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Chapter 12

By general assent amongst the three Were-cats, they decided that it might be best to stay over until the next day. After all, it wasn’t every day that a god manifested itself in the throne room of a kingdom’s ruler and proclaimed in no uncertain terms that this was the way things were going to be. There were sure to be some unforeseen repercussions, and it would be better if Tarrin, Triana, and Jula were at hand to possibly help put out any small fires that might erupt over this earth-shaking revelation. They, combined with Keritanima, had enough raw magical firepower to handle just about any emergency.

There was most certainly a radical change that came over the Wikuni who were privileged--or cursed, as the case may be--to be present at that most wondrous event. After the requisite moments of disbelief, then the denial, then the terror-induced realization, came the inevitable sullen acceptance, tinged with mind-numbing fear of what would happen if they disobeyed. Kikkalli hadn’t mentioned any certain punishments, but the threat of dire and messily irrevocable punishment had been more than blatant during her blistering tirade. They were like a bunch of children who had just had their favorite toys taken away by their parents, parents who had indulged them, and then endured them once they got spoiled, but now had put down a firm hand and backed it with enough threat to make the ultimatum stick. Those who were still conscious stumbled out of Keritanima’s throne room after quite a long time, shocked and demoralized and not a little frightened, for they now were fully cognizant of the simple fact that nothing and no one was going to unseat Keritanima and unhinge the reforms she was pushing upon her people. Those reforms came with the explicit blessing of the leader of the Wikuni pantheon of gods, and that made them the unchallenged laws of the land.

Several had to be carted out on stretchers. Those were the ones who had had a direct hand in Miranda’s abduction, and Kikkalli’s angry promise to exact vengeance against them for daring to put her Avatar in harm’s way still hung over them like the executioner’s axe. They didn’t know that Miranda was an Avatar, of course, but then again, they didn’t need to know why Kikkalli was so attached to Miranda to fear her punishment for doing her harm. The fact that she was, she was angry, and she was looking for some payback was all the information their dangerous little minds needed to make them pass out in terror. One did not dismiss the wrath of an angry god.

There was also something of a row over Tarrin. During Kikkalli’s visitation, Tarrin had been the only person in the throne room who had not knelt. The nobles who had noticed that were dreadfully insulted and offended, feeling that Tarrin had blasphemed Kikkalli by not showing her the respect due to her divinity.But the simple fact was, Tarrin had never knelt because he had not felt all that particularly overwhelmed by Kikkalli’s presence. Gods had that effect on mortals. Their very presence inspired awe and amazement, at least when they meant it. Kikkalli had certainly had her divine aura wrapped around herself for that blistering rant in the throne room, but it really hadn’t had any effect on him. He figured that it was because he was so close to Niami that the awe-inspiring presence of a god simply didn’t do much for him in the awe inspiration department. He knew the truth about the gods, that they weren’t all quite as divine as they wanted the mortals to believe, but that was a secret he had the sense not to divulge. All he really saw was one seriously ticked off goddess, not a terrifying figure of immeasurable might and wonder.

The nobles were highly insulted and offended by Tarrin, but two facts kept roiling around in their minds as they considered how to go about punishing him for his transgression. First, that Tarrin was probably the single-most powerful magic-user in the entire world, with an extremely dark reputation. They feared that any attempt that failed would lead to the wanton destruction of half of the city of Wikuna, Keritanima’s intervention or no Keritanima’s intervention. The second irrefutable fact was the simple fact that Kikkalli had looked directly at Tarrin when she had appeared in the throne room, and had done nothing to make him kneel before her. That meant that he was favored in the eyes of Kikkalli, and they had already seen how protective Kikkalli was over the mortals she favored. Keritanima and Miranda were beyond off-limits in the dark games of noble intrigue now, and since Tarrin seemed to have similar favor in her eyes, that made him a dangerous target to pursue. Not only because he could destroy an entire noble house in retaliation, but because it would be a race between Tarrin and Kikkalli to see who would get to the offending noble house first.

That was a race whose finish line the nobles would rather not have either participant reach.

The firestorm of rumor was not contained to the palace, of that the gods made certain. They had spread omens, visitations, manifestations, and other amazing phenomenon across the city of Wikuna to put the city into an uproar, and only when the stunning news of what had transpired in the throne room did the sages and wiser citizens of the city piece things together. The Wikuni gods very rarely took direct action as they had, because they liked to see how far their children could go without their help. But for some reason, the gods felt that what Keritanima was doing with Wikuna was of vital importance, so much so that they were willing to actually directly intervene to keep the nobles from trying to unseat the queen and restore the old ways. That made Tarrin understand the tremendous impact of Kikkalli’s appearance, because it was such an incredibly rare thing. The Wikuni never forgot about their gods, and enjoyed the gift of their magic to the Priests, but they almost never saw them take direct action. They always remained aloof and neutral, always supporting but never judging…at least until now. The Wikuni society had been judged, and it had been found lacking.

But such drastic impacts to the theological cornerstones of the sages meant very little to the people directly involved with it. Keritanima spent every moment at the side of the bed to which Miranda had been brought, holding her hand and being there for her until she regained cosciousness, but there was a haunted fear in her eyes. That blabbering High Priest of Kikkalli obviously had quite a bit more training and understanding of the workings of gods than most, and realized that what had happened with Miranda happened because she was an Avatar. That jittery fool had spread that information through the Palace almost immediately, screaming it hysterically to almost anyone whom he could grab hold of long enough to tell. That had reached Keritanima, and she had dismissed the idea of it almost immediately, but there was a hint of worry behind her eyes.

Tarrin wasn’t sure why she’d think any differently of Miranda than before, but then again, Wikuni were odd people who had funny ideas. But then again, Tarrin had known Miranda’s secret for so long that it was hard to remember what he thought of her before he knew. To him, she was just Miranda. The fact that she was an Avatar went hand in hand with her very identity, even if that fact really made no difference. She wasn’t the mortal hand servant and creation of a god, she was a clever, dangerous young woman with a sharp mind, an appealing and thoroughly enjoyable personality, and a wicked sense of humor.

Perhaps that was the problem. Tarrin had pondered on it for a while on the top balcony of the Palace, looking down towards the sea as the sun set over the land behind them. Keritanima was worried that Miranda wasn’t the person she thought she was. No matter how people remembered Miranda, now they’d forget it all and only see the part of her that had never really mattered in the first place. The part of her that even she didn’t know was there.

He thought about it for quite a while, until Triana wandered up and shared some space with him beside the balcony’s rail. The rail didn’t even come up to their hips, a poignant reminder that they were giants living in a world of little people. Had they been afraid of heights, perhaps standing there would have been a tad unnerving. Triana’s breath misted up in the cold late fall air, and the dusty smell of snow was heavy on the rising wind.

“You seem a little pensive, cub,” she said after a moment. “Thinking about Miranda?”

“Yes and no,” he answered, looking out over the dark water on the far side of the city. He wasn‘t surprised that Triana knew exactly what he was thinking. “Just thinking about how people’s opinions can change.”

“It’s the fickle nature of the smaller races, cub,” she answered. “Both human and Wikuni.”

“That fickle nature isn’t just theirs,” Tarrin told her. “Fae-da’Nar is just as judgemental. For them, one act can mean execution.”

“That has nothing to do with our natures, cub. That has to do with law.”

“Does it? Rahnee does one thing, and Jesmind hates her for a century. One human does one thing against Mist, and it turns her feral and makes her hate all of them. One act did the same to me. Are we really any different than they are, mother?”

“Wheat and barley, cub,” she told him. “It’s not the same standard. You’re talking about instinct. They do it because of society. It’s a flaw in character, not mentality.”

He crossed his arms and looked down into the Palace’s courtyard, with its lovely fountain. “Sometimes it makes me wonder about me,” he told her. “Mother was right about how people might react to Miranda. I wonder how they’d react to me.”

“React to what?”

He looked at her. “I don’t really know what I am anymore, mother,” he told her. “It’s gone beyond being a Were-cat. When Mother restored me after I destroyed Val, she told me that I was something that even the gods weren’t sure about. A mortal with a god’s soul, that’s what she told me. Some of them call me a demi-god. I wonder, if people knew that, would it change what they think about me?”

“You? I doubt it,” she told him. “Most people think you’re all but a god anyway. To someone who has no experience with the kind of power sui’kun wield, any of you would look like a god to the average nonmagical human. It’s all a matter of perspective, cub.”

“But does knowing that change what you think of me?” he asked her pointedly.

“Not a bit,” she snorted. “Whatever they say you are or whatever you happen to be, as far as I’m concerned, you’ll never need to be anything other than my son. As long as you stay that, what else you happen to be means absolutely nothing.”

There wasn’t much he could say to that. Tarrin put his arm on her shoulder, she put her paw on his back, and they watched the sky turn dark together.

He wasn’t there when Miranda woke up, but he talked to Keritanima not long afterward, and she seemed to be fine. She was sleeping naturally now, so Tarrin decided to let her sleep. He had little doubt that what Kikkalli did had drained her, and she needed a great deal of good solid rest. He didn’t feel sleepy, so he decided to wander the streets of Wikuni hidden under an Illusion to hear what the citizens had to say about what happened earlier. It was all they could talk about, of course, and after about half a night of eavesdropping, he concluded that the people of Wikuni not only liked what had happened, they were looking forward to what would happen next. Keritanima was detested by the nobles, but she was wildly popular among the commoners because they saw her to be a champion of their causes. Most of her reforms had lowered their taxes, reduced the burdens placed upon them, given them real political power, and addressed many of the long-standing grudges that they had had against the ruling class. The common folk were prospering like they had never prospered before, and they placed all the responsibility for that prosperity firmly on their young queen.

Tarrin realized that the nobles had lost the instant the common people threw their support behind Keritanima. No matter what they did, even if they had managed to have Kalina assassinate the sashka, the common folk would have risen up and rebelled. It would have been a revolution, and it was a revolution that the nobles would have lost, because the Vendari would take no sides in such a matter. Once their business with Keritanima was completed, they would have voided the treaty binding Wikuna and Vendaka together and returned to their homeland. That would leave the nobles open and vulnerable to an angry mob of thousands upon thousands of Wikuni commoners.

Kalina. Whatever happened with her? Tarrin wasn’t there when the sashka finally got to the throne room, and he had little doubt that Keritanima had sent Jervis to recover Kalina from her captors. He’d only met Kalina once, and thought her to be a crude, foul-mouthed wench with little taste. In other words, a typical harlot. He had not been overly impressed with her, but on the other hand, she had shown no fear at all towards him, and that raised his opinion of her by a few notches.

He was sure that she was alright. Keritanima didn’t forget her friends.

Tarrin returned to the Palace just after dawn, satisfied that everything was going to be just fine in Wikuna, and it was alright for the Were-cats to return home. He wanted to see Miranda before he left, but as soon as that was done, he’d be returning home to resume his training.

He didn’t make it past the beautiful fountain that decorated the courtyard in front of the grand structure. A Wikuni stepped out of the shadow of the fountain, and Tarrin immediately identified her as none other than Kikkalli, in the pseudo-flesh of her animated icon. He knew from her image that she was a fox Wikuni, like Keritanima, but she didn’t look anything like her. Kikkalli was a silver fox, with glittering silver fur that shimmered in the morning sunlight. What was most remarkable about this form, her chosen appearance for her icon, was that it was so unremarkable. She was a handsome woman, but not breathtakingly beautiful. She was sleek and appealing in form, but not voluptuous or enchanting. She was tall and imposing, but was no taller than a Wikuni was meant to be. Her icon carried no unnatural traits that would give it away, like the Goddess’ glowing white eyes and seven-colored hair. Kikkalli was quite modest in her chosen form. She wore a white sailor’s shirt with long flared sleeves and a pair of sleek black trousers with flared legs, and a tattered blue sash around her waist that swayed and billowed as if blown by the wind, though the air was calm. Her gaze was icy, penetrating, but it carried a vast wisdom behind her gray eyes that belied the unassuming appearance of her icon. Tarrin realized that this icon was one that allowed her to go anywhere and observe anything without giving her true identity away. Not that that was much of an issue, since gods could simply create a projection of themselves that was as solid as flesh, a solid illusion of sorts that many would call an Avatar, but which was only a trick of magic.

Kikkalli wasn’t an Elder God like Mother, however. She was a Younger God, and Tarrin remembered vaguely that they had different rules. Maybe Kikkalli needed an unremarkable image for her icon for some reason.

Then again, the entire matter was a moot point, since Kikkalli could change the appearance of an icon whenever she wished. Kikkalli could make her icon’s appearance as grand or as mundane as she wanted. It would take a little doing, but it could be done. Changing the appearance of an icon wasn’t as easy as shifting the appearance of an Illusion.

She said nothing. She simply stood there for a moment, looking him up and down with a critical eye. “That Illusion looks silly on you,” she finally announced.

Tarrin chuckled ruefully and banished it. “I know, but at least I don’t attract as much attention as I do this way, Mistress,” he answered her, remembering his manners in dealing with other gods. “What did you need of me?”

“You must speak to Miranda,” she told him without preamble or pleasantries. “She is very distressed. The truth of her existence has caused her to question her very being. She needs comforting and guidance, and only you can provide it.”

“I’d do it even without your command, Mistress,” he told her immediately.

“Your devotion to Miranda pleases me,” she told him in an approving tone. “I believe the others are wrong about you.”

Tarrin glanced at her. “What others, Mistress?”

“The gods,” she answered. “They all watch you. They keep track of you, and not a moment goes by that debate over you does not rage among us. All of us watch you, even gods of peoples you have never seen before. Never before has a single mortal captured our attention as you have.”

“What do you think they’re wrong about, Mistress?”

She said nothing, only staring at him with those penetrating eyes. Then she smiled ever so slightly.

“Typical,” he told her with a sly smile.

“Never that, Tarrin Kael,” she told him in a nearly playful manner. “The fox is anything but typical.”

Tarrin chuckled, then nodded to her, and then he walked away, knowing that she had said everything she wanted to say. Besides, she had told him to do something, and it was something that he most certainly wanted to do.

He found Miranda in a small antechamber on the top floor of the Palace, which was little more than a closet within the attic. It hadn’t been easy to track her down, since nobody had really seen her, even Keritanima, since she had woke up. He’d been forced to use Sorcery to find her. The little room had the look of a bechamber, for it had a single tiny bed, little more than a cot, and a small night table, and nothing else. It did have a tiny barred window on the wall facing the door, which looked down over a tiled roof towards the sea. The window had no glass pane, and it made the little room quite chilly, for there was nothing holding the sharply cold air outside into the room. The place had the look of a prison cell with its starkness, but there was no lock on the door. Miranda was wearing the same dress she had worn to the throne room the day before, but it was wrinkled and disheveled, and the fur covering her sharp-muzzled face was streaked with mats that ran down from her eyes. She had been crying, and quite prodigiously.

Her body was at a profile to him, as she sat at the foot of the bed and looked out the little window, but her glance towards the door showed him the evidence of her weeping before she looked back out the window. “Go away, Tarrin,” she said in a hoarse voice.

“No,” he said bluntly, ducking so he could get into the room.

“Are you deaf? I said go away!” she said angrily, turning and glaring at him.

“Make me,” he declared, closing the door behind him. “Since I don’t think you can do it, you’re stuck with me.”

“Are you so sure about that?” she said in a scathing manner, which he realized immediately was self-accusing. “I might burn you to ashes where you stand!”

“You couldn’t burn me with all the fire in the world,” he replied calmly, sitting down beside her. “And I could never be afraid of you.”

That one statement seemed to release a flood of emotion from her. She lunged into his chest and clung to his vest tightly as she started weeping all over again. Tarrin put his arms around her and comforted her without words, simply letting her get over her surge of emotion. It took a while, but eventually her sobs eased, and she simply clung to him like a frightened child.

“Now,” he said gently. “What’s wrong?”

“How can you ask that?” she said in a strangled voice, pushing away and looking up at him without letting go of his vest, her breath misting around her muzzle. “Have you heard what they’ve been saying? Do you have any idea what it means?”

“They don’t understand much of anything, Miranda,” he told her bluntly. “And I know what you are.”

“I’m not real!” she cried hysterically, holding her hands out in front of him. “It’s all a lie, Tarrin! I’m not a person! I’m, I’m, I’m a creation! Don’t you know what that means? It means that everything I’ve ever been and everything I thought I was doesn’t matter! I’m just a shadow of someone else!”

“Listen to yourself,” he told her. “I, I, I. If you were nothing but a shadow of Kikkalli, would you be saying I?” he asked her with quiet intensity, staring right into her eyes. “You’d be saying we or she, not I.”

“That’s what makes it a lie!” she screamed at him. “All this time I thought I was just like everyone else! I thought I had parents, I thought I had a life! But it’s all nothing but a big lie, Tarrin! I’m not a person, I’m an Avatar! I’m just an extension of a god, and when she doesn’t have any more use for me, I’ll disappear like I never was! Like I never mattered!” she ended with a disjointed scream, then buried her face in her hands and started weeping all over again. “It’s all a lie!” she said from between her hands, her voice muffled by her hands and her sobs. “Everything is a lie!”

Tarrin grabbed her hands and pulled them apart. Miranda didn’t have the strength to resist him, so she found herself staring into his hard, almost cold eyes. “Listen to me,” he told her in a very quiet, very intense voice. “You are wrong. You have no idea what any of it means, so you’re just jumping to conclusions.”

“I am not!” she snapped at him. “The High Priest told Keritanima that I’d disappear! He said I’m not a real person!”

“He’s a fool,” he said with narrowing eyes. “He thinks you’re what he was trained to believe you are. He doesn’t understand. And you’re being foolish to believe his words over your own heart. Think, Miranda!” he said sharply. “If you were nothing but the Avatar he believes you to be, why have you nearly been killed several times? Why do you bleed?”

She looked blankly at him. Tarrin shifted his grip and extended the claw on his index finger, and sank it into her forearm. “Ow!” she yelped, pulling her arm away and putting her other hand over it after Tarrin let her go. Tarrin grabbed her hand and pulled it away, then grabbed her wrist and pulled her arm out to display it to her, to show her the red stain blooming in the white fur on her arm.

“That’s because you’re flesh and blood,” he told her. “The kinds of Avatar that that Priest thinks you are is nothing but magic, but you’re not! You’re flesh and blood, Miranda! You have a body, and you have a mind, and you have a soul! You’re as real a person as Kerri is, as I am, as anyone is! You bleed, and you feel pain, and you have emotions. That makes you as real as I am!”

“How can you know that!” she accused. “You’re not a god, Tarrin! All this time I thought I was like everyone else, and now I know all this time, it hasn’t been me! I’m not a real person, just--”

Tarrin put a paw over her muzzle to silence her. “I know,” he told her intently. “I know a lot more than you think I do, more than anyone could ever guess. I’ve never lied to you, Miranda, and I’m not lying to you now. You are not what you’re screaming that you believe you are.”

“But--”

“There is no but,” he cut her off by pushing his paw against her face gently. “I’m telling you right now that you’re not just a temporary creation. You’re a Wikuni. You were born, you grew up, and now you’re an adult. The fact that you’re an Avatar never meant anything until yesterday. Until that moment, you were just as normal as any other Wikuni.”

“How can you know that!?” she accused.

“Because I was told,” he admitted. “Niami, my goddess, has known about you the whole time, and she told me two years ago.”

“You knew?” she gasped. “And you never told me?!”

“Yes, I’ve known, and I didn’t tell you because I was told not to,” he told her. “I think Mother was worried that you might react to that news in just the way that you’re reacting now.”

She glared at him suspiciously.

“Let me explain it, Miranda,” he told her, urging her to sit down beside him. “Just the way it was explained to me.” She sat down and watched him with shimmering eyes. “From the way I understand it, Miranda, you were destined to be born all along. No matter what would have happened, you would have been born and probably lived the life you’ve pretty much lived. But Kikkalli, who’s the goddess who made you an Avatar, must have known what was going to happen in the future. I’m not entirely sure how she figured that out, because usually the gods can’t see into the future, since the future really doesn’t exist.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” she said in a less hostile manner.

“I know, but I don’t think Mother has ever managed to explain that idea in a way I can understand,” he said self-deprecatingly. “I’m not smart enough. Anyway, what makes you an Avatar is the fact that Kikkalli decided that Keritanima was going to need help, so she touched you with her power before you were born. She adjusted you a little to make you a better companion for Kerri, and better able to help her in what she had to do.”

“Adjusted?”

“I recall that Mother said that she made you smart enough to keep up with Kerri. I think she also instilled into you a loyalty to Kerri that would keep others from luring you away from her,” he answered. “But that’s all she did. No divine powers, nothing that made you any different than any other Wikuni except for the fact that you’d be smarter than most of them and they couldn’t bribe or persuade you to change sides.”

She seemed to digest that for quite a long time, her eyes flashing from time to time as that remarkable mind of hers analyzed this information. “That’s all?”

“That’s all,” he told her. “But since you are an Avatar of Kikkalli, she can use you as a direct doorway into our world. That’s what she did yesterday in the throne room. But that didn’t come from you, it came from her.”

Miranda was quiet a long time. “I’d never been so terrified in my life,” she shivered. “It was like I’d been pushed out of my own body. I could see and hear everything, but I couldn’t stop it, and I couldn’t get control of myself. It was like I was watching myself do all those things, and the feeling of the power frightened me like I’ve never been frightened before,” she admitted. “I was terrified the whole time, and when it was over, I ended up back in control of myself so quickly that I was overwhelmed by it all.”
“Does that help, Miranda?” he asked, putting a paw on her leg.

“A little, but it doesn’t change much,” she answered honestly. “I still feel like I’m, I’m, I’m someone else. Nothing makes sense anymore. All this time I’ve been living a life that’s a lie, because it was a life without knowing what I know now, a life where I really didn’t have any choices. I can’t help but ask if this is really who I am.”

It was much the same as before, but at least her statements lacked the histrionics. These were the observations of a rational woman, not the frenzied half-formed impulses of a frightened girl.

“You’re Miranda,” he told her. “You are my friend, and you always will be.”

She gave him a wan smile, a pitiful attempt at the cheeky grin for which she was so famous. “But who is Miranda, Tarrin? I hope you can tell me, because I honestly don’t know.”

“That, well, I can’t help you there,” he sighed. “Who truly knows who we are? Not even we do, sometimes.”

“Not like this.”

“Yes, like this,” he told her. “I feel that way myself sometimes, but there’s usually so much going on in my life, I don’t have any time to think about it.” He looked to her. “Do you know what happened when I destroyed Val?”

She gave him a curious look. “We were there, Tarrin,” she told him. “You bloody well nearly blew up the entire world. There’s still a hole in the ground some twenty miles wide up there, and Kerri says there always will be.”

“That’s what you saw, Miranda. Do you know what happened between me and him?”

“Everyone knows that, Tarrin. You used the Firestaff and became a god, then turned around and destroyed both Val and yourself.”

“And I came back to life.”

“You planned that,” she reminded him.

“I did, but I didn’t expect what happened afterward,” he confided. “Mother--Niami, she told me when I used the Firestaff to become a god, it changed my soul into a god’s soul. When Mother used my hair and the Soultrap to restore me, she said that my soul was still a god‘s soul.” He sighed and looked at her. “They’re all afraid of me, I think. The gods,” he told her. “I’m not supposed to be here. When I used the Soultrap to save myself, I came back as a mortal, but I still have a god’s soul. The gods call me a demi-god, because I have a god‘s soul placed inside a mortal‘s body. Mother thinks that I might have some abilities from when I was a god, but I think she’s wrong. I’ve been back for over a year now, and nothing unusual has happened. I don’t really think about it, though. I can’t change it. Nobody can.

“So, Miranda, when I tell you that I can relate to what you may be feeling, believe me. You’re not the only one who’s not sure what you really even are.”

She was quiet for a long moment, then put her arm on his shoulder, right over his brand. “Thank you for telling me that, Tarrin,” she said quietly. “I get the feeling that it’s not something you’d share with anyone.”

“I told Triana,” he admitted. “But then again, I don’t really keep any secrets from her. What’s the point?”

Miranda chuckled ruefully. “No argument there. She finds out what she wants to know, and nobody can stop her.”

“Exactly.”

“I guess we’re kindred spirits, then,” she told him. “People who don’t really belong anywhere.”

“We belong where we belong, Miranda,” he said.

She laughed. “That’s a silly statement.”

“Is it? We belong where we are, Miranda.”

“Is it?” she mirrored. “I’m here, I belonged, because I was made to belong. Remember? That’s what I don’t think you can understand. Are my friends really my friends, or are they just people that the Avatar in me forced me to like? Is this really where I belong? Is this the life I was meant to have, or the life that I was forced to want? I just don’t know anymore, Tarrin.”

“Well, then you need to find out,” he announced.

“What? How?”

“You remember what Kikkalli said. She said that nobody has to hide behind the masks that politics forced on them anymore. That includes you, Miranda. Now that the nobles won’t dare lay a finger on Kerri, she doesn’t need you the way she did before. That means that you have the time to discover what you want for yourself. Wikuna’s not going to fall apart if you’re not here to keep it all together, at least not anymore. For the first time in your life, you can do whatever you want, be whatever you want. So you should go find out and see the world, go out and explore, go out and find out who Miranda really is.

“And when you find out, we’ll all be right here waiting for you,” he told her. “Because I know that this is where you belong. You just need to find that out for yourself.”

She looked at him for a long time, and then she burst into tears and hugged him. “I don’t know who I am anymore or where I belong, but the one thing I know is that you’ll always be my friend,” she announced jerkily.

“That’s all that matters to me, Miranda,” he told her gently, patting her on the back. “That’s all that matters.”

He didn’t want to see her go, but he knew that it was for the best.

Miranda commandeered Tarrin as soon as she recovered herself, calmed down enough to be able to think properly. She didn’t want to tell anyone that she was leaving, mainly because of all the rumors that were flying about her, and the fact that Tarrin could tell that she didn’t want to have to face anyone else, not even Keritanima. That was a very easy thing to do when one’s friend had the capability of taking her anywhere in the world where he had once been for a reasonable amount of time.

And so, about an hour after their serious talk, Tarrin and Miranda disappeared from Wikuna. Miranda hated boats--she was probably the only Wikuni alive that did--so she had him take her to Dayisè, the one place where a Wikuni would attract absolutely no attention outside of Wikuna itself. He gave her a purse full of gold and the assurance that he wouldn’t disturb her, but if she ever got in trouble, he’d know about it and come to help.

“And how would you know that?” she had demanded on the docks of Dayisè.

“Kikkalli will know, she’ll tell Mother, and Mother will tell me,” he answered bluntly. “Or she may simply ignore etiquette and contact me directly. Either way, I don’t care, as long as they tell me in time to get to you before something bad happens.”

“How is she going to know?”

He gave her a condescending look. “Miranda, you’re an Avatar,” he told her. “That means that you have the gift of a god inside you. The god who gave you that gift has a connection to you, and that’s Kikkalli. She’ll know where you are, and she’ll know if you get into trouble you can’t handle.”

“You mean that my whole life, Kikkalli has seen everything I’ve ever done?” she asked, her nose paling slightly in shock and humiliation.

“Yes. But since it’s Kikkalli, I don’t think she’d be overly offended by your actions,” he told her. “After all, she put you with Keritanima to protect her, and Kikkalli is more than familiar with the seedy nature of Wikuni politics.”

“It’s embarrassing,” she had said in a guilty tone.

“How do you think I’d feel if I weren‘t a Were-cat?” he had snorted. “I have a bloody audience watching me, all the time.”

Miranda had given him a startled look, then burst into laughter. “I guess to them, you’re nothing but an actor on a stage, peforming for their entertainment,” she teased him.

“I need a new line of work,” he had grunted.

He left her not long after that, after a few quick and emotional farewells, and numerous warnings from Tarrin that she’d better take care of herself.

He had mixed emotions about it. He didn’t like simply abandoning her in Dayisè that way, but in another way, he fully understood what she was going through and what she needed to do to return peace to herself. He had needed a journey of self-discovery of his own to come to terms with his ferality and learn how to control it, when the Goddess had sent him through the desert, and now Miranda needed a journey to discover who she was. It couldn’t be easy for her. In her eyes, her very existence had come into question, and she had to find out for herself if she really was her own person, or if she was nothing but a shadow, a puppet, a pet of the god who had, to her, created her. Everything that she was had come into question, and that kind of inner turmoil was something to which Tarrin could easily relate.

He was just being overprotective, and he knew it. Miranda had spent most of her life with Keritanima, and under her protection, but she was a big girl, wise in the ways of the street and very cunning. She’d be just fine. In a few months, he hoped, she’d get off a Wikuni ship back in Wikuna with full confidence in herself and at peace with the revelation of her being. Knowing Miranda, she’d own that ship.

That little bit of business successfully brought to a close, Tarrin tersely told Keritanima that Miranda was taking a personal journey. Keritanima shouted and threatened and raged and harangued--she even begged--but Tarrin would not tell her where he’d taken her. She was about to send out her fleet to track her down and bring her home, just as her father had done to her, but Tarrin bluntly told her to butt out of it. It was something that Miranda needed to do, and the last thing she needed was Keritanima putting her hands into something that was an entirely private matter.

“How can you be so calm!” Keritanima raged at him as they stood in her private bedchamber. Rallix, Binter, and Sisska were with them, as they almost always were near Keritanima. “We can’t leave Miranda out there by herself, Tarrin! She’s family!”

“You have little faith in her,” Tarrin said, almost coldly. “And you’re being very selfish.”

“I’m what?” she said hotly.

“You want her back because you don’t want her to go. That’s all it is. You don’t care that Miranda needs to do this, because all you can think about is the fact that Miranda’s not here.”

Rallix, who was sitting at the desk, tried to suppress a chuckle, which earned him a withering stare from his wife. “She’s family, Tarrin, and we don’t abandon family.”

“Rationalize it any way you want, Kerri,” he said with a wave of his paw. “But the only reason you want her back is because you don’t want to be without her.”

Keritanima was silent, but she did manage to glare at him quite impressively.

“Miranda’s a big girl, Kerri. She’ll be alright. And I’m going to be watching her, so she’s not going to get into anything that I can’t get her out of.”

Sisska nodded simply. “Then the matter is settled,” she announced in her deep bass voice. “I trust you with my child, Tarrin.”

“Don’t change sides on me now, Sisska!” Keritanima said indignantly.

“There are no sides,” she answered. “I will worry for Miranda, but if Tarrin watches over her, then I know she will be safe. If this is what Miranda wants, then so long as Tarrin protects her, I have no reason to object. Miranda is an adult. She can make her own decisions.”

“Truly,” Binter agreed.

“Oh, what good are you two!” Keritanima snapped at them. “Right when I needed you to help me win this argument, you bolt on me!”

“You’re being silly, dear,” Rallix chimed in, in his reasonable, mellow voice. “Your heart is doing the talking here, not your mind. Don’t you trust Tarrin to make sure Miranda doesn’t get into trouble?”

Keritanima, backed into a corner, glowered at her husband.

“And you are being selfish. Miranda needs some time away from us and away from what happened yesterday. I’m sure she’ll appreciate how worried you are when she comes home, but until then, the best thing we can do is give her the space she needs. We’ll just trust that Tarrin can keep her out of trouble. Well, out of big trouble, that is.”

“Alright, I’m worried, I admit it,” she said in an ugly tone. “But she shouldn’t be alone. We all find out yesterday that she’s, she’s an Avatar, and now she runs away on some stupid journey! She needs someone to be with her right now!”

“That’s the last thing she needs,” Tarrin told her.

“How would you know?” she said in an accusing tone. “Just because you’re the great and mighty Tarrin Kael, it doesn’t mean you know everything!”

“This is something I know quite a bit about, Kerri,” he said in a mild tone. “Just take my word for it. Right now, Miranda needs time alone.”

“But what if--”

“There is no what if,” Tarrin interrupted her.

“What if she doesn’t come back!?” Keritanima blurted, then immediately her face fur ruffled.

“If she doesn’t come back, it won’t be because she doesn’t love you, Kerri,” Tarrin told her seriously. “You know, Miranda watched you grow up from a spoiled little girl into an intelligent, mature woman. I think it’s about time you gave Miranda a chance to do the same. You can’t make her stay what you want her to be all her life, Kerri. Everyone has to let go, even you.”

Keritanima gave him a very long stare, then sighed and walked over to Rallix, and then sat down in his lap. Rallix put his arms around her waist, and she leaned against him. “Am I that transparent?” she admitted.

“If I didn’t know you so well, I’d say no,” Tarrin answered.

“It’s just not going to be the same without Miranda. It’s going to be…empty.”

Tarrin glanced at her, then looked to Binter and Sisska. They stared back evenly. “Should we tell her?” he asked.

“We debated it earlier, and decided against it. What right do we have to ruin it?” Binter answered. “But perhaps now it would be a blessing for her to know.”

“Know what?” Keritanima asked.

“What do you think?” Tarrin asked the Vendari. “Where should they put it?”

“Her Majesty’s study would be the best place,” Sisska answered. “It only opens to this room, and has no window. It’s the easiest to defend.”

“Know what?” she demanded. “Don’t make me give you a Royal command, Binter!”

“I am surprised she does not know,” Sisska said chidingly.

“She’s grounded in her sense of smell, and it’s hard for us to smell our own scents,” he answered her. “And it hasn’t been long enough for her to figure it out the usual ways.”

“Know WHAT?” Keritanima shouted. “Somebody had better tell me before I send Rallix out to find an axe!”

“Not me you’re not,” he said with quiet authority.

Tarrin turned and looked at her. “You won’t feel empty for very long,” he told her.

It took her a few seconds to figure that cryptic statement out, but she obviously did. Her amber eyes went wide, then she gave a squeal and hugged a startled Rallix tightly as she kicked her feet against the floor. “I’ve got to tell Mir--” she said breathlessly, then cut herself short. “Well, I’ve got to tell Allia and Jenna,” she sighed, then she laughed and hugged Rallix again.

“Mind explaining it to those of us who have no idea what that meant?” Rallix said mildly.

“Keritanima is pregnant,” Tarrin told him. “Congratulations, Rallix. You’re going to be a father.”

“She’s--Really?--Oh my dear goodness,” he said in surprise, then he laughed and hugged his wife lovingly. “How long?”

“Today,” Tarrin answered. “Last night, if we want to get technical.”

“Today?” Rallix said in surprise. “How on Sennadar can you know that?”

“Her scent changed the instant she became pregnant,” he answered. “I could smell it all over her as soon as I came in here.”

“How did you two know?” Keritanima asked the Vendari curiously.

“We have our own senses, and they are greatly attuned to you, your Majesty,” Binter answered. “We could sense it this morning when you and his Highness awoke for breakfast.”

“Can’t a girl keep a secret around here?” Keritanima said crossly, then she laughed and hugged her husband. “We’re going to have a baby!” she squealed in delight. “I wonder if it’s a boy or a girl,” she said immediately.

“It’s too early to tell yet,” Tarrin told her. “But if you do want to find out, take a look in about a month.”

“Miranda should be here for the birth,” she said adamantly.

“We’ll have to see,” Tarrin told her. “But for now, I have to get back home. I know Triana’s going to punish me for interrupting the training, even if it was necessary.”

“Well, at least I’ll get some satisfaction out of knowing that someone’s going to make you suffer,” she teased.

“It certainly won’t be you,” he stated.

She laughed and bounded up and across the room, then jumped into his arms. “I love you, Tarrin,” she announced happily. “We’ll all have to gather for the birth, just like we did with Camara.”

“I think we can arrange that,” he agreed, giving her a gentle squeeze. “But for now, I really have to go. I’ll keep Miranda out of too much trouble, I promise, but I’ll try not to interfere unless it’s absolutely necessary. Those bad experiences may help her just as much as the good ones.”

“You have gained wisdom as well as power, Tarrin,” Binter said with a nod, as Keritanima returned to Rallix‘s lap. “As it always should be. Great wisdom is the temper which holds great power in check.”

“Nobody ever accused me of wisdom, Binter,” Tarrin told him evenly, then he padded over towards the door. “You still coming to dinner at mother’s tomorrow?” he asked once he reached it.

“And pass up the chance for some of Elke Kael’s famous venison stew? Not in this century,” she replied with a light laugh. “My cooks think I’ve gone insane, but then again, they refused to try what Elke made me bring back last time. I think they’re afraid of losing their jobs.”

“Just try to show up on time this time, and it may not be cold.”

“It’s the time difference, Tarrin!” she said defensively. “What’s dinner for you is lunch for me!”

“Allia has it rougher. Dinner at your parents’ house is a very late supper for her,” Rallix noted.

“And she manages to show up on time,” Tarrin announced with a hint of accusation in his voice.

“Hmph. She’s not a queen either,” Keritanima said pompously.

“That crown of yours doesn’t reach very far into Sulasia, Kerri,” Tarrin told her as he opened the door, “and mother’s not very impressed by it. Show up late again, and she might make you stand out on the porch while the rest of us eat, queen or no queen. That’s what she always used to do to me when I didn’t make it home in time for dinner.”

“You don’t have my charm and wit.”

“We’ll see how far it gets you,” Tarrin said with a sarcastic glance. “See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow. And thank you.”

“Any time,” he said as he stepped out and closed the door behind him.

It wasn’t hard at all to get back into the rhythm of the rigorous training that Triana was giving him, but for the first few days there were plenty of distractions.

The first of which was the dinner at his mother’s house, which had become something of a monthly ritual for those who were considered part of Tarrin’s immediate family. Usually, the female Were-cats weren’t invited along, and that rankled Jesmind like nothing else that happened in the routine of their daily lives. It wasn’t that his parents didn’t like Jesmind or Kimmie or Triana, but there was only so much room at the table, and that was reserved for those who Eron and Elke felt were immediate family. That confined these monthly dinners to Tarrin and Jenna, naturally, but also Keritanima and Allia and their husbands, and Tarrin‘s children. That put as many around the table as it could hold, and as many as Elke could manage to cook for in the span of a single day. Not even Jula was invited to these dinners. Jesmind really got agitated about it, but the one time she confronted Elke over the issue, pointing out that Keritanima and Allia brought their husbands, Elke sent her skulking off like a scolded child. She made sure to grind in the fact that Jesmind wasn’t his wife, so she was only a temporary addition to the immediate family, at best. And on top of that, she had little enough time to spend with her children and grandchildren, and she didn’t need Jesmind taking away from that time any more than she already did.

That had mightily offended Jesmind, but there was little she could do about it. Any attempt to intrude upon this private time would create friction between herself and Tarrin, and Jesmind usually wouldn’t risk that in a very serious way. Despite their love for each other, there was no permanent bond that would keep them together, and she was well aware of the fact that if she ticked him off bad enough, he’d throw her out, Jasana or no Jasana. It was his house, after all. So she had to walk a very fine line between pushing and goading him, and really making him mad. And the more time passed, the more tentative that line would become, until they finally separated.

Of course, the dominating subject of the dinner was Keritanima’s pregnancy. Wikuni gave birth after twelve months, about three months longer than humans, but their children were born much stronger and more ambulatory than humans. The difference between them was purely a physical one, for Wikuni children’s minds grew and matured the same as humans did. Just more opportunity to get in trouble, as Keritanima’s nannies had always told her. They had all agreed that another reunion was definitely in order, this one taking place on Wikuna, and coinciding with what was sure to be a Royal holiday.

The other distraction was Miranda. From time to time, Tarrin would pause in his training to reach out and assense Miranda. It was easy for him to do, and those touches always told him more or less the same thing about her. She was still drifting within herself, unsure of who she was or why she was here, just wandering the city of Dayisè. She was well and taking care of herself, though, and that was what mattered to him. Her moral dilemma had not turned into depression, and that was a healthy sign.

Triana indulged him in that one lapse of daily exercise and practice, but that was all. Tarrin continued his demanding training regimen, splitting his days between grueling, backbreaking labor and mental exercises and practice with Druidic magic and the theory of the layered spell.

It was easy to lose track of time that way, as days blurred together and all seemed the same. That winter was unnaturally cold and almost mercilessly snowy. Aldreth got its share of snow, but that winter was almost ridiculous in the accumulation that piled up over the months. At one point, just a few days before the day of the new year, it was so deep that the snow stood taller on the edge of Tarrin’s magical meadow than Jasana. It was up to Jula’s waist. It got so bad that Mist was forced to return to the house for a brief amount of time with Eron, but she only stayed about two rides, and she wouldn’t stay in the same room with Jesmind at all.

It was just after the start of the new year that Triana seemed satisfied with Tarrin’s progress, and finally started preparing him for his very first attempt at a layered spell. Her preparations lasted almost five days, as she meticulously taught him the spell he was going to use, a simple spell that changed mud into hard stone. There was a similar spell in Sorcery for doing that, and Tarrin was curious to see which one would be easier to cast.

On a blustery, overcast day, Triana had Tarrin out behind the house with a wooden pail full of mud and a very tight expression on her face. He knew that this first attempt would be the most dangerous, and he could almost smell her power as she seemed to wrap herself up in it, preparing to intervene in case Tarrin lost control of the magic. There was little she could do about it, but there were a few very powerful, very dangerous spells that would let her try to shape the reaction of the All to Tarrin’s spell in case it got out of his control.

“Remember, cub, quick and clear and precise. Wait for the snap, then move to the second image and intent.”

“I’ll do fine, mother,” he assured her, looking down at the pail.

And he did. Tarrin made his connection to the All as he felt Triana’s tension, then set his image and intent firmly in his mind, the image of the mud in the pail turning into dark brown stone, and the intent that it come to pass. He felt that familiar sensation of the snap, and then immediately shifted to the second image and intent of the spell, an image of the rock and the intent that the mud change into stone, not the more expedient course of drawing out the water and compressing the remaining earth until it became stone.

The All seemed to shudder, as if it was shifted from its original course, and then it smoothly picked up on this new image and intent. It still had the memory of the first pair within it, so it merged that with this new image and intent and then acted upon the combined information. The All surged through him and into the mud, and it shimmered visibly as it transformed into the very hard, dark brown stone that Tarrin had envisioned.

He looked over to Triana with a calm expression, but she looked about ready to dance around the back yard in glee. She took a look at him and cleared her throat, then got her exuberance under control. “Very good, cub,” she complemented in a dignified manner.

“You old fraud,” he teased, which made her laugh, then rush over and hug him fondly.

That was the first and most difficult step, and he knew it. She had him practice that spell over and over and over, as she changed the rock back into mud and had him do it again and again, until he was too tired to continue. After she felt that he was thoroughly competent in the use of a layered spell, she began to teach him the easiest of them, beginning his education in earnest. She taught him as the snow just kept coming, day after day, piling up to unimaginable heights before warm spells melted the top layers off and turned the bottom layers into rock-hard ice, then it was covered over in snow once more.

Of course, drastic piles of snow turned into a massive inundation of water when it all melted. The river cities of Sulasia all suffered terrible floods that spring, though Torrian, being so far upstream, didn’t suffer as badly as most. That was the second of the distractions, as Tarrin was forced by Jenna to help her and the rest of the Tower to clean up Jerinhold and Ultern, which had been hit very hard by the massive spring flooding.

They got off easy. Cities in Shacè, Tor, and Arkis were devastated by the floods, for a winter of snow in Sulasia had been a winter of endless rain in the much warmer regions of their southern neighbors. When those floodwaters came, the saturated ground could not absorb any of it; in fact, it just piled onto the water that was already there.

By late spring, the worst of the flooding had subsided, but Tarrin really didn’t pay much attention, for Triana’s training was getting more and more demanding. He had proven that he was more than capable of performing this more difficult aspect of Druidic magic, and she continued to teach him many different kinds of spells. It seemed that every day, he was learning at least two new spells, complete with exhaustive, repeated practice to ensure Triana that he had learned them properly.

By the first truly hot day of spring, Tarrin had graduated from two step layered spells to four step spells, spells that were beginning to show the true depth and hidden potential of Druidic magic. These were spells whose companion spells in Sorcery were occasionally very powerful and very difficult to cast, at the limits of standard Sorcery, but the Druidic versions of them were not as taxing as Sorcery. There were differences, as there ultimately would be, but the four step spells were what Tarrin considered the true threshold before stepping into the Druidic magic that was at a level with Weavespinner magic.

And among them was the spell that he had been most interested in learning, that clever, clever spell that Triana had used to move through the stone of the passages under the Tower and get behind him when he was raging. That was the last four step spell she taught, because she knew that it was the one he most wanted to learn, and she didn’t want him to lose interest after learning it.

As luck would have it, Triana had begun teaching him that spell on the day that Sapphire had finally decided to come visit. She had been absent all winter, and though Tarrin had been very busy, he had noticed this sudden absence. She usually came to visit about once a ride. She simply stepped out of the house as Triana taught him in the back yard, showing him the spell by sliding her arm through the chair she used to sit upon.

“Ah, I see you’ve begun his training,” Sapphire said without so much as a word of greeting, as if an entire season was nothing more than a day of separation.

“Sapphire!” Tarrin said in surprise. “Where have you been?”

“Caring for a clutch,” she answered.

Tarrin gave her a slightly confused look.

“I had children,” she explained. “Two hatchlings. They’re old enough for me to leave them in the care of their brothers and sisters now, so I’m free to move around again.”

“Oh. Congratulations,” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was something of a surprise,” she admitted. “I didn’t realize I’d been impregnated until a few days before laying the eggs, because there were only two of them. Usually, a female blue lays seven or eight. And trust me, I can feel it when I have seven or eight eggs developing inside me. I’d been so busy, I didn’t feel it until they were almost ready to be laid.”

Tarrin wasn’t quite sure how she wouldn’t know she’d been impregnated, but he wasn’t about to venture into that particular topic of discussion.

“How far are you along?” Sapphire asked Triana.

“Four,” she answered. Sapphire nodded, which meant that she obviously understood what that meant.

“How has he done?”

“Surprisingly well,” she replied. “He’s got a fast mind. That always helps.”

“He’s almost ready to learn what I have to teach him,” she announced. “When you have him up to six, let me know. I’m confident that any spell I know under six is something you also know. It’s after we get him to six that we’ll start finding spells the other doesn’t know.”

Tarrin was a bit startled at that. Learn what Sapphire had to teach him? She’d always talked about trading information with Triana, not really taking a hand in his education--no, wait, now that he recalled, she did once mention in passing, quite absently, that she was of a mind to give him some Druidic training. But he hadn’t thought that she meant it.

Obviously, anything Sapphire said, Sapphire meant, no matter how casually it was spoken.

It took him five days to learn that spell, the one spell he had been more interested to learn than any other, but the results pleased him to no end. There were a few very, very painful errors, because half the trick of the spell was ending it. He had to make very sure not to leave any part of himself inside something else when ending it, which happened four separate times as Triana let him practice the practical use of the spell. The pain was absolutely unimaginable; it was like every tiny mote of what was inside the other object was set on fire, and the part of his body that was affected was literally fused with the object. Once it happened, there was no way to unfuse it, meaning he had to cut off the limb that got stuck. The other surprising limitation of the spell was the fact that Tarrin couldn’t breathe when he was using the spell. So the spell had two effective durations; the amount of time he could sustain it, and the amount of time he could hold his breath.

That was the last four layer spell that Triana had to teach him, and intended to start him on the five layer spells…at least after a few days of rest. The Hierarchs had summoned her over some bit of news that was important enough to interrupt the training, giving Tarrin a few precious days to rest and recover his strength. The magical training was only half of the training, after all, and the instruction in magic was the part he looked forward to while he performed grueling exercises. The weight he had to carry was now a massive boulder almost as large as an outhouse, but he had to admit that the training was effective. He was strong enough to knock a small cottage off its foundation now. The strength even transferred, at least partially, to his human form. In human form, he was nearly as strong as Azakar.

He was excited about the idea of a few days to himself, but he was so tired that he spent the entire first day sleeping, resting, and generally taking it easy. He spent half the time awake down in his study, reacquainting himself with Duthak, and helping Jula with her pronunciation. Unable to stand not knowing something that Tarrin knew, she had taken his notes and his book and had started teaching herself the language. She was about three quarters of the way through his book, and was competent in the language, only needing practice to become fluent.

While he was working with her, Tara and Rina wandered down the stairs. Tarrin picked them up and put them in his lap as he worked with Jula and read over some of the ancient writing he’d managed to collect.

“Wha’s this, Papa?” Rina asked, pointing at the book.

“It’s writing, cub,” he answered her, tapping the book with his claw. “Writing is words you see instead of hear.”

“I know what writing is, and this ain’t the writing in Mama‘s books,” Tara said critically.

“It’s another language,” he told her.

“Like To’ian?” Rina asked, looking up at him. They were about two years old now, and spoke with as much grammatical advancement as any six year old child, but Rina seemed to have this problem with pronunciation. Tarrin figured it was Kimmie’s fault, trying to teach her cubs two languages at once. Tara didn’t seem to have the same problem, but then again, Tara was militantly resistant to most of her mother’s teaching. Tara had to be any mother’s worst nightmare.

“It’s not Torian, but you have the right idea,” he corrected, bouncing her a bit on his knee. “This is Duthak. It’s the language that the Dwarves used.”

“Oooh, Dwarves!” Tara said with sudden excitement. Tarrin had told them stories about the Dwarves, and Tara rather fancied them. “Aren’t they all dead?”

“Yes, they are,” Jula answered her.

“Then why learn how they talked?”

“Why not?” Jula countered.

That seemed to take Tara off guard. She floundered for a moment, then snorted. “Because who can you use it to talk to?” she finally argued.

“I can use it to talk to our father,” she answered with a wink. “He and I are the only people around that know the language. And nobody else knows what we’re saying.”

“Like they ever do anyway,” Tarrin said absently as he turned the page.

“Ooh, a secret,” Rina said in delight. “I wanna learn too!”

Tarrin gave Jula a frosty look. As if he didn’t have enough to do, now she’d gotten Rina interested in Duthak.

“I’ll be glad to teach you, sis,” Jula said plainly, as much to Tarrin as she did to Rina, glancing up at him as she spoke. “It’ll give me a good way to practice.”

“Yay! Wha’s first?”

Jula chuckled. “Slow down, cub,” she warned. “We’ll start tomorrow, alright?”

“A’right,” Rina nodded.

Tarrin decided that the best way to introduce Rina to the Dwarves was to show her where they once lived, so the next day, Tarrin decided to take a little holiday. He wanted his parents to come, who told Jenna, who told Keritanima, who leaked it to Dolanna, who somehow managed to get word of the news to Sapphire. So, the next frosty morning, Tarrin ended up Teleporting a surprisingly large group of people to Mala Myrr, where Allia and Allyn were waiting for them. He intended to take the children so they could see the ancient Dwarven city, and Tarrin and Jula could hunt for new artifacts.

Tarrin didn’t mind the large group, which was almost a reunion of sorts. He hadn’t seen Dolanna in quite a while, and these were all his dear friends and beloved family members. What bothered him was that damned Phoenix.

It was back. He was absolutely positive that it was the same one, as well. He had noticed it sitting on top of one of the larger buildings as he showed the others around the city, a building with a granite dome atop it. It was perched at the very top, wings folded, looking down at him with those glowing red eyes. It raised and fanned out its tail feathers when he looked up at it, and it was enough to make Tarrin stop dead and stare at the animal in surprise.

“It’s a Phoenix,” Dolanna said in Sharadi.

“It’s the same Phoenix from Amazar,” Allia said concisely in Selani. “I remember its tail markings.”

“How did it get all the way up here?” Keritanima asked in surprise.

“I’d guess that it flew,” Jula said dryly.

Keritanima gave her a withering look.

“Well, it’s true,” she said defensively, but she had a slight smile gracing her pretty face.

“Don’t get cute with me, girl,” Keritanima snapped.

“Look!” Rina cried, pointing. “It’s comin’ down!”

And it was. The Phoenix was circling down on its flame-colored wings, then landed lightly not ten spans away from the group. It raised its tail feathers and fanned them out once again, then folded and lowered them and started ambling forward at a slow, steady pace. Tarrin wasn’t quite sure what to make of this sudden, unusual behavior, but something told him that the animal was not acting in a hostile manner. It stepped right up to Tara and Rina and rose to its full height, which put its eyes right at a level with the twins. That close to it, Tarrin caught its scent, which was like brimstone and smoke, and saw that it was quite a handsome animal. It had that feather crest on the top of its head that gave it a windswept appearance, and its plumage was resplendent in the strong spring sun of the desert, almost shimmering in the light like, molten gold and fiery lava.

It gave a surprisingly gentle chirping sound, then took a step forward and nudged at Tara’s shoulder with its beak. The usually dour cub giggled and put her paw over where the beak touched her. “It’s all warm,” she announced.

Jula moved to reach out to it, but the bird hissed threateningly at her, even as it sidestepped slightly and nuzzled at Rina’s neck, which made the little cub erupt in a squeal of surprised giggling.

“I don’t think it likes the rest of us,” Jula said as she wisely withdrew her paw.

“I have never heard of a Phoenix behaving so,” Dolanna said seriously. “They are usually very shy animals around humanoid races.”

“Don’t worry at it,” Triana said dismissively. “The bird won’t hurt the girls, and it doesn’t look like it’s interested in the rest of us.”

“Ca’ we keep it, Papa?” Rina asked immediately.

Tarrin balked at that. “No,” he said adamantly.

“Why not?” she demanded.

“Because it’s not our decision,” Triana told her bluntly.

“Grandmother’s right,” Jasana said pompously. “It’s a sentient magical animal. We can’t make it do anything it doesn’t want to do.”

Triana gave Jasana a hard look, which made the girl get very meek very quickly. “What’s her problem?” the Were-cat matriarch asked Jesmind.

“She’s going through her mature phase,” she answered levelly.

“Oh. It’s about that time for it, isn’t it?”

“Mature phase?” Allia asked.

“When Were-cat cubs decide they’re more mature than they really are,” Jesmind replied. “We all go through it. It has to do with how fast we grow up.”

“Humans call it teen rebellion,” Dolanna said with a light chuckle.

“No, this is the pre-teen rebellion,” Jesmind answered. “The teen rebellion will hit when she’s around seven. I’ll probably throw her out of the house between then and when she’s ten, whenever I feel she’s mature enough to not get killed and knows enough to make it on her own.”

“Ah,” Dolanna smiled, but wisely said no more.

The Phoenix seemed interested in Tara and Rina, but its curiosity was not ongoing. After a few moments of nuzzling and inspection, the Phoenix simply hopped back and took to wing, then flew up over the buildings and out of sight. The twins were very unhappy that the Phoenix didn’t seem to want to go home with them, but their displeasure was eaily deflected by the wonders and the mysteries of the ancient ruins, many sections of which were still very well preserved, especially around the center of the huge, abandoned city.

All in all, it was a very good day. Tarrin and Allia showed everyone around the ruins, pointing out some of the more interesting areas they had found during their individual forays into the city, and then they amused the cubs by going on a hunt for Dwarven artifacts in the buildings near the center of the city, near the arena where Faalken’s white marble tomb rested, but Tarrin didn’t particularly feel like going to visit it. Even after all this time, Faalken’s death still had a powerful effect on the Were-cat, and he felt reluctant to dwell on it for very long.

“A pity I wasn’t alive when the Dwarves were here,” Sapphire mused as he walked with her along a wide avenue, now choked with sand, only a few blocks from the sand-covered street where he had found the priceless axe of the Dwarven king last year. “The ruins of this city speak of a highly advanced and technologically superior race.”

Tarrin nodded. “From what I’ve read, they were builders without equal, and they made objects of metal with a skill that even modern smiths can’t match,” he told her. “Can you read Duthak?”

She shook her head. “I’ve yet to meet anyone who knew the language,” she answered. “Aside from you, that is.”

“I could teach you, if you’d like.”

“When I have the time, I’ll lift it from you,” she told him. “But there’s no hurry.”

He forgot about that. “It seems like cheating to do it that way.” He chuckled. “I wouldn’t do that for Jula. I forced her to learn it the hard way.”

“Jula speaks Duthak?” she asked in surprise.

“More or less,” he answered. “She’s got the grammar and vocabulary down, but she needs more practice to be fluent.” They paused to allow an umuni amble past, as reptile, dragon, and Were-cat respected each other’s personal space. “How is Eron doing?” she asked as they watched the poisonous creature sidle off casually.

“If he were here, he’d be chasing that thing,” Tarrin chuckled.

“Truly,” she agreed. “Whatever happened to that animal of his?”

“The desert fox? He still has it,” he answered. “He spoils her rotten. Mist says that it’s been acting strange lately. She thinks it’s in heat.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I’m not sure,” he answered. “She may be a different species of fox, but she is a fox. The red and gray foxes in the forest might be able to impregnate her.”

“Triana might know.”

If she doesn’t, she could probably find out,” he agreed, then he chuckled. “I miss having you around, Sapphire.”

“I can visit more often.”

“No, as a drake,” he told her.

“You liked me as a pet better than you do now?” she asked archly, then she laughed. “I am only teasing,” she told him before he tried to answer her. That was good, for Tarrin was certain that there was no correct answer to that question.

“I guess I miss having a drake around,” he admitted.

“My poor little friend,” she said, patting him on the arm. “How would you like one of my new clutch?” she offered. “They’re quite rambunctious, and I wouldn’t mind someone taking them off my talons for a while, before I step on them in aggravation.”

Tarrin laughed. “I don’t think I’m suited for raising baby dragons, my friend,” he warned her. “They’d probably grow up extremely confused.”

“Ah, well,” she said with a sly smile.

By sunset, they had quite a few artifacts to take home. Jasana, Tara, and Rina had managed to find children’s toys, weapons, armor, stone tablets with Duthak engraved upon them, a metal shield with Duthak inscribed on the inside edges of the shield, and several of those thought-provoking stone sculptures that had so captivated Tarrin the first time he had come to Mala Myrr. They said goodbye to each other there in the city and each Teleported or returned home in their own way.

Tarrin was rather eager to study these new objects, since he knew that he had a couple of free days, but he’d had a very full and busy day, so he was more than willing to put that off until tomorrow.

The next day proved to be quite memorable, for it began to the sounds of what sounded like high-pitched growling, coming from the common room. It was enough to wake Tarrin and Jesmind up.

“Is Tara torturing a squirrel?” Jesmind asked blearily as she sat up in the bed, scratching at her wild hair.

“I have no idea,” Tarrin answered, climbing out of bed without bothering to put on any clothes. He opened the door and padded up the very short passage into the common room, then stopped dead at the passage’s entryway.

Sitting on the back of the couch facing the fireplace, its scales shimmering in the sunlight streaming through the windows to each side of the chimney, was a drake. It wasn’t any ordinary drake either, for its scales were a breathtaking gold, polished like a jeweler’s finest work proudly displayed behind his counter. Its serpentine eyes locked on him, amber and unwavering, and it then yawned languidly and laid down on the back of the couch, folding its golden wings in to its sides. Its head was squarish, a little blockier than a red or blue drake, and with a stronger jaw, but it possessed the same backswept horns and little ridges and protrusions running down its spine, between its wings and all the down to the base of its tail. This one was much smaller than Sapphire had been, but it had a look about it that hinted to Tarrin that this drake was very young.

A gold drake! They were the rarest of all drakes, well known to be exceptionally intelligent and possessed of formidable magical powers! What was more, they were also well known to be incredibly picky animals, who would only allow a very, very select and rare few the privilege of even getting close to them.

“A drake?” Jesmind asked, looking around him from behind. “Where did that come from?”

“Me and Sapphire were talking yesterday, and I told her I missed having a drake,” he answered. “I think she put it here.”

“It’s not blue.”

“It’s a gold drake,” Tarrin said with surprise evident in his voice. “They’re very, very rare.”

The drake sat up again and stretched out its wings, then launched itself into the air and lanced over to him with surprising speed. Tarrin managed to get his paws out to catch the animal as it all but flew right into his chest, but once he had a firm and gentle grip on it, it simply yawned again and laid its head against his shoulder. Seeing it that close, smelling it, it was obvious to him now that this was a very, very young drake, barely an adult. It wasn’t even fully grown yet. Its scent was like gold, just like the color of its scales, and those scales were cool and smooth, almost feeling like gold themselves.

Tarrin picked his brain to remember what he’d learned about drakes. Each drake had a chance to have magical powers similar to the dragon of the same color--except gold drakes, who always had the powers of the dragon with which they were cousins. That meant that this one, a gold drake, would have the breath weapon of a gold dragon…which were actually two separate and distinct breath weapons. Gold dragons could breathe fire, or breathe a gas that had a paralytic effects when they didn’t want to kill. That gas happened to be exceptionally flammable, almost explosive in nature, which meant that it was probably a base component of the fiery breath weapon when they used it. Gold dragons also were reputed to be the most intelligent of all dragons--a fact he very much doubted, given how vastly intelligent Sapphire was--and were, as a group, reputed to be as kind and gentle as they were wise. But that was a misnomer, Tarrin knew, for since they were sentient beings, each dragon was unique and had its own unique outlook on life. There was no way to group sentient beings like that and list them as “good” or “evil,” because each was an individual who just happened to be a part of a group by virtue of race.

“Well, it seems to like you,” Jesmind ventured.

Tarrin had to agree. The little drake was nuzzling his shoulder with its head, and he couldn’t help but stroke its scales delicately, then scratch it right between the horns in a way that made it close its eyes and surrender to that heavenly claw. “It’s a juvenile,” he told her. “Not an adult yet. I hope Sapphire didn’t kill its parents,” he said with sudden concern.”

“Silly boy,” her voice emanated from thin air. “I did nothing of the sort. This drake was orphaned, and has been in the care of a Druid in Wikuna, which is where most gold drakes live. I asked that he give the drake to me, so I could see if he would accept you. I see that he does, so consider him yours.”

“That was very kind of you, my friend,” he answered aloud. “Does he have a name?”

“The druid named him Fireflash,” she answered. “Because his breath weapon had only just begun to emerge when he came under the Druid‘s care, so he had a tendency to belch forth bursts of fire. But he’s older now, and has full control of both his breath weapons, so don’t worry about any accidents. My gift to you, little friend, in appreciation of all you have given me over the years.”

Tarrin was speechless, unable to do much of anything but look down at the little drake with wide-eyed wonder, and almost feel like a child again. “I can’t thank you enough, Sapphire,” he finally replied.

“Your happiness is all the thanks I need, little friend. I must go now. Be well.”

“Goodbye,” he called, but there was no answer. Jesmind came around and looked at the drake, which looked up at her through hooded eyes, then closed them when she stroked his scales tentatively.

“It’s kinda cute,” she announced.

“He’s beautiful,” Tarrin said, nearly whispering, holding his new drake gently.

“What a thoughtful gift,” Jesmind reasoned as she stroked Fireflash’s lustrous scales.

What a wonderful gift, was all Tarrin could think as he held the small drake in his arms and felt its heart beating through the fur on his arm.

There probably could not have been anything better than anyone could have given him.

What a wonderful gift indeed.