Tarrin Kael Firestaff Collection Book 3 - Honor and Blood by Fel ©

by James Galloway (aka Fel)

  Now he just had to get Sarraya's attention.

  "Sarraya!" Tarrin boomed towards the rift, holding his paws up to his mouth to direct the sound. "Sarraya, I'm ready to go!"

  He waited a few moments, but she didn't reply or appear.

  The rift was only a short distance away. He started off in that direction, but before he got more than a few hundred paces towards it, Sarraya's tiny form appeared in the shimmering heat and haze from the sun and smoke of the rift. Her blue skin was smudged with black here and there, and her gossamer clothing was a bit singed and blackened in places. She came up to hover in front of him, a smile on her face. "You look fresh," she noted. "I take it we're leaving?"

  "I'm ready to go. You have fun?"

  "Yes, I consider a stroll through a volcanic wasteland to be so enjoyable," she said in a sarcastic tone. "But I did learn a few things."

  "Like what?"

  "Well, like lava can't melt other rocks immediately. It needs time. And that some kinds of rock won't melt. I tossed some sandstone into the lava, and it exploded."

  "Exploded?"

  "Yes, it was pretty neat. Maybe the sand that makes up the rock will melt, but the rock itself won't."

  "Sand melts into glass."

  "I know that, but the lava is too hot. It makes it do something else."

  "Explode, from the sound of it."

  "I'd guess so," she said.

  "So, to put it in a nutshell, you were over there playing with the lava."

  "Sometimes play can be educational," she said primly.

  "Yes. I'm sure it can."

  She slapped him on the shoulder. "Let's go already!"

  Tarrin stood up to his full height and stared off towards the northwest, the way he intended to go. It was shimmering in the day's heat, but he could make out a large expanse of flat rocky waste, but there were rock spires and some irregular terrain on the horizon. With any luck, they'd come out of this barren expanse and get into the scrubby plains that Allia had described so often, plains where a surprising number of plants grew in the desert. Enough to support minimal herding. When he reached those plains, he would reach the Selani. He wasn't looking forward to meeting the Selani, but he was getting tired of looking at sand and rock. It would be nice to see some more of the desert.

  Northwest. The way he was going. He had a great deal to learn, a great deal to do, and he'd learn it and do it while he was over that way. Quite a lot to look forward to. It wouldn't be easy, but then again, anything easy wasn't worth the effort. Part of him was dreading what was before him, but another part of him was looking forward to the challenge, looking forward to the experience. It would be a long, hard road, but the rewards he would find at the end of it would more than make it worth his while.

  "Let's go," he mirrored her, and then he started off towards the northwest at a ground-eating pace that few could match for very long.

  As much as he was ready to move on, the weather wouldn't cooperate. Tarrin and Sarraya were driven into a large cave before sunset by a small yet powerful sandstorm, and they'd had to retreat deeply into the cave to avoid the scouring wind. The sandstorm gave them time to eat supper and rest a while, and to talk. Tarrin related everything that had happened to him before he woke up, about his conversation with the Goddess, and he also told her about the dreams he'd had. He made sure to explain as much as he could about both the conversation and the dreams, and when he was done, he sat back and allowed the Faerie to think it over. Sarraya was a bit erratic and a little flaky, but she was exceptionally intelligent. She was alot like Phandebrass, easily misunderstood because of her unusual outward personality. He'd come to discover that Sarraya was both smart and keen, able to see to the heart of things very quickly. He could rely on her in that manner.

  "Alright, so, whatever changed you altered your ability to touch the Weave," she said in a clinical voice, sitting on his knee and looking up at him. "Have you tried yet?"

  He nodded. "Nothing. It's like it's not there. And it's really annoying, because I know it's there. I just can't find it."

  "Sounds like most of this is going to be getting over your frustration," she said with a little grunt. "Knowing how you handle frustration, I think I'll keep my distance from you while you're trying."

  "That may be a good idea," he agreed seriously. "I know it can be done, because that Sha'Kar woman was using High Sorcery. She also used Sorcery in some ways I can't even describe. I think those were Weavespinner ways."

  "Try."

  He groped for an explanation. "She didn't use Sorcery," he said helplessly. "It was like the magic was just there. She didn't draw it or weave it or do anything you have to do to use Sorcery."

  "Well, your Goddess told you that there's more than one way to use Sorcery," Sarraya said. "This must be some sort of direct use. A way to use it that doesn't require any preparation or formulation. Almost like Druidic magic, if you think about it."

  "How do you mean?"

  "She just wanted it to happen, and it did," she explained. "That's the core of Druidic magic, if you recall. But this was much faster, and if you didn't feel anything from her, then it either doesn't take effort, or you weren't sensitive enough to feel what she did. Either would explain it."

  "It has to take some effort, so I'd say that I couldn't feel what she did," he said with a little sigh. "That, or she did it so fast I couldn't make it out. She was an Ancient, Sarraya. She must be so good at magic that I couldn't even begin to keep track of her."

  "Could you keep track of everything else she did?"

  "Some of it," he replied. "She could weave spells so fast, I barely realized that she was releasing them before they were coming at me. She didn't use alot of power when we fought, she just out-wove me. She taught me a few things about Sorcery, that's for sure," he said with respect in his voice.

  "Like what?"

  "How to not only disrupt weaving, but to turn it against the weaver," he answered. "She attacked one of my weaves while I was weaving it, and caused it to collapse into an entirely different spell just by introducing a few stray flows into it. Then it blew up in my face."

  "You didn't release it?"

  "When she attacked it, she gained control over it. She was the one that released it, not me."

  "So, you learned something already. You think you could incite another Sorcerer's spell into releasing before it's finished?"

  "I think I could," he said after a moment of reflection. "Flows are flows. What they do depends on who controls them. I'm strong enough to wrest control from someone else. At least I would be if I could touch the Weave," he added in a growling voice.

  "Well then, I'd say that the encounter did more good for you than we first thought," Sarraya told him with a smile.

  "I hope so," he said absently, turning an ear to the wind. It was still howling outside.

  "I don't think you should start right now," Sarraya told him. "Take a couple of days first. Think about everything, rest a while. You're not quite ready to take on something like this yet."

  "I know, but I do know that I can't waste too much time."

  "Why?"

  "You told me that the Sha'Kar said that my time was running out," he replied. "I'm on a tight schedule here, it seems. So tight that the Goddess had to send the Sha'Kar to move me along. I'll wait a day, but that's all. Tomorrow night, I'm going to start trying to find my power again."

  "I hate to say it, but you're right. I hate working on someone's strings," Sarraya grunted.

  "We've been doing this since the start, Sarraya," he told her. "Sometimes, I think that I was born with those strings on me."

  "Maybe. But look at it this way. At least you're having a very interesting life."

  He looked at her, then laughed in spite of himself. "Want to trade?"

  "Ah, no. I doubt I'd enjoy going through life as a boy."

  "What difference does it make?"

  "All the difference in the world," she replied. "Bodies are bodies, but souls are the true ge
nder. If I were trapped in a man's body, I think I'd have a very hard time functioning in human society."

  "You do already."

  "I'm not human, am I?"

  "Neither am I. At least not anymore."

  "Would you want to go back?"

  "I don't think about that, Sarraya," he said seriously. "I never think about what could have been. I can't change the past, so it's better if I don't dwell on things I can't change. This is the way it is, and that's life. I can't be changed back without dying in the process, so I'm stuck this way."

  "Just for argument's sake, let's say you could. Would you want to?"

  He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the stone behind him. When he closed his eyes, the eyeless face appeared in his mind, casting salt into his raw wounds yet again. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I've been this way for so long, I can't even imagine being another way. But--I just don't know, Sarraya."

  "Tarrin...what do you think you'll do when this is all over?" she asked hesitantly.

  "I haven't thought about it," he told her. "To be honest, I don't expect to live through this. And maybe that's for the best."

  "Why say something like that?"

  "I have something to focus on now. When this is over, I'll have nothing left in my life. Kerri will go back to Wikuna, and Allia will go back to the desert. I could visit, but I wouldn't be welcome in either place. I know that already. I'd have no purpose, no goal. And without something in my life, my ferality will take over. I'll end up like Mist, living in complete fear. I think I'd rather die than face that." He sighed. "I'm a Weavespinner, Sarraya. I know how powerful I am. Do you want someone like me out there, with all this power, and no constraints about using it?"

  "Well...no."

  "I've done enough damage already. I'm tired of destroying things, of killing people. The best thing that could happen out of all this is I end up getting killed when it's over."

  "Well, I think that that's a defeatist attitude," she said sternly. "Triana would slap you for saying such things."

  "Triana would understand," he told her. "She wouldn't like it, but she'd understand."

  "Well, I don't understand, and I won't allow it. I absolutely forbid you to die."

  Tarrin looked down at her, then chuckled. "And who made you queen of the universe, little dolly?"

  "I did," she said flippantly. "And as queen of the universe, you can't disobey me. If you die on me, I'll kill you."

  Tarrin laughed. "Yes, Your Majesty," he said in mock supplication.

  "Now let's get some sleep," Sarraya said. "We have a long way to go."

  "Isn't that the truth," Tarrin agreed in a distant tone. "A very long way to go."

  The last rays of the sun peered over the twin mountains known as the Earth's Breast, shining their last on the grim stone fortress built at the top of a sheer mountain. It was known as Castle Keening, a name granted to it because of the fierce mountain winds that howled through the battlements at all hours of the day and night. Its builders designed it to guard the wide mountain pass which it overlooked, a protection from raiding Goblinoid tribes that would attack mining caravans that extracted the precious metals, iron, and lead that were abundant in the range that surrounded the triple lakes known as Petal Lakes. But as the Dals pushed the Goblinoids more and more out of the mountains to the south, the need for the grim fortress waned. It was left abandoned, fell into disrepair, after its service was no longer required. The memory of it faded as the deposits of metals were mined out in the southern reaches of the Petal Lakes region, as the miners moved to the north to exploit the mineral wealth that remained. The wide pass below was dotted with abandoned villages and solitary inns, respites from hard mountain travel for the miners and the merchants that came to buy their ores, and the wagoneers that transported it.

  Now, the pass was filled with a thousand bonfires. The fires were those of Goblinoids, returned to their ancestral territory, returned for a terrible purpose. They stood in the shadow of the massive citadel on the mountaintop, a citadel that looked down on them with dark vision and inspired fear in them. Not because of the old fortress of grim stone, but of those who were within.

  It was known as Castle Keening, but now the keening was rumored to be from the agonized screams of the many who had met their end within its walls. It was a major stronghold of the ki'zadun, a powerful network of mages, priests, spies, and dark entities whose main objective was nothing short of world domination. It was an organization that sought only to increase its own power, in any way possible. They had agents and operatives in nearly every major kingdom or duchy, and their fingers were spread across the world. Be it economical, political, or even militaristic, very little happened that the ki'zadun did not know about, or have a hand in. From the plains of Valkar to the streets of Wikuna, from Dusgaard to Pyrosia, from Suld to Shu Tung, the ki'zadun poisoned the entire world with their dark purpose.

  Their nearest neighbors, Draconia and Daltochan, knew about Castle Keening, knew about who inhabited it, but that was of no importance. The ki'zadun now controlled both kingdoms, and it was their hand that guided the war with Sulasia, a war that was progressing on schedule. They had crippled Sulasia, and now their Draconian operatives had managed to incite war between Tykarthia and Ungardt, eliminating the greatest threats to them. Now they could amass their true armies without fear of retaliation, without fear of a pre-emptive assault. The dangerous Ungardt were now slaughtering Tykarthians, and the efficient armies of Sulasia were pinned back by the ears, trying to stop an invasion of Daltochan's armies and their Goblinoid allies. And what was most important, the Sorcerers of the katzh-dashi were sitting in Suld, unwilling to aid the Sulasian armies until Suld itself became threatened. The Dal threat kept them there, kept their members from travelling and seeking out the truth of the invasion, and their Goddess refused to grant them divine knowledge.

  They would not understand until it was too late.

  Kravon stood at the balcony of Castle Keening, staring down at the fires below, finding himself very pleased by the progression of events. Despite their setbacks with the Were-cat, everything else was moving smoothly. But, any good plan was bound to have a snag or two during its execution. So on the whole, he was content with the performance of his sycophants. He pulled his old cloak about him a bit as the wind took a raw quality, as the beginnings of winter had begun to show in the air. Winter came early in the high mountains, and it lingered long after the lower elevations had spring blossoms budding in the fields.

  Yes, everything was running smoothly, except for one little snag.

  He felt an oppressive weight behind his eyes, and then something that could only be described as ultimate cold settled into his soul. This is not the time to dawdle, minion, a disembodied voice drifted into the dark tunnels of Kravon's mind. You have not carried out my instructions.

  "They will be done this night, my Master," Kravon replied aloud, replied in a very respectful tone. "Everything we require for your plan is now available to us. We will lay the enchantment as soon as the sun fades."

  This must be done correctly, the voice said in a stern manner. Too much rides on this. The Were-cat has unlocked his true power, and for now, he is vulnerable.

  "Pardon my ignorance, Master, but why is he vulnerable?"

  He has lost his connection to his power, the voice responded. He must find it again before he can use his magic. Until he does, he is vulnerable. And it is in this window of opportunity that you must strike. Without his magic, he cannot defeat Jegojah.

  "The desert Goddess may interfere. Do you wish us to send additional forces to ensure it doesn't happen?"

  She will not. The Were-cat has not earned her respect, and until then, she will not protect him. Send only what I have commanded you to send.

  "I understand, my Master. It will be done as you command."

  Do not fail me in this, Kravon. And do not waste valuable assets in the future. Releasing Jula was a mistake. She is now in the hands of our enemy,
and she can hurt us.

  "I'm aware of that, my Master. I have already sent people to rectify the situation. Let me say in my own defense that it was a good plan at the time. None of us foresaw that the Were-cat could cure Jula of her madness. We all thought it impossible."

  You are dealing with the Mi'Shara. You must expect the impossible. Do not bungle again. I can replace you as easily as you replace your minions. Do not forget that.

  "I never forget that, my Master," he said in a low voice. "The sun is now set. I will see to your instructions immediately. Do you require anything else of me?"

  Not now. Perform your tasks as I have given them.

  "At once, my Master."

  And with that, the tenuous connection dissolved, leaving Kravon chilled to his soul. Telepathic communion with the Master always left Kravon shaken and pale, and he leaned on the bannister of the balcony for support until warmth and energy returned to his limbs. The Master had given him a task to perform, a plan to carry out, and Kravon could appreciate the subtle effectiveness of this plan. If the Were-cat had no connection to his Sorcery, then he was indeed vulnerable. Very vulnerable. His triumphs over Jegojah came because of his magical powers. Without those powers, he would stand no chance against the Doomwalker.

  A good plan. The Master never failed to impress him. It was why he followed the Master.

  Feeling strength return to his body, Kravon pushed himself off the balcony, then turned and marched back into his laboratory without a glance behind. His magical assistants and minions were working diligently on his behalf, preparing the compounds and charms that would be needed for the conjuration that would take place that night. The Conjuring Circle

  had seen much activity lately, since the discovery of ancient spells that allowed the control of conjured Demons and other denizens of the Lower World. Those spells had proven to be potent, and now Castle Keening was guarded and protected by Demonic forces, forces loyal to Kravon and his Master. The messy examples they could set had inspired renewed loyalty and devotion to duty in the castle's occupants. The Demons had been instructed as to who was expendable and who was not, so their continued occasional reminders would keep his people properly motivated. One of them stood by the door, a huge vulture-like Demon called a Vrock, and another, a six-armed female with the lower body of a huge snake called a Marilith, was rifling through the library of magical spells in the library. The Marilith was exceptionally intelligent, and she was willing to share her intellect with Kravon and his master Wizards. She felt herself to be far above the humans she was tutoring, but her obedience to the Master kept her on her task.