Weavespinner

by James Galloway

  But this was not the time to be pondering such trivial matters. He didn't have much time, and he had alot to do. He walked over to the mirror, feeling his tail act to counter-balance him, and he felt oddly whole once more, rather relieved to be free of the debilitating constraints of the human form, to be himself once more. He had enjoyed the time as a human, but now that his mind was once again whole, it would never have been content to remain in that confining body. He leaned down and looked into it and found the reflection staring back at him exactly as he remembered it to be, the maturity that had been put into his features by Shiika's aging kiss, the height, the fetlocks. He wondered why he had regained his height, when even the Goddess said he wouldn't have it if he was turned again. She said it was a measure of age, and that age was stripped when the Were magic was torn from him. But he was his tall self once more, the age taken from him replaced when the Were nature was imparted to him again. He touched his cheek, then his jaw, then reached up and delicately pinched the tip of his cat ear, feeling it both in his fingers and in the ear, which flicked irritably from the pressure. Yes, everything seemed the way it was supposed to be.

  He was whole.

  Conjuring a new vest--he was rather fond of vests now--he put it on over the shirt, and then realized what he'd just done. Obviously, his Druidic powers hadn't been damaged by the trauma of losing and then regaining his Were nature. Then again, he didn't remember thinking about Conjuring it either. It had just happened. He remembered Jenna's gifts, and went over to the night table and picked up the Cat's Claws. They were too small for his wrists now, but that was no problem. Picking through the weaving of their magic, he worked out how to enlarge the bracers without disrupting the impressively complicated spells that Jenna had woven into them. He tended to that little task, and after taking on human hands to let him get them on without making the bracers grotesquely large, he slid them into place.

  That was an idea. It had been a month or more since he'd talked to the Goddess, and he felt that she may tell him some of the things he wanted to know. Besides, a month in human form meant a month without talking to him--though why she stayed away was beyond him--meant that there were things going on out there that she may need him to know.

  "Mother," he called in a grim tone.

  And then she was there. It was not the voice, it was not an image or projection of her, it was her. His new memory told him that this was her material form, and using it brought along very real danger. It was her icon, the very one that usually stood out in the hedge maze, animated and breathed into life. It was still stone, but it was living stone, and a stone made to feel and act as flesh. Infused with the power of the Goddess, it acted as her direct agent in the material world while the rest of her power remained out wherever it was gods were. Even his newfound knowledge didn't contain that information. She looked exactly as he remembered from the two times he'd seen this before, the tall, stately, breathtakingly beautiful woman with glowing white eyes and hair striped in the seven colors of the rainbow, the seven colors that represented the Spheres of Sorcery. She wore that same dress that looked to be made out of captured starlight, shimmering with her every movement, and now he understood why the Sha'Kar wore those shimmering fabric gowns. Not to be ostentatious, but to honor the Godess by wearing clothes similar to those she preferred to give to her icon. Many of the things the Sha'Kar did were honors to the Goddess, even the smallest trivial customs. He had never realized how devout they were.

  "Mother," he said with calm devotion, reaching out his paws to her. She stepped up and took them, looking fondly up into his eyes, then she took one of his paws between her hands and stroked the black fur gently.

  "My sweet kitten," she said in her choral voice, as if so much power lay within it that no one voice could contain it. He had to fight the urge to kneel before her; he knew she hated that.

  "Who did it?"

  "I'm not going to tell you," she said bluntly. "If you want to find out, then you're on your own."

  That was a disappointment, but he bit back a waspish retort. She wanted him to treat her like a friend but he still knew there was a line that he would not cross.

  "Why did I get back my height?"

  "Because the person used your own blood," she answered. "That changed things considerably. When you changed back, you changed into what you wanted to be, not what the transformation would force upon you. Probably for the first time ever, a Were-kin had total control over his own transformation. Had it been another female's blood, even Jesmind's blood, your turning would have been as if it happened the first time. Your physical abilities may have been different, your Druidic aptitude would certainly have been different, and you may even have had different color fur. That's not set, you know. It depends on the one that turns you."

  "I didn't know that."

  "Since it only happens once, it's not the kind of thing even the Were-cats ever managed to find out," she said with an impish smile.

  Tarrin realized what she'd said. "They used my blood?" he asked in surprise. "How could they get that?"

  "From the stores of it the Tower still holds," she answered simply.

  "Then it could have been anyone!" he said with a groan.

  "That's right. It could have been anyone," she said calmly. "So you don't have to be nasty to the females. I'm not saying one of them didn't do it, but you shouldn't blame them all before finding out for yourself."

  "I guess, but Jesmind is really going to hear it from me," he warned. "I'm still mad about how she treated me when I was human. It's not all just going to be alright now that I'm Were again."

  "That's your choice, kitten," she said evenly, betraying no hint of her personal feelings in the matter.

  "You've given me a place to start, at least," he grunted. "Not everyone knows about that blood, and it shouldn't be too hard to find out who's been there in the last few days."

  "Just don't let it consume you, kitten. You have other things to do."

  "I know, Mother," he said, leading her over to the bed and helping her sit down. He, on the other hand, remained standing before her, still with his paws between her hands. "I'm giving myself three days, then I'm leaving. Whether I find my answers or not."

  "I don't object to that," she smiled. "I know you know where you're going to go." He nodded, but she cut him off before he could speak. "I know where it is," she said in a cautioning tone, shifting her gaze to the door, and the two Knights that stood beyond it.

  "It was the best place I could think of," he explained.

  "I agree with you," she smiled.

  "Mother, what happened to me when I was turned again?" he asked. "With the potion and all. I feel a little different now than I did before."

  "That's to be expected," she said calmly. "Your Druidic powers are stronger now than they were before, because of the irregularity of your turning. You may be a warrior, but your soul is that of a magic-user, and that caused you to strengthen your ties to the All with the second turning. Since you knew it was there, you reached out for it this time much more willingly than the last, and it responded to you. You've reached a level of ability that's going to make it a little more complicated to use. You'll need Triana's instruction, and I suggest you don't use your Druidic talents unless absolutely necessary."

  He nodded in understanding, a little surprised. He had managed to strengthen his own Druidic ability? He wondered how that happened, because he certainly didn't remember reaching out to the All...and he could remember every excruciating moment of the process of being turned. Maybe it happened on a level beyone his senses, or maybe the pain had blinded him to what was going on. Either was a reasonable explanation.

  "I think I told you once before, kitten, that the Weave and the All are connected. I won't bore you with an exhaustive explanation of what happened, so I'll sum it up for you. Part of what makes you so powerful is that fact that you're both a Druid and a Sorcerer. Each feeds off the other in a way that you can't understand, and your ability to use both f
orms of magic makes both of them stronger. Without your Sorcery, your Druidic powers would have been only slightly stronger than Thean's, and without your Druidic ability, you would have been only marginally stronger than Jenna in Sorcery. When your Drudic abilities increased, it caused a proportional increase in your powers of Sorcery."

  "The Weave is part of the All," he reasoned immediately. "A body attuned to Sorcery would be more receptive to the power of the All, and a person capable of touching the All would have more power to use against the Weave."

  "Very well done, my kitten," she said with sincere delight, smiling gloriously at him.

  "That's why Jasana is so much stronger than I am," he concluded with a slap of his tail against the floor. "She's a strong Druid!"

  "She's strong in both," the Goddess nodded. "But she's not too much stronger than you now. You could easily handle her, because of your experience."

  "I could do that before."

  "No, you could have handled her before, but only with great difficulty and considerable risk. You never faced her when she used her full power against you, kitten. Even you are going to be very surprised when you finally see it. Now it will be much easier for you to contain her if it's needful."

  Tarrin nodded grimly. That was something he'd long worried about, but it was a worry for another day.

  "Am I going to lose all this memory?"

  "Some," she nodded. "The memory of your lifetime will fade over time until your memory will be as it was before, but the memories you gained from the Weave are branded into you. You couldn't forget them if you tried."

  "I wouldn't want to. Is this what Jenna learned from Spyder?"

  "Most of it," she answered. "You learned considerably more than Jenna did, mostly things pertaining to Sorcery itself."

  "I noticed that. I can do almost any spell any Sorcerer has ever used," he said without any boasting in his voice.

  "Jenna is the repository of the order's history and culture. You are now the repository of its magical lore. I want you to teach Jenna absolutely every spell you know that she doesn't, Tarrin," she said, using his name to drive her order home. "I want it done by tomorrow night."

  "It will be done, Mother," he said solemny.

  She took a hand off his paw and reached over, touching his cheek. He closed his eyes and submitted to that touch, leaning his face against her hand. "I have missed you so much, my kitten," she said lovingly. "I stayed away from you while you were human because I didn't want to interfere. I know how you felt, and I knew my involvement would only overwhelm you. That Tarrin wasn't prepared to handle someone like me."

  "I think it would have," he agreed. "I don't think that other me could have managed to be very rational when he realized just who he was talking to." He opened his eyes and looked at her. "You said you wouldn't let anyone interfere with my choice," he told her, his voice just reaching the edges of accusation.

  "I said I'd be extremely cross with them if they did," she said. "I never said I'd directly intefere."

  "I hate it when you have an answer for everything," he growled.

  "I wouldn't be much of a god if I didn't," she teased with a bright smile. "Don't worry, kitten. I am rather cross with the culprit. The extent of my irritation will become apparent to the offending party very soon."

  "Then maybe the wrathful bolts of lightning will guide me in the right direction," he mused.

  She laughed lightly, a cascade of choral bells, and patted him on the cheek. "I see you're back to your old self," she winked.

  "Would you have expected anything less, Mother?"

  She grinned. "No, probably not," she admitted. "So, what are you going to do now? There are several people who are very anxious to see you."

  "I can imagine," he grunted. "I guess I'll let Triana know I'm alright. I'm not sure I want to see anyone else at the moment."

  "Don't be nasty, kitten," she said. "Jesmind and Kimmie are both very worried about you. They love you."

  "I know they do, Mother, and I love them," he said in an annoyed voice, "but sometimes love isn't enough. Jesmind was inexcusable in the way she acted, and I'll bet Kimmie would have been the same way if she hadn't been so busy helping Phandebrass with the potion." He did feel a sudden twang. "I hope all that work wasn't hard on the baby," he said in concern.

  "The baby is fine," she said. "Kimmie knows her limits. She's also getting noticably thick around the middle. She'll pop in a couple of months."

  "So soon?" he said with a sigh. "And I missed so much already. I guess I'm going to miss the baby's birth, too."

  "I'm just asking you not to be like them," she said. "You know what I mean."

  He sighed. Of course he knew what she meant. To be unforgiving and hold a grudge. "I'll probably settle down once my temper cools off, but it's still too new," he told her, flexing his fingers in an ominous manner. "I intend to remind Jesmind just where she stands," he warned.

  "That's all I can ask for, kitten," she smiled gently. "Now, I've held you here long enough," she announced, standing up. "You have a few things to do, and so do I. Oh, kitten, I think an old friend is waiting to hear from you. You should let her know what's going on...and that you might need her."

  Tarrin looked at her. The only old friend that wasn't here now, and one that was that much of an asset, was Sarraya. "Is it safe for her to come back?"

  "She's been in her colony a good couple of months," she nodded. "That's enough time for her to rest and recover. She's good for as long as you may need her."

  "I'll have Triana contact her," he assured. "Knowing Sarraya, she'll be here before Triana says goodbye."

  "Not that soon. Triana's going to have to go get her, but she can be here before you leave in three days' time."

  That was as obvious as a hint as the Goddess ever gave. Whatever Tarrin did and wherever he went, the Goddess wanted Sarraya to be with him. He actually looked forward to it...it would be like old times. And he missed his Faerie companion more than he was willing to admit. Her obnoxious manner and her irreverent, combative personality was actually rather entertaining from time to time.

  "One other thing," she said, finally letting go of his paw. "I want you to reign in Sapphire."

  "What's the matter with her?"

  "She's been stalking around the Tower looking for who did this to you, and she fully intends to kill the offender when the tracks the party down. I don't think that would be a very good idea, and she's being very disruptive in her search. You're the only person in the Tower that can talk to her when she's like this, kitten. Everyone else is nothing but a biped to her, but you are clan. That gives you a voice she won't ignore."

  "I'll pull her leash," he said. "She won't like it, but then again, neither will I."

  "Carefully, kitten. She loves you, but she is a dragon."

  "I understand the danger. She can't be much harder to manage than Jesmind or Triana."

  The Goddess laughed. "Yes she is, but I'll leave that fun little surprise untouched," she winked. "Now then, I have to go. Don't be a stranger, kitten."

  "I won't, Mother," he promised, stepping away from her and bowing his head. She reached out and touched his cheek one more time, and then she stepped back and vanished like smoke.

  His obedient demeanor evaporated as fast as she did. He would be respectful and compliant to the Goddess, but not to anyone else. That ancient Were-cat drive was just as primal in him as it was in everyone else. He was the king of the hill, the biggest child in the sandbox, and he knew it. Only Sapphire could challenge him, and he knew that she would not. He would not cow under to the others, and it was about time to re-establish some of the dominancy that certain others seemed to have forgotten was his during his convalescence.

  Clenching a fist tightly enough to crack all the knuckles, he looked to the door. He did have alot to do today. Calm Sapphire down, have Triana go get Sarraya and bring her back, punish Jesmind for her behavior, and start teaching Jenna the spells he'd gained through the ordeal. That he'd let
everyone know that he was well never really crossed his mind. After all, they'd find out once he was out and about. He was sure that as soon as he stepped out that door, they would find him. They'd have to move pretty quickly, but they would eventually track him down.

  First things first, however. The top of the list was Jenna, to let her know he was well and to have her show him where they'd stored his blood. He also wanted to let his sisters and friends know he was alright, and when he was calmer, he'd go see Triana and the other females. And he also needed to calm Sapphire down. He'd ensure that she let him take care of it. The punishment laid down for what was done to him would come from him, not from her. After all, as the injured party, it was his every right to control what happened to the guilty party.

  Standing fully erect, his tail slashing behind him a few times before calming down, he looked to the door. It was an old life, the life he'd once had, but he had to admit, there was a strange kind of newness to it now. Not everyone had a chance to relive the comforting times of youth, to see the world as a place both strange and exciting, to feel the kind of trust that only someone that naive could feel. Those were gone now, but the sense of them was still inside, only tempered by the history that made him so careful. It was an old life, old customs, old ways, an old duty, but the time as a human had cast them in a new light. Things did seem curiously fresh, curiously new, as if stepping out that door would most certainly be just like the same old Tarrin.

  Reaching out and taking hold of the doorknob, feeling how small and fragile it seemed to him now, he turned it and opened the door.

  He wasn't entirely surprised to see Jenna running, all dignity cast aside, down the passageway towards his door. Obviously someone had told her that he'd woke up, and now she was coming to see him. Her run didn't falter when she saw him, but she did call out his name breathlessly as the two Knights guarding his door stepped aside respectfully for him. He lowered down as she approached and let her literally jump into his arms, wrapping his around her as she called his name over and over again with a mixture of joy, relief, and worry, hugging him tightly. He felt how tiny she was now, how fragile and delicate, and he hugged her with the practiced exquisite care he had come to learn when adjusting to his Were nature the first time.