shoulders and let it fall to the ground around her, then settled back down.

 "Why are you embarassed?" he asked.

 "Maybe because I'm sitting here naked," she said in a hot tone, glaring at him.

 "So?"

 "What do you mean, so?" she snapped.

 "So what if people can see what you hide under your clothes?  Can they touch you?  Are they going to do anything you don't want them to do?"

 "I don't want them to look," she told him.

 "You're thinking like a human, Jula.  What does the Cat care about being naked?"

 She looked at him, then looked down at the ground between them.  "It doesn't care one way or the other," she said quietly.

 "There," he said gently.  "You've just communicated with your other half in a cooperative manner.  Was it all that hard?"

 "What do you mean?"

 "I asked you what the Cat thought about being naked.  You looked into that part of yourself and found the answer, and you did it without struggling against what you found there."

 She stared at him a long moment.  "I, I did, didn't I?" she admitted.  "Why didn't it seem combative?"

 "Because you weren't trying to force your will on the Cat," he replied. "No matter what you think, your instincts aren't evil.  They are simply instincts.  Once you understand them better, you'll find it easier and easier to allow them to influence you without controlling you.  Regardless of what you may believe, they are a part of you.  They only cause trouble when you try to ignore them.  Remember, the more you fight against them, the stronger they become."

 "I wouldn't allow myself to listen to them, so they took me over," she concluded.  "My, for such an illogical being, that's a very logical step."

 "More or less.  Another thing you should understand is that your human instincts didn't fade away.  They're still there.  And when your human instinct coincides with your cat instincts, you'll find them nearly overwhelming."

 "Like what?"

 "Self-preservation," he said calmly.  "That's a common instinct.  So are the maternal instincts of a female."

 "I take it the urge to reproduce is also a communal interest."

 "It is, but it's guided by your human interests.  Were-cats- -all Were-kin, for that matter--aren't wanton harlots and philanderers.  At least not all of them," he corrected.  "You'll understand after a while."

 "I understand now," she said.  "Before I went mad, I had--let's say that I was very much looking for a man.  But no human can satisfy me that way.  I'd kill them, or turn them Were.  I did try a few times, with some men that weren't afraid of me or had no idea of the danger, but it just didn't feel right."

 "They weren't Were-cats.  Both your sets of instincts would object if you tried to mate with someone outside your own species."

 "I guess," she agreed.  "I think that frustration only helped drive me over the edge.  I was looking for something I couldn't have, and it made me angry."

 "Why didn't you turn someone Were?" he asked curiously.  "There was nothing stopping you."

 "I don't know," she said, folding her arms beneath her bare breasts and looking away from him.  "I did think about it a few times, but it seemed...wrong.  I can't explain it."

 "You weren't ready to destroy someone just for one night of fleeting contentment," he surmised.

 "I suppose.  It's as good a reason as any."  She glanced at him.  "Can I put my robe back on now?"

 "If you need to ask, then the answer is no," he replied bluntly.  "I'm going to break you of that annoying human trait the same way Jesmind broke me of it."

 "How is that?"

 "Practice.  A Were-cat isn't that concerned about nudity because the clothes don't change with us.  When you learn to shapeshift, you're going to be naked.  When you change back, you'll be naked.  And you'll stay that way until you get back to your clothes.  There's no way you'll get around being seen, so it's best to get over any feelings of modesty you have right now, before it distracts you when I teach you how to shapeshift."

 Jula blushed.  "It's bad enough like this," she said quietly.

 "Then I'm not challenging your modesty enough," he said.  "Stand up."

 "Tarrin!"

 "I said stand up!" he snapped at her.  "As you settle into your instincts, you'll lose this penchant for modesty.  You're not going to run around naked all the time," he said quickly when she gave him a shocked look, "but you won't be embrassed to be seen nude in public.  Were-cats wear clothes, until they need to shapeshift.  Then the clothes come off."

 Jula gave him a slightly challenging look, then did as he commanded.  She stood up.  Tarrin looked at her calmly, staring into her eyes, then blatantly looked her up and down.  She looked much different than he remembered.  She had been soft, feminine, slim.  Now she was thin, with knotted abdominal muscle.  The muscles in her arms and legs were defined, but not massively developed, gaining that inhuman strength that was the gift of his blood.  She looked like a Were-cat, not a human.  A very attractive Were-cat female, at that.

 Her tail lashed behind her, a clear sign of her discomfort, but he said nothing.  He simply looked up at her for a long moment, then made a circling motion with his hand.  An obvious order for her to turn around.  She glared at him, but she did as she was told, turning her back to him and setting her feet together in a stiff posture.  Her tail writhed as he looked at her back and her posterior.  He was doing more than staring at her to make her feel umcomfortable.  He was sizing her up, getting an idea of her body, something he'd need to know when he taught her how to fight.  She was smaller than him, not as strong, but she was fast.  Speed techniques, with some leverage and power training.  That would be best for her.  Teach her how to fight better with her claws, but also teach her that her claws weren't her only weapons.

 All matters aside, he had to admit.  Jula had a cute butt.

 "Sit back down," he told her calmly.  "Can you still use Sorcery?"

 "Yes," she admitted, sitting down with a defiant look in his eyes.  She sat down cross-legged, like him, and her eyes dared him to look below her neck.  "It took me a while.  I had to learn how to touch the Weave all over again.  After I changed, it altered my sense of the Weave."  She placed her elbows on her knees and leaned on them, then propped her chin on her paws.  "I'm actually stronger now than I used to be.  I seem to have a greater limit for building power to weave flows as a Were-cat than I did as a human."

 "It's your body," he replied.  "Were-cat bodies are tougher than human ones, resistant to the damage that alot of Sorcery can cause, and they're more attuned to magic.  It increased the amount of power you can hold, because that's something that depends partially on your body.  It's a physical limit."

 "That's exactly what happened," she agreed.  "I had hopes that it would make me a Weavespinner, like you.  I did get stronger, but nowhere near your level."

 "Be glad it didn't," he told her with utter sincerity.  "My condition isn't a function of my body.  I was born this way."

 "I know that now," she said with a small sigh.  "You know, Tarrin, I actually feel a little better now."

 "About what?"

 "About everything," she replied.  "What you said already has me thinking.  From what I felt before, it makes sense.  I have real hope that I can find that balance this time."

 "Even if it changes you?"

 "I get the feeling that the changes won't matter that much to me," she replied.  "Being changed is a small price to pay for staying sane."

 "That's a good attitude," he told her.  "I want you to listen to your instincts while they're suppressed," he instructed.  "Listen to what they're telling you while they can't affect you.  That will help you understand what they'll be doing when they can influence your behavior.  That way it won't feel as unnatural or frightening, and you won't be as quick to fight against them when they do.  You'll find that if you pay attention to your other half, actually listen to it and give it weight in your mind, it will be very cooperative with you.  It doesn't want to control you.  It just wants to have a say in what you do.  No more, no less."

 "I certainly hope so," she said fervently.  Tarrin let his gaze fall to her chest, and Jula's paws moved immediately to drop into her lap, covering her most intimate charms from his view.  She didn't move to cover her breasts.  Obviously, she was willing to let him see some of her, but not all.

 "Let's make this easier, Jula.  There's no part of you I haven't already seen.  Since your modesty has already been compromised, why try to defend it now?"

 "I can't change like that, I guess," she said ruefully.  "I may be a Were-cat female, but I was still raised to not sit naked in front of a man."

 "You weren't this shy in the baths."

 "Everyone was in the same state in the baths," she replied.

 Without batting an eye, Tarrin stood up and started unlacing the top of his loose shirt.

 "What are you doing?" she demanded.

 "Meeting you on common ground," he replied calmly, pulling his shirt off.

 She stood up quickly.  "No, you really don't have to do that," she said quickly, reaching down and picking up his shirt, then pushing it back at him.  "I'm sure you were just as embarassed when Jesmind did this to you as I am now, so cut me some slack."

 "It was worse for me," he admitted.  "Jesmind took her clothes off first, then ordered me to strip in front of her.  She didn't even try to make it easy."

 "Good.  Now that you know how I feel, you can put your shirt back on and we can sit back down," she said, rather quickly, pushing it at him more.

 A hasty reaction.  Tarrin studied her scent carefully, since nothing in her bond was telling him why she was acting like that.  It wasn't strong enough, whatever it was.  His ears picked up when he noticed the shift in the texture of her scent.  Then he smiled ever-so-slightly, which made her look at him with confusion.  "Alright," he said calmly, putting his shirt back on.

 Jula was feeling some sexual attraction.  No wonder, after so many months with no physical contact, and recovering from a total domination of her cat instincts, which would be very wanton if she were in season.  Even him, someone she feared, was looking good to her, because of her long months of isolation.  And she was trying very hard to deny it, or hide it.  "Put your robe back on," he told her as he sat down.

 Jula nearly ripped the robe pulling it back on, then she sat down demurely across from him.  Alot of the tension in her was gone now.

 "Rule one, Jula.  You can't hide anything from me.  What your eyes won't tell me, your scent will.  No matter how embarassing you think it is, you can tell me, because odds are I already know."

 Jula blushed to the roots of her hair.

 "It's a normal reaction," he told her.  "You've been alone for a very long time.  It's only natural for you to have sexual interest in a male, and it doesn't offend me."  He looked at her steadily.  "Get over it.  I'm not interested.  What you're feeling now is something you'll deal with until you do too."

 "Did you," she said, then she blushed.  "Did Jesmind make you feel the same way?"

 "Some.  Then again, she didn't give me much choice.  She had interest in me long before she caught up with me."

 "She seduced you."

 "If that's what you want to call it," he said bluntly.  "Turned Were-cats aren't easy to deal with, because we have adult impulses and desires, when we have to be treated like children.  Jesmind didn't feel like waiting until I was mature enough to deal with an intimate relationship."

 "It's embarassing.  I know you don't like me, and here I am--" she blushed.

 "You won't have the same luck," he warned.  "I wouldn't trust you enough to let you get your claws that close to my throat."

 "I know.  That's why it's so embarassing.  You knowing that I want to--it's just embarassing."

 "Why?  Because it's a rather stupid human custom?  So what?  So you want to mate.  That means as much to me as if you were hungry.  Since I'm not interested, I simply don't care.  If I was interested, then it would matter to me, but not unless I was interested.  One of the little customs among Were-cats is a plain disclosure of those little truths," he told her.  "If a male and female are interested, they say so.  If one of them isn't, then it goes no further.  No male or female would force the issue."

 "Jesmind did."

 "Jesmind was wrong," he said.  "And she got an earfull from her mother for what she did.  Simply put, Jula, I don't embarass easily.  Neither will you, once you settle into your instincts a bit.  What humans make such an issue of doesn't mean as much to us.  What I know of you isn't going to change how I act towards you in any way."

 "I guess that's a small comfort," she sighed.  "But just in case it does bother you, I'm sorry."

 "It doesn't bother me at all."  He threw his braid over his shoulder.  "I think that's about all we can say about that.  Making you blush isn't as fun for me as it was for Jesmind.  Let's go get you some clothes, and then we're going to go walk around the city."

 "Why?"

 "Two reasons," she said.  "To give you some time to think about things without much stress, and see if someone comes looking for us."

 "Why would they do that?"

 "Because of what you did before I found you," he said simply.  "If they tie you to what happened, I need to know about it now.  We can only hope that you didn't leave many witnesses."

 "You make it sound so cold."

 "I am cold, Jula," he said bluntly.  "I don't care about the humans in this city.  They can all drop dead, as far as I'm concerned."  He stood up and looked down at her.  "Thanks to you, I have such a wonderfully cheerful outlook on life."

 "How many times do I have to say I'm sorry!" Jula flared, rising to her feet and getting in Tarrin's face.  Her eyes were hot and challenging, and she had her paws on her hips.

 "How many times can you say it?" he retorted in a low hiss.

 "How many times do you want to hear it?" she snapped.  "I ruined your life.  I admit it!  There, are you happy now?  I can't change what happened in the past, but don't pretend to say it's in the past, when you do nothing but remind me of it!"

 Tarrin took a step back and gave her a light look.  That confused her, her ears picking up as she stared into his face.  "Good."

 "What?"

 "I'm not teaching a mewling sheep, Jula.  You have spirit, and I want you to have spirit.  You'll need that spirit when you deal with your instincts.  I wanted to rouse your fighting spirit.  I see I finally hit a nerve."

 "You did that on purpose?" she said in surprise.

 He nodded.  "I've been goading you for a while now."

 She made an infuriated sound, stamping her foot on the ground.  "Don't play with me!" she shouted at him.

 "I'm not playing with you, cub.  I'm teaching you what you need to know.  You just learned that you are strong enough to challenge a stronger, dangerous adversary.  You'll need that when you face your other half."

 She glared at him, her ears trying to lay back.

 "Don't give me attitude, cub," he said in a dangerous tone.  "I'll beat it out of you."  She blew out her breath and looked away.  "Better.  Now let's get you some decent clothes, and walk around a while."

 "It's not me," Jula said clinically, twisting in a way no human could to look behind her.

 The pants were new.  Made of that Selani plant fiber whose name he could never remember, they were light and flexible, yet very strong.  This pair was dyed a very dark brown, like leather, and they fit her rather well.  Tarrin leaned against a wall in the shop of a clothier, and the small Arakite man looked at the pair of non- humans with obvious fear and worry.  Jula had the waist of the trousers in her paws, holding them up as far on her as she could to see how they fit her legs.  Her tail prevented her from pulling them all the way up.  Since her tail emerged from her back just at the top of the cleft of her buttocks, it preserved her modesty.  She had the robe hiked up so she could see the fit of the pants, and it was bunched up around the top of the breeches.

 "It's not the old you," Tarrin told her.  "Trust me.  After two days, you'll glare at me if I even mention a dress.  Dresses just won't work for you."  He turned to the small, thin, bald man calmly.  "We'll take them," he told the man in Arakite.

 "Ah, ah, yes, good master," he said in a thin, nervous voice, bowing several times.  "Would the lady like to wear them now, or should I wrap it up?"

 "She'll wear them," he said.  "Do you have any shirts like this one?"

 "Not linen, good master, but I do have some saiya fiber shirts."

 "Go get one," he said.  "A dark-colored one."

 "They didn't know you speak Arakite," Jula mentioned to him.  "What am I going to do with my tail?"

 He walked over to her and grabbed her tail by the base.  She squeaked a bit when he pulled it out of the way, then pulled the fabric up and over its base.  He noted the position of the bulge, then slit the fabric of the trousers with a single claw.  "Thread it through there," he told her.

 "Give a girl some warning next time," she said primly to him.  "If it were anyone else pawing me down there, he would have gotten slapped."  She expertly threaded the tip of her tail into the slit he made, pulling it through and smoothing the fur, then she pulled them up over her hips and buttoned them.  She swished her tail a few times.  "Nice," she said.  "It's not pinching."

 "I see you have full control of your extra parts," he noted.

 "It took some time.  Especially the ears.  They never wanted to go where I wanted them to go."  She turned around for his benefit.  "It still feels weird having these things clinging to my legs.  When did you learn Arakite?  You speak it like a native."

 "Back in Aldreth," he told her.

 "These aren't going to wear the fur off my knees, are they?"

 "They haven't worn it off mine," he replied.

 "You're wearing leather.  This is fabric."

 "Jesmind likes canvas pants, and she still has all her fur.  That's the best answer I can give you."

 "Canvas?  That much itch."

 "But it's tough," he said.  "Those pants won't last you very long, but they'll do until a tanner can measure you for some good leather trousers."

 "They seem pretty rugged to me."

 "It's cloth.  The claws on your feet will shred them inside three rides.  You need something tougher if you want it to last."

 The small clothier returned with a shirt the color of dark sand.  He held it up grandly for Tarrin to see.  "Is this acceptable, good master?" he asked nervously.

 "Try it on," he told Jula, taking it from the small man, then tossing it to her.

 Jula turned her back to them and pulled off her robe, then shrugged into the shirt.  It was a bit loose in the shoulders, tight in the bust, and it gave her lots of room in the stomach.  "Not quite," she said, turning around.   "This is a man's shirt.  I'm not quite that flat-chested."

 "The lady wants something more accommodating to her assets," Tarrin told the clothier blandly.

 "I'll find something, good master," he said with several rapid bows, then he scurried away.

 "I feel like a boy," Jula complained.

 "There's too much in that shirt for you to be a boy," he told her bluntly.

 Jula flushed slightly.  "You know what I mean.  I've never worn pants in my life."

 "You're not here to look pretty for the men, Jula," he reminded her.  "You're not a human lady anymore.  You're a Were-cat female, and this is what Were-cat females wear.  By this time tomorrow, you'll understand why."

 "You keep saying that.  Why?"

 "Do this," he said, squatting down and putting his paws on the ground between his knees, right beside his feet.

 "That looks silly.  You look like a frog."

 "It wasn't a request," he said flintily.

 Sighing, she mimicked his pose, squatting down and putting her paws down between her feet.  "This wouldn't be easy in a dress," she admitted.

 "And that's why you're not wearing one," he told her, standing back up.  "Tonight, you're coming with me, and I don't stroll along the street.  Two hours on the rooftops, and you'll be kissing my feet for getting you into a pair of pants rather than a skirt."

 "I didn't get much into physical activity after I recovered from our little meeting," she said as she stood back up.  "I had my Sorcery.  It was handy being stronger than three men, but I didn't use it all that much."

 "Part of what we are is what we can do," he told her.  "You'll find that out tonight."

 The clothier returned with three shirts, all of them a light sandy color.  "This is all I have for a woman, good master," he said apologetically.  "Only slave women wear such things, and I don't usually cater to them."

 "It'll do, shopkeeper," he said.  "Try these on," he told Jula.

 Jula took the shirts and turned her back to the two males, and tried on the shirts.  The first was too small, but the second fit her very well.  "This is the one," she stated, turning around for them.  "It's loose everywhere it needs to be loose."

 "We'll take it," Tarrin told the man.  "That's all we need."

 "Very well, good master," the small man said with a nervous laugh.  "The price will be twenty silver kangs."

 "Fine," he said, handing the man a handful of gold coins.  "Take what you need and give me change.  I'm sure you know better than to try to cheat me, human," he said grimly.

 The man's eyes widened.  "I'd never do such a thing, good master," he said quickly, bowing about ten times in five seconds.  He picked through the coins and took out two gold ones, then pushed the rest back to Tarrin.  "I'll bring you your change."

 "Keep it," Tarrin said with a wave of his paw.

 "Would you require anything else for your lady, good master?" he asked with a bright smile.  "A brush for her hair?"

 Tarrin glanced at the man.  "Actually, that's a good idea," he said.  "She does look a little frizzy."

 "I have a nice horsehair brush, backed with ivory and carved with a very nice design of a unicorn on its back.  It's a very nice piece.  Because of your generosity, I offer it to you at the bargain price of two gold shangs."

 "Bring it," he told the man tersely.

 "I have to fetch it from the storeroom," he said with another bow.  "I'll be right back."

 "What's he after now?" Jula asked curiously.  "He has more clothes that fit me?"

 "Something almost as good," Tarrin said.

 He returned a moment later, holding the brush.  It was indeed a very nice piece of crafted art.  The ivory was very old, yellowing, and carved in the back of the brush was a relief of a unicorn standing by a stream.  The brush's horsehair was much newer than the ivory back.  It had been rebristled.  The brush's handle was quite large, large enough for Jula to manipulate it very easily.  "Is this acceptable, good master?" he asked, holding it out.

 "Very nice," Tarrin admitted, taking it from him and looking it over.

 "A brush?  Tarrin, that's very thoughtful," Jula said sincerely.  "My hair is a mess.  If I felt it was safe, I'd kiss you."

 "If you don't feel good about yourself, then you won't be as prepared as you can be to face your instincts," he told her calmly.

 "Then let me put on a dress."

 "Not when it will interfere with my other lessons," he said.  "Just trust me about the dress, Jula."

 "Alright, but only because you're giving me that brush," she said with a slightly teasing smile.

 Tarrin paid the man for the brush, and handed it to Jula.  "It's lovely," she said with a smile, running a padded fingertip over the carved back of it.  "Thank you, Tarrin.  You almost make me think you care."

 Tarrin snorted.  "Let's go," he said.

 They walked for nearly an hour in complete silence.  Jula pulled the brush through the snags in her hair mechanically as they walked, smoothing it and restoring it to the beauty that he remembered when she was human.  People stared at them as they went by, even a few bands of the city's watch, but nobody challenged them, or so much as spoke to them.  Tarrin spent that time alternating between watching the people, watching for any kind of sneak attack, and observing Jula.  She seemed completely at ease now. There was no sense of her through the bond; she wasn't experiencing any one emotion strongly enough for it to seep through.  The fear and anxiety she'd felt before their talk had evaporated, and he hoped that it meant that her fears had been eased somewhat.  She invoked conflicting emotions in him, both anger and pain at the memory of what she did, and his paternal duty to protect her and prepare her for adulthood.  The long talk had had an effect on him as well.

 Jula wasn't quite what he expected.  He thought she'd be more combative, less willing to embrace her new role, less eager to betray her former employers by giving away their secrets.  But she had said it herself.  She was a survivor.  The memories he had of her reinforced that belief.  She would do what she needed to do to survive.  If that meant abandoning the ki'zadun, then that was what she would do.  If it meant submitting herself to him, when she knew he didn't like her, then she'd do it.  He didn't trust her, but his contempt for her had eased during the morning of interacting with her.  He didn't trust her, not by a long shot, but he didn't find the idea of spending long hours with her as repugnant as it seemed a few hours ago.  She proved to be intelligent, insightful, witty, surprisingly courageous, and just as charming as she had been when she beguiled his trust, then betrayed him.  But this time he had the upper hand, because he had her bond.  There would be no backstabbing this time.  Jula was very charismatic, alot like Dar, and few would be angry with her for very long.  That was a trait that had probably been very useful to her when she worked for the ki'zadun.  A few impish smiles, a few light words, and her misdeeds didn't seem quite as serious as they had been before she began.

 That also worked against her.  She was a manipulator, cunning and dangerous, and he knew it.  She had easily manipulated him into trusting her when he didn't really trust anyone, had even won the trust of his parents, who were not fools.  She was very good.  He would let her be nice to him, but he wasn't going to fall into that trap.  Until he knew beyond any doubt where she stood, he'd be very careful around her.

 That was one side. The other was the feelings he got from her through the bond.  Her fear and anxiety were genuine.  The anger she displayed towards her former employers was very genuine.  Her terror of going mad again was so obvious that he didn't even need the bond to know that it was sincere.  The relief she felt when she realized that he was going to help her was also genuine, as was the resolve he sensed from her.  She was serious about being his bond-child and conquering her instincts.  She would do whatever it took to stay sane.  The question was what she would do after she didn't need him anymore.

 In truth, he didn't care.  When she didn't need him anymore, he would release her.  He never had to see her again, and so long as she stayed away from him, they never had to cross paths.  As long as she didn't go back to working against him, they could both live peacefully.

 They stopped at an intersection and waited for a wagon to amble by, being pulled by a large, humped beast.  "What do your instincts tell you right now?" Tarrin asked abruptly.

 "Nothing," she replied.  "Just to be careful.  I feel...unsettled, being surrounded by so many humans.  It's almost like they mean to trap us here."

 "That's a normal reaction," Tarrin told her.  "What have they told you while we were walking?"

 "Nothing so strong it stood out," she replied after a moment.  "It's hard to sense them through the barrier you placed.  Things are clear only when they have a very strong reaction."

 "That's going to change," he told her as they started walking again.  "The weave will unravel as the days pass.  Every day, the Cat will be stronger, and you'll need to learn how to cooperate with it every day, like it was the first time.  After the spell wears off, you should be ready to achieve your balance.  By then, you'll have an understanding of what the instincts tell you, and how to listen to them.  There are just a few things you'll need to learn to help you cope."

 "Like what?"

 "You'll find out tomorrow," he told her.  "Right now, we're going back to the circus.  We'll have a long night, so we need to get some sleep."

 "What are we going to do, exactly?"

 "Hunt," he said with a strange eagerness in his voice.  "Tonight, you see what all your instincts are geared to do," he told her.  "By tomorrow morning, things are going to be much clearer."

 He left her sleeping in Renoit's tent.

 Jula.  Stranger things had happened to him.  Teaching her had brought him into closer contact with his own inner self, the Were-cat within him.  Telling her the things that he had learned reinforced them in his own mind, and in a strange way, it was helping him as much as it was her.

 He was feral.  He knew it, he accepted it.  In a way, he even preferred it.  But there was a price, just like Triana said there would be.  He had come to despise what he had become, because his feral nature had finally crossed the line of propriety to his human morality.  For a very long time, his balance had been owned by his instincts, by the Cat.  Now, his balance was beginning to shift, to sway back towards his humanity.  It would never go all the way, but he didn't want it to.

 He was a Were-cat.  It may not have been how he was born, but it was what he was.  He had accepted it long ago, because he didn't have a choice.  Then he embraced it, because it hurt less than accepting it, to not feel responsible for the things he was doing, but the changes it created inside him caused him a pain that never made it feel right.  Now, there was no more acceptance, no more embracing.  It merely was.  He was a Were-cat.  It was what he was, and it was what he would always be.  It had caused him pain, but it had also enriched his life.  It had been a double-edged sword, cutting him more than once.  He knew that, and he accepted it.

 He could admit it.  Whether he hated himself or he despised himself, it was what he was.  And now that he admitted it, he could take steps to change it.

 He didn't want to be anything other than a Were- cat.  That much was plain to him.  He had found his path.  It was what he did as a Were-cat that he wanted to change.  He accepted that he was feral, but he didn't want to end up like Mist.  He didn't want to be totally dominated by his emotions, his rage.  It was what he had attacked when he fought Jula, it was what he saw in her that struck a chord in himself.  It was something towards which he had steadily been progressing.  Faalken's death had intensified it, brought it out of him in a powerful display that he could no longer deny.  Faalken had shown him what he was starting to become, and it was another reason for him to thank his departed friend.  He had been on the path to total isolation, and that would have driven him mad.

 It was still all so new.  Just this morning, he had had his eyes opened to the truth about himself.  He knew now what had very nearly befallen him.  He couldn't change overnight, Jula had proven that to him, but at least now he knew what he was up against.  He had to be strong, like Mist.  She had overcome her instincts and reached out to him.  He was nowhere near as bad as she was, but he could do the same thing.  Not to reach out to a stranger, but to reign in his rage, to tone down the aggression and anger.  He would always be afraid of strangers, and the lives of those strangers would never mean as much to him as the lives of friends.  He just wanted to be able to consider the consequences before he acted.

 If that wasn't bad enough, now he had Jula to deal with.  He felt the weight of that duty, but talking to her, explaining to her the secrets of living with the Cat, had eased his concerns as much as hers.  Jula had a strong mind, and he was pretty sure that she could find her own balance.  He had hopes that she could find a place in Fae-da'Nar.  Spending a morning with her, talking to her, being exposed to her had shown him that he could control himself.  He didn't like Jula, but he could supress it to fulfill his obligation to her, his duty.  She was his child, and she was his responsibility.  He doubted he'd ever like her, not like he liked his friends, but he could tolerate her.

 Tolerating Jula.  The one person to which he could point and blame for all his pain.  Life was full of ironies.

 Teaching her was teaching him, too.  It was reconnecting him to his own nature, reminding him of who he was and what it meant to him.  At least in that regard, he didn't regret taking her as his child.  He only hoped that he could teach her as well as Triana, his own bond-mother, had taught him.

 Tarrin found Allia sitting in the field, well away from the tents.  The circus was performing, and every once in a while, he could hear the applause or gasps of delight issue from the huge performing tent.  There were a good number of people walking around on the huge field, a park inside the city, but they gave Allia's place a wide berth as the Selani sat silently facing the setting sun, her face serene and her eyes closed.  He sat down beside her without a word of greeting, waiting for her to respond to his presence.

 "You're growing, my brother," she said in a serene voice.  "Why did you take Jula?  Why didn't you kill her?"

 "I wanted to," he replied honestly.  He had stopped hiding from her a long time ago.  There was nothing he wouldn't tell her now, just as it had been back when they were in the Tower.  "I was totally enraged.  But when I had her down, when I had her, all I could see when I looked at her was myself.  That's when it hit me."

 "What?"

 "That I was becoming what I hated the most," he said honestly.  "If I would have killed her, I'd have become her.  Only I'd be doing what I did because of conscious choice, not because I was mad."

 "So, you finally see what I have always seen," she said, opening her brilliant eyes and smiling at him.  "That you are not what you seem to be."

 "I was what I seemed to be, sister," he said quietly, picking at the tip of his tail absently.  "I can admit that.  I was every bit the monster.  And the sad thing is that even though I know it, I still don't know if I can change it.  I don't really know what I want to change, but I need to do something.  It won't be easy.  That part of me is instinctive, and you have no idea how hard it is to control something when you do it before you think about what you're doing."

 "Nothing of worth is easy," she told him.

 "I'm worried, deshaida.  I'll never completely control the rage.  Triana told me that, told me that no Were-cat ever has complete control.  I don't feel sorry about it when I kill someone that really deserves it.  I'm just afraid of how I'll feel if I kill someone that didn't deserve it."

 "Triana told you that the key to handling rage was learning how to not harm those you would regret harming," she said.  "It sounds like your only problem is that you wish to be in control of who you decide to kill.  That's what you're finding intolerable about yourself.  Not that you kill, but that you don't know if you're killing people who deserve to die."

 He nodded solemnly.

 "That won't require a great change on your part, my brother," she smiled.  "Look at Triana.  She's nearly as bad as you when it comes to punishing people.  The only difference is that she doesn't kill indiscriminately.  The people she kills are killed because she had a good reason to do it.  Could you live with yourself if you were like Triana?"

 "Yes," he replied after a moment.

 "Then that's what you need to focus on.  All you need to learn is when to spare a life rather than when to take a life, just like when you spared Jula.  Triana would not have killed Jula.  She would be very, very angry with her, but she would not kill her.  You did exactly what Triana would do, and I see it made you feel better."

 "It did, in a weird way," he admitted.

 "There you are," she said with a glorious smile.  "It's not something to fret over for tendays, my brother.  The easier you make a problem seem, the easier it is to solve."

 "I guess so," he sighed.  "It didn't seem that simple when I thought about it."

 "You sought to transform yourself, and that is a daunting proposition," she smiled gently.  "I know you, my brother, you yearned for what you were before you became a Were-cat, but you know deep inside that you can never be that again.  You found you hated what you saw in yourself, and you felt that the only way to feel good about yourself was to completely change everything about you, unsure of which change would be the one to bring peace to your mind.  Because you couldn't put your finger on exactly what most bothered you."

 Tarrin sighed and nodded.

 "But that's not what you need.  You need your anger, and you need your mistrust.  In what we're doing, they are very healthy traits to have.  You need to be feral, my brother, and you need that killer instinct to give you the edge in this dangerous game we play.  All you need to do is try to be like Triana.  Ask yourself what she would do if she were in your position, then try to do the same thing.  As long as you do that, you can't go wrong.  You know Triana, my brother, you understand her and what she does.  If you do the same thing she would do, then you have done the right thing."

 Tarrin blew out his breath, then he looked to his sister and smiled.  She was right.  She was always right.  She could see right into the core of his confusion, and see exactly what needed to be done to set his mind at ease.  "Why is it that you can always sum up my life in one sentence?" he said gently, reaching out and taking her hand.

 "That's easy, deshida.  You're not all that complicated," she winked.  "I know your heart, Tarrin," she said with a serious look in her eyes, but that same gentle smile.  "It cries out to me of your pain, and it tells me what it needs to feel whole.  I just tell you what your heart tells me to tell you, that's all."

 He pulled her against him, and she leaned her head on his shoulder.  He would be lost without Allia.  She was so important to him, the rock upon which the foundation of his life was placed.  Any time he felt lost or confused, any time he needed love and support, she was there.  He loved her, loved her so deeply it defied rational explanation, a bond that sealed them together in ways few could even comprehend.  "My heart thanks you, my sister," he said lovingly.  "I love you."

 "I love you too, my brother," she replied, putting her arm around him.  "I love you too."

©2000, James Galloway. All Rights Reserved.