"You will come with me," Amelyn said with a glare. "The Council is going to try to help you overcome this problem."
"No."
"What?"
"I said no," he hissed. "I'm not going to do anything until I can go visit my parents. My father was hurt, and I want to see him. That means that you're going to lower the Ward so I can go to them, because I'm not going to have them put themselves at risk of another attack by coming here to see me."
"How dare you--"
In a heartbeat, she was against the wall, her slippered feet dangling about two spans off the ground. She held onto Tarrin's wrist, her eyes wild, as his paw full of silk dress kept her suspended above the floor. "I dare alot when it's my parents who were hurt, and I have no idea how they are," he said in a steely, low voice. "I don't know who you people think you are, but you keep forgetting that it's my life you're trying to control. I've had as much of that Ward as I can stand. I want to see my parents, and I want off these grounds, and I want it now. You're not keeping me caged anymore."
"You will not make demands of us!" she snapped at him, though it was plain she was almost terrified by the hostile look in his eyes. She had alot of guts. Tarrin could respect that.
"I'm not making demands," he said, letting go of her. She got out to arm's reach of him, and smoothed her rumpled blue dress, seemingly unconcerned by the rough treatment. "I'm telling you this simply. Either you lower the Ward and let me go visit my parents, you'll let me go see my parents whenever I want to do so, and you'll let me off the grounds when I need to get away from this place for a while, or I stop everything. I will not go to classes, I will not learn, and I'll break the left arm of every Sorcerer you send to my door. I want the same privileges and rights as other Initiates. There is no negotiation in the matter. Those are my terms, and I won't accept anything less. I'm not living in your damned cage anymore."
"But you'll be opening yourself to attack! You may be killed!"
"Better to die in an alley in Suld than live one more day trapped in this prison," he said with enough fervor to make Amelyn's two companions take another step away from him.
"This, isn't something that I can approve right here," she said hesitantly. "Only the Keeper can make that kind of decision, and she's at the Royal Court this morning."
"Then tell her when she gets back," Tarrin told her calmly. "Because I'm not doing anything until I see my parents, off the grounds."
"And if she declines?"
"Then you'll be feeding me for nothing," Tarrin said flatly. "I'm not afraid of you, Amelyn, or your Council. You can't hurt me, you can't use your Sorcery on me, and if you get nasty, I'll just start killing people until you stop. I figure that you'll give me what I want, because I'm not asking for anything outrageous, and I'll be very dangerous to keep on the grounds if you don't. Now if you'll excuse me, get out of my way."
"I haven't excused you, Initiate," Amelyn said in a hostile voice.
She squeaked once when he backhanded her in the shoulder, then it turned into an explosive loss of breath when she slammed into the wall. The other two Sorcerers stared at him in utter shock, totally dumbfounded that he would actually strike a member of the Council. He didn't hit her that hard, only hard enough to get her out of the way. "Now I'm excused," Tarrin said flatly, walking past the winded Mind Seat, and having the other two hug the walls to get out of his way. "And Amelyn, don't ever get in my way again," he warned her as he walked away. "I wouldn't shed a tear over spilling your guts on the floor."
All in all, that went as he expected. He established his demands, made the consequences clear, and also made it plain to them that he wasn't afraid to fight the Council. Either verbally or physically. They didn't know if he was stable. He'd take advantage of that.
Tarrin stalked away, looking to them like he was one step from a rage, but they didn't see the smile on his face.
Tarrin spent the time after confronting Amelyn as far away from everyone as possible, so he took his book, changed form, and crept into the courtyard in the middle of the maze. With the statue of the Goddess watching on, he reclined in the grass near the fountain, surrounded by smells of grass and trees and flowers, letting them distract him from reading the book. The garden, and the maze, were warm and comfortable, and that was an aspect of the magic that saturated the grounds. Long ago, he'd learned, the Ancients wove powerful magic that kept the gardens warm all year round, permanent magic that always ensured that the Tower would have green trees and vibrantly colored flowers. The magic had also infused the plants, making them bloom all year round in a perpetual spring. The air outside the garden was cool, almost crisp, and the late autumn sun carried a magical warmth that made it feel like it was early summer. It was but one secret lost to the modern katzh-dashi, lore locked within books that nobody could read, driving the Lorefinders crazy with its tantalizing proximity.
There was no going back now. But then again, he knew that there was no going back the minute he told Keritanima--or she told him--what was going on. He'd set events into motion that would ultimately end with him fleeing the Tower, and would put him in a great deal of danger. But he'd grown used to that feeling. He didn't feel safe in the Tower, not even around the very people that professed to be so worried about him, and it had developed into a constant tension within him that almost seemed to be a part of him now. It had been the visit to his parents that made it vanish, made him understand what it was and how it affected his behavior. It was what made him so short-tempered and waspish. Hitting Amelyn was a good example. He never meant to strike her, but when she laid her attitude down on him, he simply reacted, and that had been the result. And it had felt so normal that he had brushed it off, as if it was an entirely proper thing to do. To the Cat, he guessed it was. Exertion of physical force was perfectly acceptable to his animal instincts, for to them, the ends justified the means. He wanted her out of the way, and she was moved out of his way. Had he been outside the Tower grounds, he doubted he would ever have done something like that. And now that he knew about it, understood it, he would have a better chance of controlling it.
It still made him nervous, though. He had no idea how to play these games of intrigue. He hoped that what he did was a good way to start. It was designed to both set up the rebellion Keritanima wanted, and also to try to provoke the Keeper into divulging something of use to them in front of Tiella. His friend would only have five days to help, because he knew her, and he knew that she could breeze through the final test of the Novitiate. Tiella was very smart. He'd rather have set things up with the Wikuni first, Goddess knew how many of her plans he disrupted by acting on his own, but it had been a spur of the moment thing. The Cat liked spontenaity, and it impressed that characteristic into Tarrin's conscious mind.
Two worries, very different, but neither of them easy to put aside. The balance in him seemed stable enough, but actions like what he did to Amelyn never failed to start making him worry about where he stood within himself. Because of the totality of the merging between him and the animal instincts, he had lost the ability to tell where his rational mind ended, and his instincts began. He guessed that was good, but it was still a frightening concept. The old Tarrin, the idealistic, dreamy youth who was probably a bit too naive, was gone. He was dead. There was nothing but the new Tarrin now, a brooding, moody individual always one step from hurting someone. But maybe the new Tarrin would himself fade away in time, giving ground to the aspect of himself that he discovered the night before. An entirely different Tarrin appeared last night, one that even surprised him, that of a carefree, playful young Were-cat who felt perfectly at ease with himself and those around him.
That was a reaction to his environment, and it made him realize that he was very much an animal in that regard. He was being influenced by what he felt around him. He never felt safe in the Tower, was always on his guard and always wary and afraid, and it showed in his behavior. When he escaped from the Tower, if only for a night, it was as if he had been reborn. But what w
orried him in that regard was how long he could endure the environment of fear before it permanently scarred him. Jesmind had talked about being Feral, and now he had an idea of what that meant. The idea that he would never feel safe anywhere, would always live in fear, was almost enough to send him into a panic.
Forgetting the book, Tarrin changed form and curled up in the grass beside it, finding the ground much more comfortable when he was in his cat form. The warmth of the sun almost seemed to stroke his fur, and it seduced him into closing his eyes and simply basking in it.
You seem troubled, my kitten, that choral voice shimmered around him.
"Goddess," he said respectfully in the manner of the Cat. "Where have you been?"
Where have you been? she demanded in reply. As you can see, it's not like I can step down and go for a walk.
"Yes you could."
True, but it always sounds good, she said in a choral echo of silvery laughter.
"I thought you left for good."
Kitten, I am always with you, she told him in a loving voice. You may not feel me, but your heart does. You should listen to it. The amulet you wear connects you to me, just as much as the brands on your shoulders connect you to Fara'Nae. It lets us keep track of you, and make sure you're doing alright. I worry about you. So does she, for that matter.
"I guess I feel good that you do," he said honestly, then he caught her words. "She worries about me? Who?"
Fara'Nae, kitten, she replied. Your brands make you one of her children too. She keeps an eye on both you and Allia. Now, since I'm glad that I can still lure you in here, let's move on to the business I have with you.
"You lured me in here?"
Why else did you want to come? she asked winsomely.
"I wanted to go somewhere where nobody would bother me."
Yes, and all it took was a little reminder of my courtyard to bring you to me, she told him. Don't worry at it, kitten. It's a god thing.
"I'll take your word for it," he said urbanely.
She laughed delightedly. Look at my statue, kitten, she ordered, and he raised his head and did so. Around the nude figure's neck was a shaeram, one that looked like it was made of silver. You see the shaeram? I want you to take it and give it to Keritanima. It's for her, just as your amulet was for you and the ivory shaeram was for Allia.
"Why don't you just lure her in here?"
Because Keritanima is agnostic, she replied calmly. That means that, though she knows the gods exist, she doesn't actively worship any of them because they haven't proved that they want her.
"That doesn't make any sense."
It's a common trait in mortalkind, kitten. She's rejecting the gods, because she feels that they have rejected her. It would take a god speaking directly to her to prove that she's wanted, but her agnosticism prevents any god from speaking directly to her. I can't speak to her heart until she opens it to me.
"You spoke to me."
Yes, but you had an open mind, and you don't reject the gods, she replied. Keritanima's heart is closed, because of her position. She can't afford to be open to such things, because she sees it as a weakness, a way for her enemies to come at her. She's even more distrustful than you.
"Oh," Tarrin mused, thinking that he understood it. "It sounds like you want her."
She is a good woman, kitten, the Goddess told him. No god turns away from a subject in need, and Keritanima is in need. If she's not careful, she'll end up like her father. Dark, cynical, and obsessed with holding onto her throne. It would be a tragedy to see such potential wasted. She's just like you, my kitten. All she needs is some positive support and a bit of nurturing, and she'll turn out to be a wonderful queen. The kind of queen that's remembered for thousands of years for her beneficent rule.
"She doesn't want to be queen."
We'll see, the Goddess said slyly. I want you to give her the amulet, kitten. Give it to her, and tell her that it's a gift from the goddess of the katzh-dashi. If I'm right, it will give me enough of an opening to speak to her heart.
"That'll probably make her suspicious."
Yes, it will, but it will also make her curious, the Goddess replied. That curiosity may be enough. Keritanima is just like the fox she resembles. She's intensely curious, and once her curiosity has been piqued, she's almost incapable of not satisfying it.
"I noticed that about her."
I rather thought that you did. I've also noticed you noticing some other things about her.
Had he been in his humanoid form, he would have blushed. "I guess it's just curiosity," he replied. "All that fur must itch underneath those clothes."
Look at it from her side. She's never known anything else, now has she?
Tarrin couldn't argue that point.
Just do me my favor, kitten. Try to get it to her as soon as you can. It's rather important.
"I will," he promised. "I have a question."
Go ahead.
"What's going on? I know you know."
Yes, but I can't tell you, she said, almost regretfully. There are things that you have to discover on your own, and the actions you take because of what you know will decide your future. I can't interfere, because they must be your choices, unclouded by nudging and advice. I can't tell you anything you don't already know, but I can clarify some information you already possess.
"If I were to throw out an assumption, would you tell me if it's right?"
Some yes, some no, she replied. It will depend on how correct it is.
"Can you tell me what happened to me? In the Conduit?"
All I can say is that it awakened your true power, she replied. It is a part of who and what you are. They call you a Weavespinner, and they are correct. But they don't understand what that title truly means.
"What does it mean?"
It means that you are the Mi'Shara, she replied cryptically.
Mi'Shara? What in the world did that mean?
"That's not much of an answer."
It wasn't much of a question, she replied whimsically. Time is growing short, my kitten. Do me my favor and give Keritanima the amulet. There will be time enough for talking later. Remember, I do have other things to do, and I'm putting them off to talk to you.
"I'm so sorry to disrupt your schedule," Tarrin said dryly.
The Goddess laughed, a sound that vibrated in his soul, and in the strangest way, pleased him greatly. You are a treaure, my kitten, she told him. We will talk again soon. Until then, be well, and remember that I love you.
And then the sensation of her was gone, leaving inside him an emptiness, and even more questions. And one certainty.
The Goddess had planted that information, just as deftly as Keritanima directed her spies. She was salting him with information he would need for those future choices, information that would allow him to make those choices.
The Goddess also had a hand to play, and she was playing it through him.
Tarrin realized that he was an instrument of the Goddess of the Sorcerers, but he also knew, in his soul, that she cared for him. She wouldn't do something horrible to him. It was a complex relationship, that was true, but he trusted her.
He had faith in her.
Changing form, Tarrin waded through the fountain and carefully, gently slipped the amulet's silver chain off the statue's neck. The smell of the silver rose his hackles, and his pads burned where it touched him, clear warnings to him that the metal posed a danger to him. He stared at the statue for a long moment, taking in its flawless beauty, but his attention was focused on the gentle, loving expression on its face.
He had no idea what mire of intrigue he was thrown into, but he had the feeling that the Goddess would provide, even as he was certain that she was also a player in the game. Tarrin was her trump card, and he realized that he would do what she asked, if only because he trusted her, he believed in her.
She was his Goddess, and he had a duty to obey.
"I do believe," he said to the statue, cupping its lovely
face with his paw's palm. "I do have faith. And I don't think I'll ever be alone." He leaned in and, ever-so-gently, kissed the statue on the cheek.
Then he was gone, to find Keritanima, to come to terms with the stirrings of religious contentment he felt inside.
In the empty courtyard, where not even the wind reached, the elegant, beautiful statue was smiling, and its eyes blazed with incandescent white light. The grass and flowers rippled from the power emanating from the statue in cascading waves, invisible bands of pure power that shivered the air itself.
The incandescent blazing eyes of the statue dimmed, and the expression on its stone face was one of joy.
Tarrin caught up with Keritanima just as she broke class for lunch. Tarrin himself was still a bit dazed after accepting the Goddess. It was a strange feeling, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. Keritanima looked distracted, no doubt because her mind was still engulfed in the teaching of Sorcery. The Wikuni was indeed a natural, he realized. After only days of training she could conjure up very effective illusions. Allia, on the other hand, was still struggling just to pull flows from the strands. After the individual training, then they would all be put back into a class, where they would learn standard weaves, and also learn more about the Tower, the Goddess, and other things that only concerned those who could become katzh-dashi.
"Tarrin," she said in a nasal voice that told him that he was addressing the Brat Princess. "Want to come eat lunch with me?"
"I guess so," he replied after a slight hesitation.
"You forgot something," she flared, her amber eyes flashing.
"Your Highness," he added absently.
"That's better," she said calmly.
"What did you learn today?"
"Oh, I learned lots of things!" she said brightly. The Brat Princess shared Keritanima's enthusiasm for Sorcery. "Lula's such a good teacher. She taught me a weave that chills my milk, and a weave that makes stone become soft like clay, and another weave that warms the air around me if I'm cold."
The Tower of Sorcery Page 73
