Tower of Sorcery

by Fel

  Tarrin laughed. "What more could a girl ask for?" he chuckled. "The royal seal and being able to forge the king's name? That's like being able to make your own decrees."

  "It has been unbelievably useful," she said modestly. "I pestered my father for such important lessons such as juggling and tumbling when I was younger. They were good fronts for learning how to control my hands, and sneaking about without making alot of noise. And I can still juggle," she winked.

  "Have you been taught to defend yourself?" Allia asked curiously.

  Keritanima laughed. "I'm a princess, Allia," she said. "I'm not expected to be able to protect myself."

  "Which means that you can," Tarrin reasoned with a sly look.

  Keritanima reached under the hem of her dress modestly, then produced an eight finger long poinard, a thin bladed, needle-pointed dagger. Then she dipped a pair of fingers into the bodice of her dress and showed them a small, thin-bladed throwing dagger. "I keep another one as a hair barette," she told them with a smile. "Ulfan showed me how to use these. They're small and easy to hide in my royal dresses, and he didn't fancy me being alone and unable to fend for myself."

  "Well, you need more than that," Allia said bluntly. "No friend of mine goes without being able to fight. I will teach you how to protect yourself the right way."

  Keritanima gave her a curious look. "Truly?" she said. "I'm not much of a warrior, Allia."

  "Tarrin?" Allia prompted.

  Tarrin speculated a moment. He'd seen Keritanima move. She was graceful and well coordinated. She wasn't very strong, but that was beside the point. There were many ways one could fight without muscle. "We could do it," he said. "She has good hands, she's fast, and from the way she moves, she's pretty agile."

  "Not all fighting is strength, shaida," Allia told her. "I fear that you will never be Selani, but you could easily learn some basic techniques for close-quarters fighting. I can teach you how to use an opponent's strength against him."

  "Now that sounds fun," she laughed. "I hate to say it, but I can't stay any longer," she said, getting up. "I'll talk to you later."

  As she slipped out of the opening, Tarrin leaned back. In a way, he understood what all that was about. It was nothing more than a social call. Here, so far away from what was comfortable for her, she felt more vulnerable, and that made her very insecure. She just needed someone to talk with. Really talk with. Even if it was for only a few moments.

  "I see that she's starting to feel closed in," Allia remarked.

  "You can't really blame her, sister," Tarrin replied. "All alone with nobody to talk to, when everyone hates you? I'd be looking for companionship myself."

  "We'd best wander back, before they start looking," she said.

  Tarrin nodded. "I'll see you back in the rooms," he said, standing up. Then he changed shape and slunk out a small hole in the hedge.

  To: Title EoF

  Chapter 12

  Sweating with effort, Tarrin sat straight up in the chair, his tail lashing behind him. His eyes were closed, and he struggled to reach out and grab nothing.

  That was about the best explanation he could come up with. He could feel it out there, just begging to be touched, but it slipped out of his grasp like smoke. It was maddening, but Dolanna did very little by way of suggestion or instruction. She told him that each Sorcerer touched the weave in a different way, and he had to learn it on his own. She also told him that all it took was one successful attempt. Conscious attempt, that is, for he'd already used Sorcery before. Now, his conscious mind was struggling to learn the trick that his subconscious one had already picked up. She would give him very basic help, but there was nothing more she could do.

  "Relax, Tarrin," her voice soothed. "You cannot yank at it. You must reach, but you must also bring it to you at the same time. You are trying to reach out and grab it."

  "That's what you told me to do," he protested.

  "I said to reach out for what is there," she elaborated. "Part of the trick is drawing it in, the other part is reaching out to meet it. Once you make the connection, you will be able to charge."

  Blowing out his breath, he tried again. He reached out with himself, something that he was used to doing with his senses. Now he was doing it with that something, that thing inside him that made him a Sorcerer. He could feel it within him, reaching out to complete the circuit that would make him a part of the Weave. But it couldn't find anything to connect with.

  "Gently," Dolanna urged. "Gently. Do not force it. It is not something to seize, it is something to greet."

  Closing his eyes again, he tried to visualize the strands in the room, from what he remembered of the day before. Then he reached out to them, the way flowers reach out to the rising sun, trying to draw in its warmth. He could feel them around him, but they would not respond to his call. He physically reached out with a paw, claws extending, as if to hook the elusive magical energy, but there was nothing upon which for his claws to gain a purchase.

  He had been doing this for three straight days. Despite doing nothing physical, he left the training room drained, and could think of nothing but sleep. Allia and Keritanima had been much the same. It wouldn't have been so bad if he'd actually managed to accomplish something. But for three days, he'd done nothing but flounder around aimlessly, reaching out in vain for something that simply was not there.

  Blowing out his breath in frustration, he opened his eyes and stood up. His tail hooked on the back of the chair, picking it up. "Tarrin," Dolanna said calmly, putting her hands on his arms. "Relax."

  "It's frustrating!" he growled in exasperation.

  "It took me almost a month," she told him. "You have plenty of time. Now sit back down."

  Growling in his throat, Tarrin righted the chair and sat back down. He closed his eyes and started all over again, reaching out. And he failed, over and over, as minutes stretched into an hour. Dolanna put her hands over his paws gently as his claws dug deeply into the table, and he relaxed. "I must seem silly," he said, but the frustration was evident in his voice.

  "I would go back to my room and throw chairs," she confided with a smile. "I went through ten desk chairs over that month. It is not easy, Tarrin. Even after you succeed, you will struggle, both to touch the Weave, and then to let it go. But as most things, it requires practice. Even though you fail, you are learning. Eventually, your trial will not result in error, and you will succeed. Do not dwell on your failures, look towards your success."

  "You're so optomistic it makes me sick," he said with a smile.

  "That is my job," she said with a gentle smile, patting the backs of his paws. "Now, let us start again, from the beginning. Breathe deeply and calm yourself."

  Tarrin left that day drained, tired, out of sorts, and aggravated. He had failed again. Tarrin was not used to failing. Not like that. His parents had always taught him that failure was not bad so long as one tried one's hardest. Tarrin was trying his hardest, but when he did do his best, he almost never failed so utterly has he had done so for the past four days. It seemed unnatural to him to fail so miserably, even after he'd put so much effort and dedication into his task. He stalked back to the main Tower to get something to eat and fret over his failure to produce results, and he could feel the weight of the sand pouring from the hourglass, and right over his head. He had to learn how to touch the Weave. He had to learn how to use Sorcery. He didn't have a choice. He needed to protect himself against whoever was trying to kill him. And, if his hunches were right, he'd need it to protect him from the katzh-dashi.

  That was one good reason. Allia and Keritanima couldn't see it, but he could. The faint glow of the Ward that blocked magic from passing through it, and also worked to seal him inside the Tower grounds. It was as good as the bars on his cage. Tarrin had a hatred and irrational fear of being imprisoned--it was integral in his nature as a Were-cat--and just looking at the Ward caused the Cat to rise up in him and try to take control. The other good reason was slinking around the Tower grou
nds like a rat. Jesmind was inside the Tower grounds. She was trapped inside with him, and he knew that she had more plans for trying to take off his head. She would play all light and sunshine as long as the Keeper or Sorcerers were around, but he knew that she was just biding her time. She was still trying to kill him, and she wasn't about to stop now.

  After a quick meal, he went out and sat in the garden for a while. The smell of flowers and growing things always soothed him, and the relative isolation let him forget for a while that he was trapped on the grounds. Tarrin was a creature of the forest. He couldn't deny that. He was born and raised in one, and his transformation into a Were-cat had only intensified his attachment to the woods. The gardens were no forest, but the green and the lighter human scents made it possible for him to imagine it. If only for a little while.

  "You're getting soft."

  Tarrin was up and whirled around in a flash, claws out and his eyes locked on the green eyes of Jesmind. She was standing not a paw's reach from him, paws behind her back, her stance and demeanor obviously nonthreatening. She had approached from downwind, which was why he hadn't scented her, and she was light enough on her feet to walk the crushed gravel path without making any noise.

  "What do you want?" he demanded.

  "To talk," she said mildly. He continued to glare at her, and she blew out her breath in exasperation. "By the moons, cub, if I wanted to fight, do you think I would have given myself away?"

  "Don't call me that," he said, sheathing his claws.

  "It's what you are," she said. "Sit down."

  "I don't have--"

  "I said sit!" she commanded in an imperious tone. Tarrin found himself obeying it before he even thought about what he was doing. "That's better," she said in a calm tone, sitting down on the stone bench beside him. Her scent was carefully neutral. She was keeping herself tightly under control, he could tell. She wasn't about to give anything away. "Now then, we have to talk."

  "About what?" he asked gruffly.

  "Put away the attitude, cub," she said frostily. "I see no reason why you can't be civil."

  "Maybe because you're trying to kill me?"

  "Let's not quibble over details," she said quickly. "I'm, leaving, Tarrin," she said quietly. "So consider yourself free. At least for now."

  "What's wrong?"

  "Do you really care?" she asked sharply. "I have to return to my den. I don't have any choice. But the offer stands still, my cub. Come with me, and we won't have any trouble."

  "You know I can't do that," he said bluntly. "I'm even more dangerous to you now than I was a month ago. If the Sorcerers don't teach me how to control my power, I'll end up killing both of us by accident. I won't put you in that kind of risk." He glanced at her. "It's not that I don't want to," he added. "But this is something that I have to do."

  "Why?" she demanded suddenly. "My mother is a Druid, Tarrin. She can teach you about magic."

  "She could teach me about Druidic magic, but not Sorcery," he replied calmly. "It's oil and water, Jesmind. It won't do me any good."

  "You!" she flared. "You you you! What about me? Do you have any idea how much I hate having to do what I do? I like you, Tarrin. A lot. But you make me--"

  "Make you what?" he countered. "Where did you ever say that things had to be now? I told you once before that if you would just wait, I'd be happy to go with you. This isn't about me, woman! This is about making sure I don't accidentally barbecue the both of us one day!"

  "You have no idea what you're talking about!" she snapped. "My mother can control your power until you learn how to control it yourself! I know you need training, but my mother can help you! You don't have to be here!"

  "There, you see?" he said, standing up. "You never told me that before."

  "That's because you never gave me a chance!" she challenged, standing to face him. "If you were such a pig-faced stubborn mule-headed lump of dirt, you'd have given me a chance!"

  "You never listened! You didn't care about what I needed, just what you wanted!"

  "What I wanted? I did what I had to do! If you would have gone mad, it would have destroyed the reputation of our kind! We have laws, Tarrin! I was doing what I had to do!"

  "You knew I was a Sorcerer, woman! You should have laid it out at the beginning! But no, you had to play your little game--"

  "And you lied to me!" she said in sudden fury. "I still want to wring your little neck for that!"

  "You can try any time you feel like it," he hissed, his eyes narrowing.

  "Don't tempt me, boy," she snapped. "You may be bigger than me, but you know I can kick your tail all over this garden."

  With an animal growl in his throat, he hunkered down into his slouch-like stalking stance, claws out and paws wide. "Bring it on," he said in a low hiss.

  Jesmind's eyes flared from within with that unholy greenish radiance, and her claws slid out of their sheaths. "Don't push me, cub," she growled. "I'll kill you right here and now."

  "Children," Keritanima's calm voice called from right beside them. The little fox Wikuni stepped slowly and ever-so-calmly between them, and she put one hand on Tarrin's chest and the other hand on Jesmind's shoulder. "This is no place to play. If you want to kill each other, go out onto the training field. I don't want your blood sprayed all over the flowers." She gave Tarrin a look, a look of such calm confidence, her amber eyes so clear and penetrating, that it made him blink. She turned that level gaze on Jesmind, and the Were-cat female gave the small, slight, slender little Wikuni a startled look. Keritanima wasn't that large, but she was a princess, and she knew how to exert her authority. She used that authority like a club, beating both Were-cats over the head with it until they obeyed her. "Now then, can the two of you ever talk to each other without using death threats?" she continued in that same calm, level voice that all but vibrated with power.

  "She started it," Tarrin said lamely.

  Keritanima grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and jerked him down to her level. "If you get yourself killed because you don't know how to keep your claws in their sheaths, I'll never forgive you," she hissed at him. "Now you will stop acting like a barkat with its tail cut off." Jesmind laughed, but the little Wikuni grabbed her shirt and yanked her down too. "And you will learn that not everyone obeys your every wish and whim," she told her in a low voice. "If you want to talk to him, you will do it politely, and you will respect Tarrin's decisions. Do I make myself abundantly clear?"

  "Who are you, little doormouse?" Jesmind asked in obvious shock. "Do you have any idea how close you are to dying?"

  "Death is feared by the weak," Keritanima said in a voice that made Jesmind gape. "Do you fear death, Were-cat?"

  Jesmind had no answer to that.

  "That's what I thought," she said, letting the Were-cats go. "Now, if you're going to talk, talk. But you're not going to fight. The first one that starts provoking the other will answer to me."

  And then she walked away, leaving both Were-cats to stare at her in total shock. They stared at where she walked around a hedge for several moments, then Jesmind laughed ruefully. "I think we were just spanked," she said. "Who is that little mouse? She acts like my mother."

  "That is a friend of mine," Tarrin said dubiously. He'd never been, manhandled like that before. He didn't quite know how to take it. A little slip of a girl that he could put over his knee and spank had just done the very same thing to him. Figuratively speaking, of course. Part of Tarrin objected violently to that thought, but the Cat had instantly recognized the raw power which the Wikuni princess was bringing to bear against them, and had instantly submitted to her.

  "I guess we could try again. Just without bloodshed this time. The trees only know, I'd rather not find out what she'll do to us if we misbehave." She reached out and put a paw on Tarrin's shoulder. He recoiled from that touch immediately, which surprised her. "What's the matter?" she asked in confusion.

  "Just don't touch me," he said defensively.

  She gave him a curiou
s look, then reached out again. He flinched away before she could reach him, but then she struck like a viper, grabbing him by the shoulder. She grabbed his other shoulder and made him look into her eyes, and when he met her gaze, her eyes widened in surprise. "Look at me," she ordered when he looked away. He met her gaze unwillingly, his eyes betraying his fear.

  "I'm not going to hurt you, my cub," she said soothingly. "But I can see, you've been hurt. Hurt too much for someone so young. You're almost feral. No wonder you seem so violent. I thought it was the Cat doing it to you, but it's not, is it?" She didn't wait for an answer. "You trust the Selani, don't you? And the little mouse?"

  "What are you doing?"

  "I'm deciding what to do about you," she said seriously. "Now answer the question. You trust the Selani and the mouse, don't you?"

  "Y-yes," he admitted.

  "Good. You need someone that you can trust. Talk to them, cub. Always tell them how you're feeling. It will help you cope with what you are. Now, tell me why you're walking on a razor's edge."

  He looked around. "Not here," he said. "Let's walk for a while."

  She nodded, and they started walking down the path. Tarrin switched to the unspoken manner of the Cat, a language that any eavesdroppers would have trouble understanding. "Something is going on here," he told her. "I'm not sure exactly what yet, but I think the Sorcerers want something from us."

  "This is why I didn't want you coming here," she said with a sigh. "I don't trust these people. Not one bit. I was more than willing to beat you into submission, and take you home where mother could help train you."

  "Me and my other two nonhuman friends are working together," he told her. "We're trying to find out exactly why the Tower wants us so badly."

  "Do you have any idea yet?"

  "No, but we've just started. The little mouse, Keritanima, she's a princess. She knows all about playing politics and intrigue, so we're waiting for her to get herself situated, and she's going to get us going. Me and Allia really don't know all that much about that kind of thing."