Chapter 4

The next day wasn’t arduous as much as it was simply long.

They awoke before dawn to get moving, and encountered their first little obstacle. Zyri’s restored dress, though pretty, wasn’t made for riding. Rather than having a neophyte to riding attempt to ride sidesaddle in a saddle not designed for it, Dolanna allowed the girl to borrow one of her dresses until Miranda could alter the one she had. Zyri and Dolanna weren’t too far from the same size in height, but Dolanna was certainly more developed through the bust and hips than the dark-haired girl, so Dolanna’s dress hung off from her a little bit.

The second obstacle was Telven. It wasn’t long before the boisterous boy was again complaining very loudly and incessantly about the discomfort of riding, and he was getting on everyone’s nerves. Sarraya turned out to be the one who literally saved the boy’s life, for she started bantering with the boy, flitting around his head, distracting him from his saddlesores, which caused the complaining to ease considerably. Telven had no idea how close he had been to death; Mist, riding with Tarrin in her cat form, was about to go back there and shut him up, no matter what it might take to do so.

The third obstacle presented itself just after an early lunch, in the form of another group of bandits. They came riding around a hill just as they were mounted and preparing to move on, either an ill-timed surprise attack or one done out of haste at just finding quarry. There were twelve of them, all of them riding horses and wearing mismatched and badly maintained armor and wielding battered weapons. This time, Tarrin was not alone, and this time, there was no quarter being given for the sake of the children.

It was an absolute slaughter, at least for the bandits. Though only four of the riders moved out to confront these twelve attackers—after Tarrin quickly passed Mist off to Miranda so she could remain behind and help protect the children and Dolanna—they were more than enough to handle twice that number. Tarrin, Ulger, Azakar, and Haley didn’t look as dangerous as they were—well, Tarrin and Haley anyway—but the bandits quickly learned the folly of their hasty assault. They faltered when they got close enough to realize that Azakar was really that big, that it wasn’t a trick of the distance on the eye, but the lead attackers didn’t have a chance to turn around and run. That falter became a sudden realization that they got in over their head when Tarrin sent two arrows into their number, taking out the two men in the lead, nocking and firing faster than any of them had ever seen a man use a bow, before stuffing the bow back into its saddle sheath and having a sword literally appear in his hands. By the time the ten survivors reached the four who had moved to intercept them, it was too late to retreat. Azakar chopped them out of their saddles with his massive sword, which would be a two-handed weapon for anyone but him, flicking the heavy blade almost negligently as he dispatched the first two to reach them. The other three unfurled behind the monstrous armored behemoth before them like a spider trapping its prey, and the bandits were quickly thrown into chaos. Ulger was one of the best fighters that the Knights had, and he showed it by taking down two bandits with almost scathing disregard, not even bothering to fence or feint. His broadsword wasn’t as large as Azakar’s, but he swung it with the same blinding speed, literally cutting men down with single swipes that came so fast that they had no chance to parry or evade them. Tarrin didn’t like fighting from horseback, mainly because he was much more mobile on his feet and all his training had been geared towards fighting on foot, but he knew the fundamentals of mounted combat from training sessions with his father. His staff wasn’t an effective weapon on horseback, so he opted instead for his sword, wielding the huge sword with only one hand and using the Cat’s Claw bracer on his left wrist as a shield. The bandits could tell that Tarrin seemed tentative to battle, but it was an unfamiliarity with mounted combat, and not their mistaken belief that it was because he wasn’t a very good fighter. After fencing a little bit with the first bandit to reach him, he quickly became accustomed to guiding his horse with his legs, and then he took down the bandit opposing him with ease, smacking his sword aside with the Adamantite bracer on his wrist, then skewering him with his sword with his reply. Fireflash made sure to contribute as well, flying over the heads of the bandits and unleashing small blasts of fire at them to harry them and put them into a near-panic, making it very easy for the others to finish them.

But the most surprising combatant was Haley. Wielding his rapier and a basket-hilted dagger called a main-gauche in his left hand, the Were-wolf showed that he had learned well from the Shacèans. Even from horseback, Haley was a pure fencer, toying with his opponents for a moment before sending his slender blade expertly right into their hearts or throats, confusing them with dazzling swordplay, weaving his rapier before them in a mesmerizing dance that defeated any attempt their weapons made to touch him before sending its point into a vital point on their bodies. Haley didn’t seem to want to initiate any attack, content to let his attacker make the first move, then kill with a riposte.

It was over before the bandits knew what happened, before any of them could even consider a retreat. In a shockingly short amount of time, all of them had been killed, and twelve startled and confused horses now roamed the grassy dale in which the battle had taken place.

“Nice,” Ulger said professionally, cleaning his sword with a rag before sliding it home in its scabbard. “These bandits don’t look to have ever really used their swords.”
“I don’t know, that one right there seemed to have some training,” Haley countered, pointing at one of the dead men. “He actually managed to parry me once.”

“Probably just luck,” Azakar said grimly. “What shall we do with them?”

“This isn’t populated territory, so we don’t have to bury them,” Ulger answered him. “I say we round up their horses, unsaddle them, then set them free. We can’t let them go carrying all that stuff around.”

“Let’s make sure Dolanna agrees with you,” Haley answered.

“Aye.”
Dolanna did in fact agree with Ulger, at least up to a point. “Select the best two horses from them and add them to our train,” she instructed. “I think we might find it wise to bring in some extra horses now, in case Kimmie and Phandebrass have lost theirs. And if not, at least we will have two additional horses to work with in case of any problems later on.”

“We can do that, Dolanna,” Ulger nodded. “Alright, Haley, I think you and me are the best judges of horses. Let’s go pick a pair of winners.”

“After you, Ulger,” Haley said with a motioning of his hand towards the milling animals.

“Wow, can you teach me how to fight like that?” Telven asked Azakar breathlessly.

Azakar removed his helmet and regarded the boy with a sober eye. “Do you want to learn because you want to protect others, or do you just want to learn just so you can kill people?”

Azakar’s poignant question seemed to strike at Telven, for the boy felt silent, and his eyes became suddenly troubled.

“Think about that,” Azakar told him. “If you want to learn how to protect someone, then ask me again tomorrow. But I won’t teach you how to fight just so you can kill people. That’s wrong in the eyes of Karas, and he would be disappointed in me if I did.”

Tarrin was rather surprised. That was the first time Tarrin had ever heard Azakar mention the name of Karas in such a, a holy manner. Tarrin hadn’t been sure if Azakar worshipped Karas, for it wasn’t really a requirement to be a Knight. Obey Karas, yes, but it wasn’t necessary to worship him.

After a long lunch, during which Miranda altered Zyri’s dress so she could ride in it, they continued along. While Telven complained, Zyri asked them what they were doing. After she did so, Dolanna glanced at Tarrin, who nodded. If the girl was going to travel with them for any amount of time, her understanding the truth would be important for her.

“Well, child, we have come seeking two of our friends,” she answered. “That is what we are doing now. But we also have come to find out what happened to some long-lost members of our order, the katzh-dashi. But, given what you have told us, it is highly doubtful that any of them are left alive. Now we will simply find out what happened to them, seek out any who might still be living, and then take them home if we find any.”

“But the Crusade was two thousand years ago,” she said haltingly.

“We do not age the way you do, child,” she told her. “There may very well still be some of them alive after two thousand years, but I am not sure. These Hunters seem to be very thorough.”

“Yes, but they’re geared towards catching witches,” Sarraya added. “Sorcerers aren’t the same. Trees, you can’t even use your magic here!”

“Where is your home?” Zyri asked.

“We do not come from your world, child,” Dolanna said bluntly. “We come from another.”

“How can there be anything other than the world?” Zyri asked.

“Every world is like a ball,” Tarrin told her, bringing out his wings and creating a little ball of fire in his palm, which floated over it. “Think of this as your world right here, little bit. Everything is inside of it. The planet, the moon, the sun, the stars, everything. Outside of this ball, there are other balls,” he said, creating another and having it circle around the first slowly. “This is how the planes work, Zyri. Every world is endless, eternal, but it’s also an enclosed universe to itself. But there are other universes, just as boundless and eternal, that exist in other places. There are gateways between these different dimensions that allows someone to travel from one to another. That’s how the original katzh-dashi came here, using a gate to come from our world to this world. We came here using the same gate.” He saw her confused look, then made the balls vanish and retracted his wings. “Think of your world like a house. It’s your own personal space, kind of like your own little world. But you can leave your world simply by opening the door, where you find other houses outside. Every world is a house, and every world has a door that lets you enter and leave the house. We came in through the door to this world, to this house.

“And, and it’s not the same on your side of that door?” she asked.

“As different as night and day, dear child,” Dolanna told her. “The One does not exist in our world. Just as every house has different furniture and different decorations, every world is different from one another. Each world has its own peoples, its own gods, and so on. There are some similarities between worlds, though. There are humans in your world, and humans in mine, and your world looks remarkably similar to ours. The plants, the trees, the animals, they all look familiar to us, because we have them in our world as well. In fact, this grassy plain looks almost indistinguishable from the northern plain of Sharadar,” she told her, looking around. “I could almost feel like this was my home, that the forest over there is the Haunted Wood, and that the Inner sea is just over the horizon to the north. But this is not. This is the grass plain north of Dengal and between the forest and the low mountains to the east.”

“But the Priests say that there’s only the world, heaven, and hell,” Telven said. “If you’re not from here, then you’re either from heaven or hell. And since you’re witches, you must be from hell,” he concluded quite logically.

“Demons come from what you call hell, Telven,” Tarrin told him. “Do I look like a Demon to you?”

“You do when you’re the other way,” he answered boldly.

Sarraya laughed. “He’s got you there, Tarrin. You do look a little Demonic when you’re in your normal form and you have your wings out.”

“Well, I can prove that to you, Telven,” he said calmly. “Remember when I killed the Demons at the church?”

“Yeah.”

“What color was their blood?”

“It was black and icky smelling.”

Tarrin drew his belt dagger and slid it across his palm to create a thin line of blood, then showed it to Telven. “And what color is my blood?” he asked.

“Red.”

“Then I’m not a Demon,” he said in a measured tone. “And since I’m not a Demon, how can I be from hell, since only Demons live in hell?”

Telven wasn’t prepared for that. He floundered a bit, looking to try to start talking, then he just shrugged. “They say witches come from hell,” he stated.

“You don’t listen to your Priests,” Tarrin told him. “They say they get their power from hell, which is itself a stupid and completely wrong conclusion. They say that’s how they become Defiled, and lose their purity. So that means that they’re not from hell. Now, I’m obviously not a Demon, we’ve established that I don’t come from hell, I do come from another world, and I’m obviously not from your One’s heaven. So then, exactly where did I come from?”

Telven struggled with that bit of logic for several long moments, then sighed and shrugged again. “I dunno.”

“Well, he admits he doesn’t know everything,” Tarrin said cooly. “That’s a first.”

Zyri laughed, and Jal, who was riding on a horse being led by Zyri, gave a shy smile of his own.

“Some things, you just have to accept when you don’t understand them, Telven. Trust me on this one, it’s something I have a lot of experience with.”

“What’s it like in your world?” Zyri asked.

“Well, it looks a lot like yours,” he answered. “But it’s not just humans. There are more humans than any other race, that’s for certain, but there’s more than just them. We have the Wikuni who live across the sea,” he said, pointing at Miranda, who was again hiding behind an Illusion of Mist. “There are the Sha’Kar, who serve in the Towers and do the will of my Goddess. There are the Selani who live in the desert, and the Were-kin and other forest folk who are called the Woodkin, who live in the vast forest west of the desert. There are orcs in our world too, but we call them Waern, and we have a bunch of other races related to orcs that we call Goblinoids as a whole. There are the Aeradalla who share the desert with the Selani, and there’s the Vendari, who are a race of lizard-men even bigger than me, Mist, and Zak.”

“They sound scary,” Zyri said.

“The Vendari can be scary-looking, but once you get to know them, you’d be surprised how nice they can be,” he answered.

“And you don’t fight with each other?” Zyri asked.

“Gods no,” Dolanna laughed. “The Sha’Kar are our brothers and sisters, as close to us as close can be. The Vendari and the Wikuni are some of our best friends, and we have very good relations with the Aeradalla and the Selani. The Woodkin tend to keep to themselves, because most humans do not really understand them, but they too are friendly with the humans. The only non-human race that really causes us any trouble are the Goblinoids, because they would rather steal what they need than make it themselves.”

“But there’s fights, or you wouldn’t have Knights.”

“Yes, there are occasionally fights,” Dolanna admitted. “But it tends to be humans against humans more than anything else. When we have fights on our world, it is most often one kingdom fighting another, or very rarely the worshippers of one god having fights with the worshippers of another, though that happens only once in a very great while.”

“It sounds nice.”

“It is, but I think this world would be nice if it wasn’t for the One,” Tarrin told her. “This world would be much better off if he’d just drop dead.”

“That’s blasphemy!” Telven gasped.

“It’s only blasphemy if I cared about what the One felt about it,” Tarrin answered flatly. “If he wants to take issue with the fact that I think he’s a plague on this world, he can come over here and try to tell me so. I’d enjoy that particular opportunity,” he finished, flexing his fingers in an ominous manner.

“You’re not afraid?” Zyri asked in disbelief.

“Little bit, I’m not afraid of any god,” he told her flatly. “Not even the One.”

Zyri gaped at him

“Ah, it seems that we’ve found Kimmie’s tailers,” Haley spoke up lightly, pointing ahead.

The conversation forgotten, Tarrin and the others looked ahead. There were several bodies littering the grass, and a change in the wind brought the smell of decomposing flesh to them.

“Ewww!” Telven squealed, putting his hands over his nose and mouth. “That smells awful!”

“I do not think we need to get too close to them,” Dolanna suggested.

“I’ll go look,” Haley offered. “I’d like to know if they were from the Church.”

“Be my guest,” Miranda said, just before she sneezed.

They circled wide of the carnage as Haley inspected the corpses. There were seven bodies there, but they didn’t get close enough for Tarrin to see if they were wearing Church uniforms, because their clothing was badly mangled from both whatever killed them and also stained from the process of decomposition. Haley moved his skittish horse through the scene, then trotted him over to the group with a slight smile on his face.

“Church soldiers,” he affirmed. “Judging from the condition of the bodies, it was certainly Kimmie and Phandebrass who killed them. They were killed by magic and by something with very large claws.”

“That would definitely be Kimmie,” Miranda agreed.

“How could you tell?” Telven asked. “They’re all icky looking.”

“It’s not all that hard, young man,” Azakar told him. “It just takes a willingness to look at something unpleasant to find the clues left behind.” He turned to look at Dolanna. “We should start thinking about finding a site for camp, Dolanna.”

“Well away from this place, that is for certain,” Dolanna told him. “Let us move up a couple of longspans and then start looking for a good place.”

They found an excellent campsite about an hour before sunset, a flat, dry patch of grass beside a very strange river that flowed from the north, then turned to the east. The river wasn’t very large, but it was surprisingly deep, and it held water that was so clear that the bottom of the river, some twelve spans down in the middle, was as visible as the grass at the riverbank. There were large plants growing on the riverbed, undulating in a slow yet steady current that led off to the east.

“Now that is bizarre,” Ulger said, kneeling at the bank of the river and looking into it after they had finished setting up camp.

“Spring water,” Mist told him. She had shifted into her normal form and joined him at the riverbank for a moment to get a drink. “I’ve seen water like this, but never in a river this big.”

“It’s safe to drink, right?” Ulger asked.

Mist nodded. “It might taste a little heavy, but it’s safe.”

Ulger dipped a hand into the water and brought a cupped palmful to his mouth. “Heavy? It tastes great!” he said, taking the waterskin off his belt and pouring the water within out onto the grass.

“It’s got the steepest bank I’ve ever seen in a river flowing this slow,” Sarraya said, flitting over and landing on Ulger’s shoulder. “There’s no slope at all. It goes from river’s edge to the very bottom just like that.”

“Don’t ask me how it got like this,” Mist snorted.

“I hope we don’t have to cross it,” Ulger grunted. “It might get tricky.”

“Kimmie’s trail goes along the river’s edge, and she’s still on horseback,” Azakar told him as he stacked firewood by the firepit. “If she crossed it, she did it at a ford, so we should be alright.”

The evening was pleasant enough. Tarrin watched Ulger give Zyri and Telven lessons with a sling, and they had an excellent meal of rabbit stew and roasted rabbit, victims of Ulger’s sling during the course of the day. Tarrin was mildly surprised at the Knight’s accuracy with what was basicly a hunting weapon, even when mounted on a moving horse. Tarrin opted to take the watch all night that night rather than have his friends not get enough sleep, and after everyone else went to bed, he took out a rolled leather kit that held all his fletching tools and got to work with it.

By morning, he was quite satisfied with the result. He had three small bows, designed specifically for Zyri, Telven, and Jal, one made out of a large section of blueleaf wood that he’d brought along with his fletching equipment, in case he needed to make a new bow, the second made of yew, and the third made of elm. The bluish wood wasn’t often used for bows in Aldreth, not when there was oak handy, but Tarrin had found that blueleaf wood was an excellent wood for people who weren’t all that strong. It was resilient and gave a good feel for the pull, but wasn’t so strong that they’d find fully drawing the bow impossible. It was the perfect training wood, because they’d learn how to fully draw the bow without it exhausting them, teaching them proper form, yet still have enough power behind the arrow to bring down small game, and perhaps send an arrow a good three hundred spans with a favorable tailwind. Tarrin had brought a blueleaf bow staff as part of a group of six, the other five of which were woods more mainstream for use as adult bows, and it had always been part of his fletching supplies, so he’d brought it out of habit. That habit had been good luck for him, for he’d had it on hand to do this. He’d used the blueleaf wood to make a bow for Jal, the yew to make a bow for Zyri, and used the elm bow staff to craft a bow for Telven. They were proportionally the size of longbows for the children, each one specifically made just a bit too large so they could grow into them.

It had been a long time since he’d made a bow. He’d forgotten how easy it could be when one had the proper tools and wasn’t entirely worried about being utterly perfect. The bows had been hastily made, but they were still quality work, very simple longbows without recurve or additions. The only real extravagance he had put into them was a nock in the handle to help guide the arrows.

“I see you were busy during the night, dear one,” Dolanna said as she came out of her tent, wearing a simple robe over a nightshirt.

“It gave me something to do with my hands,” he shrugged, looking up at the sky. “Our good luck is over concerning the weather.”

She looked up with him, at dark bands on the eastern horizon that was hiding the sunrise. “We will survive, though riding in the rain was never my favorite pasttime,” she told him. “For the children?”

“Something in me objects to them learning how to use a sling and not a bow,” he answered.

She chuckled. “You are from Aldreth, dear one. They give infants longbows there almost as soon as they can grasp it. I have never seen a group of people who were collectively more accurate with a bow than those from Aldreth. They truly made a name for themselves during the Battle of Suld. General Kang was utterly astounded by their accuracy.”

“Well, we do favor it,” Tarrin nodded in agreement, picking up the bow he’d made for Telven. “I’ve never so much as picked up a sling in my life. I’ve always had one of these.”

Dolanna was about to say something, but her eyes narrowed as she looked behind him, then she looked to the fire. “Dear one, have you brought more firewood from the packs?”

“No, I didn’t,” he answered, looking at the fire, which was still merrily burning, and then to the firewood. He looked at it, wondering why Dolanna would ask that question, then he blinked and realized that the same amount of wood was in that pile as there had been when he started on the bows. And he’d gotten so wrapped up in crafting them, he couldn’t remember a single time he’d put more wood on the fire outside of throwing wood shavings into it and the splinters of wood he’d taken off the bows as he made them. But that was not enough wood to make the fire last that long.

The fire had burned all night without fuel.

“Huh,” Tarrin said, looking at the pile of wood. “I never noticed the fire dying. It never did.”

“Dear one…do you feel different?” she asked him intently, her eyes serious. “Obviously, you have caused this to happen. Fire is your realm. But—“

“I haven’t had my wings out all night, Dolanna,” he protested. “I can’t use my powers without bringing them out.”

“I think you might want to explore the boundaries of your abilities once again, dear one,” she told him, pointing at the fire. “That is still burning strong and well, and you have not stoked it. Now that I look closely, I see that there is nothing but ashes remaining. The fire is burning atop them.”

“That shouldn’t be possible.”

“It should not, at least with your powers being the way they are at home. But this is not Sennadar, dear one. Just as Sorcery and other forms of magic are different here, then perhaps so are your powers. Try to do something.”

“I, alright,” he said, holding out his hand and trying to create a small ball of fire in his palm.

And it appeared.

“Well,” Dolanna said with a smile. “I think that this world is starting to affect your abilities, dear one.” She reached into his hand and took the ball of fire from it, which did not vanish once it left his hand. “But the fireform cat you created the other day did vanish,” she said with suddenly pursed lips. “This might be an aspect of a shift in your power. Perhaps when you discovered you could join to a fireform, you unlocked a new branch of your powers heretofore undiscovered, which is only now beginning to manifest in a way we can see. That, or the realization caused a sudden increase in your powers, like making a jump between Sorcerer and da’shar.”

“I don’t see how, Dolanna. I’ve had these powers for years, and I know them well. They’re not like Sorcery. They tell me what they can and can’t do, after a fashion.”

“As I recall, dear one, you were resistant to Phandebrass’ attempts to help you explore the extent of your abilities. He told me that you might very well be capable of other things, but you lacked the desire or motivation to explore those boundaries. Perhaps they told you only what they thought you wanted to hear.”

“Maybe.”

“And as I also recall, you did tell me that you had no idea how to use these powers when the sword changed you.”

“Those are a different set of powers, Dolanna.”

“Are they? They are just stronger, dear one. The powers you have now are just shadows of your true potential. If you could not use your full power because of a lack of understanding of it, is it not a logical assumption to say that you might have also not fully learned how to use the shadow of that power as well, since you have never fully explored its limits?” She held the little ball of fire out so he could see it. “This does not lie, dear one. Your powers are different now, or stronger, else this ball would not be here.”

He couldn’t refute her logic, or the ball of fire in her hands. “It’s possible,” he acceded.

“Dear one, tell me something. The powers you have in your current state. Are they still considered divine, or aspects of fire?”

He gave her a look. “It’s still divine power, Dolanna. It just manifests as fire.”

Her eyes glittered for a long moment, and she gave him the strangest look. It was amused.

“What?”

“Nothing, dear one. Just satisfying an old curiosity, that is all.” She touched the fire in her palm with a finger, and saw that unlike a fireform or the fire of his wings, this was normal fire, without substance.

“Morning,” Haley called as he came out of his tent. He was wearing nothing but a pair of linen knee-length undergarments, the name of which escaped Tarrin. They were a Shacèan garment…he thought they were called braes, but he wasn’t entirely sure. The garment did, however, show off a very sleek body, the perfect blending of muscle and slimness. Tarrin could admire Haley’s physique for the appeal it would hold for a human female. “No one else is up?”

“I’m letting them sleep a bit,” Tarrin answered. “Sleep well?”

“Well enough,” he shrugged, stretching. “How was your night, Dolanna?”

“It was pleasant, dear friend,” she replied with a gentle smile, reaching her hand out to him as he approached them. He kissed the back of her hand gallantly, then seated himself by the fire with them. “I see now what I heard you two talking about,” he announced, nodding at the small ball of fire in Dolanna’s other hand. “Having growing pains, Tarrin?”

Tarrin chuckled. “I guess so,” he agreed. “It feels weird to know that I can do things without having to take out my wings. I’m curious to know just how much I can do without doing it.”

“I don’t understand why you had to take them out in the first place,” Haley divulged. “After all, they were always there, just hidden.”

“In a way, the size of the wings determines the power Tarrin can bring to bear,” Dolanna told him. “Remember in Dengal, when he created the dragon of fire? Remember how his wings expanded in size before he did so?”

“Yes—ah, I see,” Haley nodded. “So, if you can use your powers now, with them at their smallest size, I’d wager that your powers are growing.”

“Or I’m learning how to get around that little condition,” Tarrin added. “Every rule has an exception, you know.”

Haley chuckled. “That’s the truth,” he agreed. “Would you like some tea, Dolanna? I have some excellent leaves from Xau Lu. It’s a mellow flavor, just a hint of tang, strong yet smooth on the palate.”

“When do I not want tea, dear friend?” she told him with a smile.

Tarrin reached behind him, and produce Dolanna’s rather worn travel kettle, and set it on one of the heated stones circling the fire. “It should be ready in a couple of minutes,” he told her.

“Would you like some, Tarrin?” Haley asked. “I have plenty.”

“I’m not all that fond of tea, Haley, thanks anyway,” he answered.

“Alright then. Be right back.”

They watched him go, and Tarrin picked up the bow he had made for Zyri, inspecting it. “I wonder how many kinds of tea he has,” he mused. “Every day he offers you something different.”

“I am curious to know myself.”

“Then ask him.”

“And ruin his fun? I think not, dear one. He enjoys surprising me,” she said with a strange little smile.

Tarrin looked at her for a short moment, then went back to inspecting the bow. He considered telling her his suspicions about Haley’s true feelings, but he decided that that might not be wise with Haley in possible earshot. “How long have you known him?”

“About fifty years,” she answered. “At that time, he was running a moneychanging business in Tor. He must move every ten years, or the locals notice that he does not age, and they get suspicious.”

“Ah. When did he open that inn in Dayisè?”

“Fifteen years ago,” she answered.

“I’m glad he was there. He was a lifesaver.”

“He is always there when I need a hand, dear one,” she said with an odd look towards the tent.

Tarrin quietly considered that look, and wondered if Dolanna had the same hidden feelings for Haley that Haley seemed to have for Dolanna.

The others started getting up, and Tarrin decided not to talk about this change in his power quite yet, at least with the others. He quietly pondered it as Mist made breakfast, and after he presented the children with their new bows and promised them he’d teach them how to use them in the evenings. He wasn’t sure if was a change in his powers, or if he’d simply acclimated to this world or his powers to the point where he could now access them without having his wings out. He actively avoided thinking about that power or using it too much, because the others didn’t understand the way he did just what those powers were and what they meant. They were the curse that made him separate from everyone else, the constant reminder that he could never again be a true part of the mortal world. He didn’t like to dwell on what that meant for too long, or it depressed him, to know that he simply didn’t belong anywhere. Unable to be understood by mortals, yet scorned by the gods, he was trapped between the two, cursed to an existence where he could look into both worlds and yet not be allowed to belong to either.

But at least he still had his friends and his family. Thank the Goddess that they at least accepted him for what he was, and at least with them, he did truly feel as if he belonged.

Sometimes, just feeling that way was all that mattered, regardless of the fact that it was merely an illusion.

They followed that strange river for two days before angling off to the northwest and travelling for five more days. The weather turned nasty on them, raining off and on every single day, sometimes so heavily that they were all soaked to the skin before managing to either find or construct shelter. One storm drenched them so quickly that Tarrin couldn’t even create a shelter from a fireform before he got soaked.

The days were quiet introspection for Tarrin, as he pondered the significance of the change in his abilities, but no amount of thinking about it produced any real answers. Fireflash and Mist’s presences in the saddle were a strange comfort to him as he thought about it, tangible reminders of the anchors that held him to the mortal world. Each evening after making camp, he and Ulger took turns teaching the children how to use their weapons, which also turned into a swapping of instruction between them, as Tarrin picked up a sling for the first time and started learning how it was used, and Ulger took some lessons in the finer points of marksmanship from an Aldreth bowman, who were now, after the battle of Suld, regarded as some of the best archers in all the world.

After the others went to sleep, Tarrin would go out a ways and try to understand how his powers had changed. It only took a few days of practice to determine that unless he had his wings out, his powers were very limited, restricted to little more than producing fire, and creating fireforms no larger than Fireflash. With his wings out, he found no real change in his abilities…they were the same as they had been before. They weren’t stronger and they hadn’t changed, the only real change seemed to have been in the fact that he could now produce very minor effects without having to take out his wings.

He pondered on that for an entire night and half a day, sitting in the saddle and thinking it over as Azakar guided them northwest, following Kimmie’s trail. The children had become accustomed to riding horses now, so much so that Jal’s horse wasn’t guided anymore. Haley had taken the boy aside and taught him how to control his horse, and he’d been an apt pupil. Then again, Haley had also cheated a little bit by telling the horse to keep up with the other horses. Telven didn’t complain about saddlesores anymore, and he’d become a little more accustomed to the peculiarities of the group in which he found himself, so Tarrin didn’t mind him at all now. Then again, Sarraya still bantered with Telven, keeping the boy amused and keeping him out of everyone else’s hair. Truth be told, Tarrin thought that Sarraya rather liked Telven. In him she found someone more along the lines of her own level of maturity. Despite the fact that she was an intelligent female, aged and wise, and a powerful Druid, Sarraya was still a Faerie, and that fundamental fact would never change. It would make her an eternal child; mischievous, petulant, impulsive, and flighty.

“Hold on,” Azakar called, holding up a mailed hand to stop the group. “There’s something wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Tarrin asked.

“The path’s all messed up. I see both hoofprints and footprints, and they go all over the place.”

Haley quickly dismounted, and to the gasps of Zyri and Telven, he shapeshifted into his hybrid form. Mist also jumped down from Tarrin’s saddle and shapeshifted into her normal form, and the two of them started going over the grass before them. Tarrin looked out ahead of Azakar, and saw a flat patch of grass with a black scar roughly circular in shape, looking like a firepit. The grass did look a bit trampled in places, as if a group had stopped to make camp, but Tarrin wasn’t close enough to it to give it a good inspection.

“There was a fight here,” Haley said immediately. “I can smell hints of blood. And that burned place is from a Demon getting killed.”

“A Demon?” Ulger said in concern, riding up from the back of the group.

“Kimmie and Phandebrass were ambushed,” Mist told them, moving around on all fours, analyzing the scents and visible marks left behind. “There were at least four different Demons and about fifteen humans.”

They all waited anxiously as the two of them combed over the scene.

“Phandebrass ran off that way on foot,” Haley said, pointing southeast. “From the smell of it, he was pursued. I’ll go track this down, Mist.”

“I’ll come with you,” Sarraya called, flitting off Telven’s shoulder and zipping over to the Were-wolf.

“Alright,” she said in a low growl. Mist continued to comb through the area quickly yet methodically. “Kimmie’s scent disappears, but there’s no Were-cat blood anywhere,” she finally announced. “She could have used magic to escape, something that doesn’t leave a scent behind.”

“Can you see anything, Zak?” Miranda asked.

“No, the trail just stops right here,” he answered her.

“Hmm. If she used magic to escape, my spell wouldn’t be able to show us that,” she fretted. “It would simply pick up where it starts again.”

“Can you find it? If she didn’t go far using magic,” Tarrin added.

“Yes, but it might take me some time. I’ll have to scry for it.”

“Let’s hold off until Haley gets back,” Ulger said. “Kimmie’s trail might pick up with his. That’s what I would think it would do. Odds are, she covered Phandebrass so he could escape, then used magic to get away and joined him somewhere else.”

“A definite possibility,” Dolanna agreed. “Mist, were there any casualties?”

“I’d say a bunch,” Mist grunted. “Human blood is everywhere. I think Kimmie and Phandebrass killed all the humans, and only ran from the Demons.”

Haley came loping back over a small rise. “Well, I found Kimmie’s scent,” he announced. “There are three more patches of burned ground over there. It looks like they killed the other three Demons. There’s also horse tracks that lead off to the north over there. From the looks of it, Phandebrass chased down the horses, they killed the last of the Demons after catching up to them, and then moved on.”

“Zak, go look, if you please,” Miranda prompted.

“Sure, Miranda,” he nodded, then spurred his horse into a quick gallop.

“I guess she didn’t get them all at that last battleground,” Ulger grunted. “That, or this was a group called in by the other group before Kimmie wiped them out.”

After a moment, Azakar galloped back and reined in before them. “Yeah, the trail picks back up over the hill,” he announced. “From the looks of it, they got out of here at a dead run, going northeast.”

“Can you blame them?” Sarraya said acidly. “It’s not every day you have to kill Demons, you know.”

“Quiet,” Tarrin said absently. “I don’t like this. I think we’d better catch up as fast as we can. How far are we behind now?”

“About fourteen days,” Mist answered. “They hadn’t been moving very fast, so we were catching up.”

“That will probably change now,” Dolanna said grimly. “Let us hope that this time, they destroyed all eyes which were following them.”

“Yah, I don’t think fighting Demons on a daily basis is something anyone but Tarrin would feel comfortable doing,” Sarraya said, giving Tarrin a sly wink.

He ignored the Faerie. “We might want to think of picking it up a little.”

“Agreed,” Dolanna nodded. “Let us finish this day’s ride at a canter.”

“Still, though, that’s quite a feat. Kimmie and that mage killing twenty people?” Ulger asked, then he laughed.

“I’d think I didn’t train her right if she couldn’t,” Mist snorted before shifting back into cat form and jumping up onto Tarrin’s boot, then vaulting back up into the saddle with him.

They rode through the rest of the day at a canter, and with a silence that came with knowing that their friends were in much more danger than they first believed. They all kept looking for traces that someone had been following Kimmie and Phandebrass, even Sarraya stopping her bantering with Telven to flit about to either side of their path and look for traces of others. Kimmie’s trail turned almost due west after about an hour of moving northeast, and they reached the upper edge of the forest that they had passed through to reach Dengal by sunset. The forest didn’t extend across their path, ending some league or so to the south. They put out two on the watch that night, and moved on the next morning with the same urgency.

After two more days of an increased pace, skirting north of the forest and moving out onto a slightly hilly grassland not much different than what was on the other side of the forest, the strain of it was starting to show on the children. They had just gotten used to riding, and days of moving at a canter was making them sore and stiff once more. Telven again started complaining, and even Zyri modestly asked if they could take an extended break when they camped for the night. “Even I could use a few extra hours out of a saddle,” Haley admitted. “Maybe we should set an early camp tonight.”

“It might be a good idea,” Dolanna agreed.

They set an early camp in a small grove of pear trees, that looked to have been deliberately planted at one time, but had not been tended by human hands for decades. Tarrin wasn’t entirely happy about the delay, but he knew that the other needed a little rest, especially the children, and he didn’t want to push them too hard. He wasn’t sure of their opinions of him quite yet, and he didn’t want to alienate them. He took Fireflash with him as he hunted for something fresh for dinner, ranging almost halfway towards the forest before crossing paths with an animal that looked like a small elk. After getting it back to camp, he found out it tasted like elk as well.

“It’s a bit small,” Mist told him critically.

“We have no idea how big it’s really supposed to be, and it’ll feed all of us,” he retorted.

“True.”

As Mist cooked, he gave the children a lesson with their bows. Telven didn’t like it all that much, much more interested in the sling, but Zyri and Jal were rather taken with their bows. Jal seemed to have a knack for it, naturally doing what needed to be done to make a good shot.

“Where did you learn how to shoot bows?” Zyri asked him.

“My father,” he answered. “Raise your elbow in a bit more, little bit. That’s better,” he said as she practiced drawing her blueleaf bow. “You want a straight line with the arrow and your arm. Crooking your arm like that’s going to put your aim off.”

“Was he a hunter?”

“He was a soldier,” he answered. “A member of an elite part of the Sulasian army called the Rangers. They were woodsmen, trained to use the forests of our kingdom to their advantage while they protected the land from invaders.”

“Did he ever fight a war?” Telven asked excitedly.

“Not a war,” Tarrin shook his head. “Thankfully. The worst thing my father ever had to deal with was bandits, and Goblinoids. My father taught me everything I know about the forest, and how to survive in it.”

“I’ve always been afraid of the woods,” Zyri admitted. “It’s dark there, and you can’t see what’s there.”

“And what’s there also can’t see you,” he told her.

“I never thought of it that way,” she said after a moment of contemplation.

“Is your father as big as you? What color is his fur?” Telven asked.

“My father is human,” Tarrin answered calmly. “So is my mother.”

“But, but how—“

“What I am isn’t how I was born,” he answered the boy. “It’s a condition that can be passed on to humans. I caught it, and now I’m a Were-cat.”

“Are we going to catch it?” Telven asked with a kind of wary excitement, both afraid of and intrigued by that idea.

Tarrin chuckled. “No, you won’t catch it,” he answered. “It can’t be passed by accident. It has to happen on purpose.”

“So someone did that to you on purpose?” Zyri asked astutely.

He nodded. “It’s a very long story, Zyri, but the short of it is yes, it was done on purpose. I wasn’t very happy about it at first, but now I rather like what I am, and I know that it had to be done.”

“Why?” she asked.

“That, little bit, is a story so long it can’t be told in one day,” he chuckled, handing her an arrow. “Now, this time, release smoothly. Don’t jerk, that makes the arrow fly off target. Remember, keep the bowstring on your fingertips, not in your knuckle joints, and remember what I taught you about releasing the string. Just relax your fingers and the bowstring slide out of your grip. Trust me, it’s not going to make the arrow go slower.”

After letting them practice a while, they put aside the bows and Tarrin joined as Ulger taught them how to use the sling. Tarrin was naturally quite agile and dextrous, even in his human form, and he caught onto the trick of it almost immediately, mainly because his training with the bow already gave him a knowledge of distance and trajectory needed to make a sling stone hit a target. “By Karas’ hammer, Tarrin, that’s not bad,” Ulger said appreciatively as Tarrin’s stone struck the knot of the tree which was their target. “You should put that bow down and go with the sling.”

“Not in this lifetime,” Tarrin told him evenly, which made him laugh.

“Just keep practicing,” Ulger told him. “You might find someday that that sling may be just what you need. Mine has saved my life several times over the years.”

“I think I’ll have Miranda make me one,” he nodded in agreement.

The elk was a good filling meal, and it made them all quite drowsy, sitting around a cheery fire and with soft bedrolls beckoning in the tents surrounding it. “Well, I guess we’d better draw for guard duty,” Ulger yawned.

“Just go to sleep,” Tarrin told them, taking the charm out of his pouch and affixing it to the back of his amulet. “I’ll keep watch tonight.”

“You sure, Tarrin? You’ve been relying on that thing a bit too much here lately,” Ulger told him.

“Ulger, I once wore it for over a year,” he told him sharply.

“What does it do?” Telven asked.

“I don’t have to sleep as long as I have it on my amulet,” Tarrin told him. “I’m going to stay up tonight and keep watch so everyone else can get some sleep.”

“That sounds neat!” Telven said. “You’d never have to go to bed again!”

“I think it would be boring,” Zyri said after a moment’s thought. “I mean, what do you do all night when everyone else is asleep?”

“That, little bit, is the double edge sword,” he said with a slight smile. “Keeping watch all night is boring if I have nothing to read or nothing to do.”

“Then what will you do tonight?”

“I’ll think of something, Zyri. I always do.”

“Well, I’ll stay up with you,” she announced. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

“You will go to bed,” Mist ordered. “If my mate wants company, he’ll come wake me up.”

“Maybe not that kind of company,” Sarraya whispered conspiratorially to Haley.

Tarrin stood up and shapeshifted into his normal form, so he had access to his powerful senses, moving without even thinking about it so Fireflash wasn’t dislodged from his customary place on his shoulder. He swished his tail a few times to get the stiffness out of it, then sat back down beside the fire. “I’m going to get some sleep, my mate,” Mist told him. She came over, leaned down and kissed him. “Want me to stay up with you?”

“No, no, go get some sleep,” he told her. “If you want to keep me company, get up before dawn. That’s when I get bored.”

“Alright. Night.”

“Sleep well.”

“I think Mist has the right idea,” Haley said with a yawn as the female Were-cat stalked off towards the tent she shared with Tarrin. “See everyone in the morning.”

“If you want someone to relieve you, Tarrin, you can come get me,” Azakar said as he stood up.

“Don’t worry about it, Zak.”

One by one, the others took to their tents, until only Zyri was left. “Well?” he asked her impatiently.

“I don’t want you to be alone,” she said in a small voice. “And I want to hear the story of what happened to you.”

“It’s not a good story, girl.”

“I’m not worried if it’s a bad story.”

“No, it’s not a nice story,” he told her honestly. “I don’t think you’re ready to hear it.”

“Why?”

“If you did, by the end of it, your opinion of me would be much different,” he told her, giving her a steady look. “I was a much different person back then, and I wasn’t nice.”

“Who you were doesn’t matter as long as you’re who you are,” she said sagely, then she blushed and gave him a sheepish smile. “It’s something my father used to say.”

“Your father was a wise man. Now go to bed.”

“But you’ll be alone.”

“I’m used to being alone,” he told her, then he looked into the fire, his eyes distant. “Bed. Now.”

“Yes, sir,” she responded, then got up from the ground and brushed off her skirts. He was a little surprised when she put her hands on his shoulder, barely missing Fireflash, and kissed him on the cheek. “Good night,” she said, then she scurried off to her tent.

Fireflash hissed a little as she retreated from them, but Tarrin just chuckled. “Stand down, you big fraud,” he chided.

Fireflash snorted a little, then jumped down onto his leg and looked up at him.

“You staying up with me, little one?” he asked.

Fireflash gave him a serious little look.

“I could use the company,” he said with a smile, reaching down and scratching the drake between the horns. He brought out his Gnomlin Travelling Spellbook and spoke the word that made it expand to its full size. “I also need to work on this a little. I’m trying to figure out Kimmie’s spells.”

Fireflash gave a little chirp, moving so Tarrin could put the book in his lap, then laying down on Tarrin’s lap just below the bottom edge of the book.

“Sometimes I agree,” he chuckled, then got to work.

He expected Mist to wake up early and come join him, but he didn’t expect Zyri. She came out of the tent she shared with her brothers well before dawn, wearing one of Dolanna’s nightshirts. She padded over in the warm, muggy night on bare feet and seated herself beside the fire.

“Go back to bed,” he ordered.

“I’m not sleepy anymore,” she replied in a measured tone, looking up at him. “Do you want some breakfast?”

He chuckled. “You’re going to cook?” he asked.

“I know how to cook,” she said in a slightly challenging tone.

“I’m sure you do,” Tarrin said with a slight smile.

Fireflash vaulted over to land on Zyri’s shoulder. The girl gasped in surprise, and froze like a startled fawn. “He won’t hurt you, little bit. He’s just curious.”

She remained still as Fireflash sniffed at her shoulder, but she started giggling when the drake stuck his nose against her neck, which turned into loud laughing when he flicked his tongue along the base of her jaw.

“Fireflash, behave, the others are still sleeping,” Tarrin chided the drake absently. “He’s playing with you, Zyri. He likes you.”

“Well, I kind of like him too,” Zyri offered. “Can I hold him?”

“Sure,” he answered. “If he doesn’t like you, he’ll just gas you.”

“He’ll what?”

“He can breathe out a gas that paralyzes people who breathe it in,” he explained. “The effect lasts a few minutes, but it’s not all that pleasant.”

“Wow, really?” she said in surprise. “That sounds really neat.”

“I had him do it to me once to test its power. Trust me, you don’t want to be gassed.”

“If you say so,” she said, gingerly taking the drake off her shoulder and holding him before her. Fireflash didn’t object at all, and cuddled with her when she held him up against her chest.

“He definitely likes you,” Tarrin informed her.

“What is he called?”

“He’s a drake. I told you that once before.”

“I forgot. He looks like the pictures of dragons they have in the old books.”

“He’s a cousin to dragons, just much smaller,” he answered her. “A real dragon is about five hundred spans long.”

“Do they look like him?”

“He’s a perfect replica of a dragon. Only smaller,” he chuckled. “Much smaller.”

“How big is five hundred spans?”

He held his hands about a span apart. “This is a span. A fully grown, mature dragon is five hundred of these long. The tops of their backs are about a hundred spans off the ground.”

“Wow!” she gasped. “That’s bigger than, than a warehouse!”

“Dragons are the most powerful creatures on my world. Nobody crosses them, but thankfully, they’re a peaceful species that doesn’t like to get involved with the smaller races.”

“They sound scary.”

“They look scary, and sometimes they can seem a little scary, but once you get used to them, you find that they’re actually rather nice. One of my best friends is a dragon.”

“Really? What’s he like?”

“She. Her name is Sapphire. She’s a blue dragon. She’s not so much as a friend to me as she is a part of my family.”

“Blue? She has blue scales instead of gold?”

He nodded. “She’s a bit arrogant, but you have to expect that from a dragon. They are powerful, and they know it.”

“I can’t imagine something being that big,” she said hesitantly.

“I know. It boggles your mind when you first see one. You almost can’t believe your eyes.”

She was quiet a long moment. “I want to hear the story,” she told him, then she blushed and gave him a demure look.

He looked at her, then chuckled. “I don’t think you’re going to take no for an answer,” he told her.

“Not if I can get you to tell me the story,” she answered.

“Well, if you want to hear it, that’s fine. But understand now that it’s not the kind of story you want to hear. Like I said, you’ll never look at me the same way again.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

He gave her a long look. “Alright, but remember, little bit. You asked for this,” he told her sincerely.

It took a surprisingly short amount of time to tell, as he reckoned things. That, or Zyri had woke up much earlier than he thought, for he finished the tale of his adventures before sunrise, even before Mist woke up and joined him. He told her the story evenly, without much emotion, describing the darkest of his deeds with the same detached tone as he described the greatest of his accomplishments. He left little out, even describing the destruction of Val and the battle with Val’s shadow which had unlocked the hidden power within him.

“So, you were a god,” she said in wonder. “No wonder you’re not afraid of the One!”

“The key word there is that I was a god, Zyrilin,” he said grimly. “Not anymore. The wings, the power, they’re like ripples in the surface of a pond after the rock is thrown in, just a shadow of what I used to be. I’m just as mortal now as you are, the only difference is that the echo of my lost power still resonates inside me, and that gives me the power I have now. I can die just as easily as you. The reason I’m not afraid of the One is because I understand the power that gods use, and I know that he can’t use all of his power against me. In the mortal world, here, his power is limited. Since he is, the power he can use against me is probably about the same as the power I have now. That makes us even.”

“What’s it like? Being a god.”

“I’m not a god,” he told her again.

“Well, having all that power,” she amended.

“I’d give it all up in a heartbeat,” he answered immediately. “It’s not a blessing, little bit. It’s a curse. If I could free myself from this power and be totally normal again, I’d do it without thinking twice.”

“But you have the power to do almost anything,” she protested.

“I do, at least if my sword decides it’s necessary to unlock my full power,” he admitted freely. “But just because I can do something, that doesn’t mean that I should. My goddess taught me that lesson long ago, as I struggled to control my Sorcery.”

“I wish I could use magic like that. I’d always be safe, and me and my brothers would always have food and a house and never be hungry again.”

“Zyri, remember what I told you about Jula?” he asked, and she nodded. “Think about what happened to her before you say that again. Don’t make the same mistake she did. The greater your power, the greater your duty to use it responsibly. The day you seek power for its own sake is the day that the power controls you instead of you controlling it.”

Zyri frowned, looking into the fire.

“Listen to my mate, girl,” Mist told her as she came out of the tent. Zyri looked at her, then blushed a bit when she saw that Mist had no clothes on. “He speaks from experience. Hungry, my mate?”

“A little, but you need to go put on a robe.”

“She’s not seeing anything she doesn’t have herself,” she shrugged him off as she passed by the girl and sat on her feet by the fire.

“Well, I don’t have a tail,” Zyri offered meekly, which made Tarrin laugh.

“What time is it?” Tarrin asked Mist. She always knew.

“About an hour before sunrise,” she answered. “We’ll need to get an early start to make up for the time we lost to the early camp and the rain.”

“Um, Lady Mist, Kimmie’s your daughter, right?” Zyri asked.

“Yes.”

“But I thought Kimmie was Tarrin’s girlfriend, that she’s the mother of two of his children.”

“She is.”

“And he said you’re the mother of his son.”

“I am.”

“Well, um, uh,” she hedged.

Mist gave her a piercing look. “Were-cats aren’t humans,” she told her. “Tarrin is my mate, but Were-cat natures don’t let us stay together forever. When we can’t stand each other anymore, we’ll split up. When we do, he’ll go back to Kimmie, or maybe go to Jesmind. The three of us share him, because we all love him. So we take turns being his mate.”

Mist had to be the only person he knew that could say the word love and make it sound like so business-like.

“Oh.”

“That’s good, girl. Don’t apply your human morals to us. We’re much more different from you than we look,” Mist told her.

“I’ll try, but it’s not easy,” she admitted.

“We always want to think of others the same way we think of ourselves,” Tarrin said absently. “It’s a trait I’ve seen in many races, not just humans.”

“Racial arrogance,” Mist grunted. “We all think we’re better than everyone else.”

“True enough,” Tarrin nodded. “You know, you should practice your human form, Mist. I’d like to have you around in something other than cat form more.”

“I should take my belt back from Miranda,” she growled. “Too bad you can’t use Sorcery here. We could really use your Illusions.”

“No use wishing for what you can’t have,” he told her.

“What do you want for breakfast?”

“I don’t really care. Surprise me. Just put on a robe before you start. I’d rather avoid all of Ulger’s