The Tower of Sorcery

by James Galloway

  Dolanna and Faalken returned not too long after the kids had run out of things to see and drifted away. Dolanna was smiling slightly as she approached, and Tiella, Walten, Daran, and Tarrin met the pair. "Renneè is still here," she told them. "He awaits us at the dock."

  "Lady Dolanna, there were Trolls in the woods while we were waiting," Daran said quietly.

  "Trolls?" she asked.

  The captain nodded. "I sent Nyllin to quietly warn the mayor. I've ordered my men to stay in the town for a couple of days to dissuade them from attacking anyone."

  "Tell me what happened."

  Daran and Tarrin quickly recanted the events that had happened not long ago. When it was over, Dolanna pursed her lips worriedly. "That's not normal behavior for Trolls," Faalken grunted. "They should have attacked."

  "I know," Daran agreed.

  "At this point, I am not going to take any chances," Dolanna said. "Let us get to the ship now. I will convince Renneè that leaving immediately would be a good idea."

  They walked the horses through town, reaching the docks. The river was deep towards the southern end of town, but shallowed dramatically towards the north, until it resembled little more than a stream, forming the ford from which the town took its name. It was a natural headwater that made it a logical place for a town to be. The town sported three wooden docks stretching out into the narrow river, and all three were occupied by three different types of ship. The farthest one away was a two-masted vessel with a narrow beam and a graceful look. The middle ship was an oared scow with a single, small mast, little more than a barge. The third ship was a single-masted fishing vessel of some kind, heavy with nets and rigging and smelling like fish even from this distance. Dolanna led them to the farthest ship, which was painted a dull brown. Men and women both moved along the decks, performing the repetitve chores that made up sailing, and one man, wearing a white silk shirt and with a wide, flat hat with an outrageously long feather in it, was standing at the rail. He was a thin man with a narrow face and long, wavy black hair spilling out from under his cap, and he wore a thin, long moustache and a goatee. It was obvious that he was Shacèan, if not from his graceful features, then from his frilly shirt and black trousers with its red sash, or maybe the light rapier he wore in his sash. Shacèans were about the only people who used the light fencing weapons.

  "Ah, Madam Dolanna, you return already," he called in a thickly accented voice. "Andevouz."

  "Andevouz," Dolanna repeated in a calm voice. "We must leave immediately. As soon as our gear is brought aboard."

  "Ai, madam, you hurry me, no?," he said, "but I am done with my loading, yes. Come, come, I will have your horses loaded, yes, and we will talk as my Lady begins her journey." He barked out a series of commands in a flowing, musical language, and a heavy plank was quickly lowered for the horses. They carefully led the horses up the narrow walkway, holding tightly to the reins, allowing canvas-shirted sailors to take the reins from them once they got the horses on board. The tall captain gave them all a cursory look, then he retreated to the raised sterncastle and grabbed hold of the wheel that moved the rudder. He barked out a few more commands, and another man started shouting a series of instructions. Dolanna and the others went up to the captain's sterncastle deck as the sailors hurriedly started untying ropes, slipping hawsers, and climbing up into the impressive rigging to lower the sails. Shacèans built very good ships, almost as good as Wikuni vessels.

  "A dangerous group, yes," Renneè noted as he watched his sailors free the ship from the dock. The vessel started drifting with the current, sliding away from shore. "But not without its flowers and jewels," he added, giving Tiella a look that made her blush suddenly. "Mon am, what manner of creature do you bring to Renneè?" he asked soberly, looking at Tarrin.

  "This is Tarrin," she said calmly. "He is my guest."

  "Ah, then he is my guest as well. Andevouz, Tarrin."

  "Tarrin, take off your robe," Dolanna instructed.

  Tarrin hesitated a bit, but did as she commanded. He never felt so self-conscious in his life. It was almost as if he was stripping in front of them. Renneè's eyes widened slightly at Tarrin's appearance, but he said nothing untowards. "Ai, I thought for a moment, you bring a Wikuni aboard my Lady," he said with a snort. "I have three cabins open for you, madam Dolanna. I have two other passengers as well, so it will be crowded at the dinner table, no?" He spun the rudder wheel a bit as they entered a shallow bend in the river. "It will be crowded, yes, but I know you will make do."

  "I appreciate your aid, Renneè, and that you do not ask too many questions," Dolanna told him.

  The Shacèan smiled at her roguishly. "No, madam, it is I who must thank you. Renneè would be sleeping at the bottom of the river, yes, if had not been for you. If this little thing pleases you, then it is with an open hand that I give it to you, yes." He sniffed a bit. "And only a fool demands to know the mind of a katzh-dashi, yes. And I am no fool."

  Faalken stifled a laugh, and Dolanna pinned him with an icy stare. "Who are your passengers?" she asked.

  "A merchant, yes, whose cargo we carry, and who is most likely very happy I left early. The other is a traveller, yes, who paid Renneè enough to sail for a year, and asked only for a cabin, meals, and not to be bothered."

  "I see," she said. "I thank you again for your help, Renneè."

  "De'cèst," he said with a smile.

  Their cabins were cramped, but on a ship, everything was cramped. There were three beds packed into a room a bit larger than a closet, with cabinets and a small stand for a washbasin and lamp. A single small porthole served as a window to the outside. Dolanna stepped into the door and regarded Walten and Tarrin calmly as Faalken stowed his armor into a tiny locker bolted to the floor at the base of his bed. "Feel free to move about as you wish," Dolanna told them. "Just be careful of the crew. Many of them do not speak our language, and Shacèans are known for their quick tempers. And do not, under any circumstance, allow one of their women to lead you off alone," she warned.

  "Dolanna, you're ruining the trip for them," Faalken jibed, grinning at her.

  Dolanna cowed the jovial knight with an unholy stare, and then continued. "The women will be friendly enough, but the men aboard will look upon it with jealousy. Shacèan women adore playing one man against another, so, for my own sanity, please refrain from getting involved."

  "Women sailors," Walten said with a bit of a laugh, after Dolanna had left. Walten wasn't crazy enough to say something like that in front of her. "What's next?"

  "The Ungardt do it," Tarrin told him, a bit waspishly. "I don't understand this Sulasian hang-up about gender. Women aren't little china dolls, Walten. My mother should have shown you that by now."

  "Yes, but your mother is, well, your mother."

  "She's just your average Ungardt woman, Walten," Tarrin told him bluntly. "Ungardt ships have as many women on them as they do men, and it seems like the Shacèans are much the same."

  "They are," Faalken said. "And you do what Dolanna said, Walten. The women here will try to get you alone, just to make their current beau jealous, and he'll carve his mark into your cheek if he finds out. And the woman will make sure he finds out."

  "That's a bit silly," Walten grunted.

  "Of course it is, but we're talking about women here," Faalken said, giving Tarrin an impudent grin.

  "I just said they're not helpless," Tarrin said. "I never said they weren't strange."

  All three of them laughed, and Tarrin went back to putting his clothes in the tiny chest at the foot of the bed he'd chosen for himself. "Never try to understand a woman," Faalken said with a chuckle. "It's like trying to make water flow uphill."

  Tarrin lingered in the cabin for a bit, then went out on deck for a while to enjoy the warm summer afternoon. The ship was sliding through the river waters like a knife, making excellent time with both the current and the wind helping them along. The ship bobbed slightly in the water, creating a rocking motion that he rather liked.
He looked up at the complicated rigging guiding the billowed sails, making sense out the seemling chaotic criss-cross of ropes and lines that held the two large sails at a precise position relative to the wind. Sailors crawled around up in the ropes constantly, because every turn of the river changed the ship's orientation to the wind, and that demanded a change in the position of the sails. Tarrin decided that running rigging for a riverboat had to be much harder than rigging a ship on open water, where it moved more or less in a straight line.

  It was going to rain tonight, he predicted, staring back at the clouds gather in the west through a break in the trees. It would be the first real rain since they left, and that was unusual. This was usually a rainy part of the summer. It had been much warmer than usual too. Maybe the two were related. Maybe the heat was making the rain dwindle down. But, on the other hand, it had been a very wet spring, so maybe the lack of rain in the early summer was just things evening out. He was no weather-watcher, like some in the village.

  "The fur, it is handsome on you," a woman's voice called. Tarrin looked up, and he found himself staring back into a rather pretty face. Her cheekbones were high, her chin sharp, and her nose thin and straight. She had deep green eyes, like emeralds, and she had red hair spilling out from under a kerchief tied around her head. She was partially laying across a spar in the rigging above. Her face conjured up a remembrance, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He felt like he was supposed to know her, even though he'd never seen her before. "I like the ears too," she remarked with a grin. Her voice was deep, strong, not delicate like a face like hers would suggest, but the Shacèan accent was strong in it. He saw that she was wearing a simple white cloth shirt with trousers made of sailcloth canvas. Her feet were bare, like most of the sailors, and he noticed that unlike the other sailors, she wore no jewelry at all, not even earrings. Her ears weren't even pierced. "How are you called, furry one?"

  "Tarrin," he replied shortly.

  "Tarrin," she said, trying the word out for size. "I like your name. Do you play angecen?"

  "No, I'm afraid not," he said, starting to get a bit edgy.

  "That is a shame, yes," she said, smiling at him. "Perhaps I will teach you, later. But for now, I have work to attend. We will see each other again, no?"

  "Probably," he said non-commitally.

  "We will, Tarrin," she promised, and Tarrin's ears picked up. Her voice had no trace of the Shacèan accent.

  He watched her gracefully climb higher into the rigging, helping to shift the sail to match the new angle of the wind. It was odd, but he dismissed it. His mother had gotten rid of her Ungardt accent, but she could easily pick it back up whenever she wanted. That woman had probably done the same.

  They ate dinner with the captain and his merchant passenger in the small officer's mess. Dinner consisted of a very savory fish stew that all but melted in Tarrin's mouth, and he liked it so much he nearly emptied the pot by himself. The merchant kept giving Tarrin wild looks, and barely spoke two words together throughout the entire meal. And as soon as he was done, he got up and left quickly. Tarrin sighed as he left, but there was nothing that he could do about it.

  "Dolanna, what is angecen?" he asked curiously.

  Renneè laughed richly. "Angecen?" he repeated, then laughed again. "Angecen means Maiden's Kiss. It is a game that women play to tease men."

  Tarrin blushed furiously. "I didn't know," he muttered.

  "What woman said this to you?" the captain asked.

  "The redhead," he replied.

  "Ah, her," he said. "She is new to the Lady. I hired her this morning. Stubborn as a rock, but she is a good sailor, yes, very good." He gave Tarrin a look. "I am surprised she said this to you, yes. She has not been on the Lady long enough to find a beau. And, I am sorry to say, you are not what most ladies would look for in a man."

  "That's true enough," Tarrin agreed, looking at the palm of his paw soberly. Not indeed.

  Dolanna put her hand on his shoulder. "Tomorrow morning, I will start teaching you," she said. "Tiella, Walten, it would behoove you to sit with us, for what I will teach Tarrin will do both of you good as well. It is seven days to Ultern, so we will have plenty of spare time."

  And we're leaving behind those that were following us, Tarrin added silently.

  After dinner, Tarrin stood on the deck of the ship as it coasted to a stop and anchored in the river on the gentle side of a bend, anchoring for the night. The ship was well enough away from shore in the wide section of river to ensure that getting aboard would be very difficult, but there were sentries posted regardless. Tarrin looked up at the sky, up at the silvery darkness where the clouds concealed the moons and the Skybands, and felt the cool wind on his face. Wind carrying the green smells of the forest, smells that always seemed to soothe him, even back when he was human. He opened his eyes and looked down at his paws, studying the backs of them, marvelling at them.

  It was as if he'd never been anything else.

  It was a calm revelation, he admitted, but he couldn't even remember what it was like not to have a tail. What he felt, and smelled, and heard, it was as if they were things that had always been there, and the didn't seem so unusual or new to him now. He knew that that was just him getting adjusted to his new condition, but he never expected to forget what it was like to be human. The Cat had taken up its now-familiar place in his mind, singing to him the song of the instincts, supplying him with information that transcended human comprehension and thought, that which truly made him neither human nor animal, but both. He felt the cool wind blow, felt the first drop of rain touch his cheek, marvelling once again at himself.

  How alive he felt.

  He knew there was no going back. But he couldn't help but feel that this was how he was always meant to be. Over the last few days, such a short time, he had fallen into more than a mere acceptance of what he was, he had found true joy in it. There was just something incredibly pleasing about how the way the grass smelled in the morning dew, or the smell of a thousand kinds of flowers blowing in the wind, or the scritch scritch sound a squirrel's claws made on the bark as it moved. He began to find pleasure in his body as well, at its strength and agility, at his tail, and ears, and fur, and claws. It was no longer an alien thing to him, but his body, the body that was more of a home to him now that his human one had ever been.

  He also knew that in a time of anxiety he would feel much differently than he did now, when the dark part of his condition reared its head and made him afraid, but that would be then, and this was now. It would happen very soon, when he closed his eyes and went to sleep, and the dreams returned to him, the nameless dreams that he could never remember, yet never failed to startle him stone cold awake and in a cold sweat.

  He stood at the rail a moment longer before going below decks, smelling the rain, listening to the sharp staccato pattering of drops hitting the wooden deck, the ropes, the water, even the leaves and branches of the trees along the riverbank. Feeling it against his skin, feeling it in his fur.

  Feeling alive.

  Chapter 5

  Tarrin had suffered through another sleepless night. He was desperately tired, but every time he settled into slumber, the dreams would rise up again and shock him awake. And he could never remember what they were about. In its own way, that was even more frustrating and frightening, because the things that scared him so remained nameless, shapeless phantasms, things that he could not identify. He ended up on the deck of the ship well before dawn, standing at the rail and simply waiting for the sun to come up. He was completely exhausted, but he was so terrified of sleeping that even the thought of it made his blood go cold.

  He had no idea how long he stayed at the rail, wilted over it like a dying flower, until the first rays of the sun touched his face. With the rising light came voices, and sounds, and the smells of the humans as they rose from their sleep and went about the work of a new day. He watched them all with a detached curiosity, as Renneè came from his cabin and the officers
and the crew started readying the ship for departure. His exhaustion made it seem like he was watching everything through a filmy gauze over his eyes, and it took him moments to think even the simplest things through.

  The ship lurched, and Tarrin sank his claws into the deck and railing. The ship's bow anchor had raised, and the ship was starting to get pushed by the current. The ship had been stopped for the night with the bow facing the current to minimize the effect of it on the ship, and now the vessel was swinging around to put her stern to the current, to face downriver, using the stern anchor as a pivot to keep the vessel stable. The stern anchor was raised, and the ship pushed ahead with the current. The wind was very faint, the air calm and the sky clear, so the sails were very slack as the ship pushed downriver. Dolanna's clean scent touched his nose, but it took him a moment to recognize it. "It is time for breakfast," she said.

  "I'm not hungry," he replied.

  She put her hand on his shoulder, and he flinched away from it. The grip hardened, and she made him turn and face her. She gave him a look of concern. "How long has it been since you slept?" she asked.

  "I don't know," he replied. "I sleep a little at night, but not for long."

  "Dreams?" she asked, and he nodded. "There are some medicines I can give you that will let you sleep without dreams, but I do not want you to have to rely upon them. Tonight I will give you a dose of it, and we will see how it helps you." She put a hand to his cheek, feeling his temperature. "Why did you not tell me of this?" she demanded. "Tarrin, if I am to help you, you cannot hide things from me."

  "I didn't think that you could do anything," he told her quietly.

  She gave him another look. "Would you prefer to try to sleep now?" she asked.

  "No, I can wait," he assured her.

  "Tell me about these dreams," she said.

  Tarrin closed his eyes. "I don't remember them when I wake up," he told her, "but whatever they are, they scare me so bad that I'm stone cold sober and awake when I do wake up. It's strange...the dreams just vanish like mist the instant I wake up, as if they'd never been. All it leaves me is the memory of being afraid."