Tower of Sorcery

by Fel

  They needed Tarrin, they needed him desperately. Keritanima had shown shocking potential, especially after she had absolutely stunned everyone by leading the quickly created alliance that attacked the Cathedral of Karas to get him back. She was not the spoiled, self-centered, immature brat that everyone thought her to be. Myriam had had the luck of being in Jervis' office, railing at him for his little activities the night before, when the news reached him. His jaw abosolutely dropped from his head. If Keritanima could fool Jervis, then that meant that she had all of Wikuna fooled as well. But where Keritanima showed incredible potential, control, and aptitude, she didn't have his raw power. Tarrin was a Weavespinner. A Weavespinner! That unprecedented power had not been present on the world since the time of the Ancients. If a Weavespinner couldn't challenge the fabled Guardian of the Firestaff and have a chance at victory, then Myriam couldn't think of anything that could. He was their best chance, and now he was out of their hands.

  A dark shadow passed over the light flowing from the large window, closed against the winter chill, and Myriam found the breath to scream when something grabbed her by the back of her nightgown and pulled her out of her chair. The ceiling and floor traded places wildly until she found herself on her back on the floor, a knee on her pelvis and a huge, padded hand holding her by the throat. Two slits of intense green radiance marked the silhouette of a human figure, a figure with the other hand held up and away.

  Not a human. A Were-cat!

  "Tarrin, are you out of your--"

  "Silence!" Tarrin snapped in a voice tight with fury. "I know the truth, Myriam! You did this to me!"

  Myriam Lar, Keeper of the Six Spires, ruler of the katzh-dashi, one of the most powerful people in Sulasia, wet herself at that infuriated proclamation. But then again, few human beings could stare death in the face and not be affected in some way. Tarrin was infuriated, and his Were-cat nature would not allow him to handle that fury in a very gentle or painless manner.

  "You watched me, spied on me, let me go on here and suffer, and you never had the nerve to tell me! I should kill you for this! I want to kill you so bad that I can taste it! You destroyed my life!"

  "What was done was done for the good of everyone," she said in a quavering voice, seeing her own death in those twin slits of unholy green fire. "It was not done without great need, Tarrin. We need you. We need you now more than any person, any kingdom, any civiliation, has needed someone before. And you can't do what you need to do unless you are what you are now. Yes, we changed you," she admitted in a tight voice, tight with terror. "But it was only because we had no other choice."

  Tarrin grabbed at a bulge in her nightgown, then Myriam gasped in pain when he snapped the chain holding her shaeram around her neck. He held that gold amulet in his paw lightly. "I want to kill you so bad I can taste it, but that's not good enough." His paw suddenly exploded in white light, Magelight, and she felt him weave a spell into that amulet. He plunged the amulet down and pressed it against her chest, just under the collarbone on her right side, and she screamed in total, mindless pain. The amulet's gold burned into her skin, charring it, burning through and into muscle, even as the magic behind it burned into her soul.

  When he relented, Myriam curled up into a defensive ball, crying and moaning, feeling the searing pain shudder through her with every beat of her heart. "I did that because there was no other choice," he hissed. "I'll never trust you again, Keeper. Know that. But also know that you have a traitor among you. If not for my need to keep others safe, I would kill you and be done with it. But their lives are in as much danger as yours, and it's all because of that.

  "Jula collared me," he told her as she looked up at him. "She said someone ordered her to do it, someone here in the Tower. And it's a woman. I don't give a damn about you or the Tower, but I do care for those I'm leaving behind, and they're in danger so long as that traitor stays among you. I'm letting you live only because you're the only one that can keep my friends alive, Keeper. And if they die, then so will you."

  "What happened to Jula?"

  "I punished her for taking away my freedom," he said in a cold voice, a voice full of tightly controlled fury. "Just be glad I'm not doing the same to you. I should, but if I kill you, my friends will be in danger, and you'll just be replaced by people who will come after me. Now that you understand the consequences of chasing me down, I'm sure that you'll think twice about it. You have no idea what I'm capable of, Keeper. I'll raze all of Suld to the ground just to kill you. So leave me be, and I'll let you live. And every time you start to forget my warning, just reach up and touch your brand. It won't let you forget."

  He stared down at her, then those slits of ominous radiance blinked. And then he was gone.

  Choking, coughing, stifling a sob, Myriam Lar, Keeper of the katzh-dashi, rolled to her knees, clutching her chest. The brand was throbbing, pulsing with pain, and she could feel its shape. It was a perfect brand of a shaeram. She rose up while supporting herself with her other hand and vomited, reaction to the fear, the shock, and the pain.

  It was survival, but it was also doom. Without Tarrin, the entire world was in danger.

  And there was nothing that she could do about it.

  Entering the courtyard perhaps for the last time, Tarrin stared around the majestic scene, his heart heavy and his soul dimmed. He hated doing things like that, but it there really wasn't a choice. Getting Jula had been absolutely vital. He wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing she was out there, with her collar, waiting for him again. The Keeper too had suffered for her crimes, and even now he regretted not just ending her, or even not being more thorough with the punishment. But to kill like that mortified his human soul, even as the memory of what he had done had begun to return, memories that horrified him so deeply that he couldn't even express it in words. It had shocked him into a strange feeling of disassociation with himself, where what he had done seemed to be someone else, and it drowned out anything he may be feeling other than his anger for those who had wronged him.

  If there was anywhere he would go, it would be the courtyard. The fountain still splashed its melody of nature, and the statue of the Goddess still stood atop it, all stone and water but also beauty and warmth. But he couldn't feel those things, could barely feel anything other than a numbness to his emotions, a blanket laid over his mind that only allowed the fire of his anger to bleed through. The statue's expression was melancholy, as if she could feel his pain, and would join in his suffering. The tent still stood to the side, where he and his sisters and sat and studied night after night, where he had gotten to know Miranda, where he had started to feel that there was hope for them all.

  In a way, now there was. He was not going to stay there. Suld was dead to him now, and he had to leave. They planned to go to the desert, to beg sanctuary from Allia's clan. It was as good a place as any. Tarrin felt a distinct lack of interest in wherever his sisters decided to go. He would be with them, but it no longer mattered to him. Very little did, now that his unfinished business was no longer unfinished.

  Things had come undone. Keritanima's secret was out. She had commanded the host that reclaimed him, and now everyone knew that she was much smarter than she appeared to be. Allia had almost become unhinged by his abduction, and it had taken some serious talking to convince her to let him handle the vengeance. Vengeance was an important business to the Selani. No crime went without a justifiable punishment. The Knights were leaving the grounds, breaking away from the katz-dashi over what they had done to him. The Cathedral had been purged, and it left precious few priests afterward to care for it and the congregation. The entire city was under martial law, as the King sent out his army to reclaim control of the streets after the fighting touched off a riot in the Market Quarter. It was a chaotic mess, but it was something that barely captured his attention. It was as if he had switched himself off, shutting down the parts of himself that felt or reacted to feelings. The only thing that came through that was anger, a towering, seet
hing fury that demanded for those who hurt him to suffer in kind.

  It will pass, my kitten, the voice of the Goddess called to him. Like all things.

  "Goddess," he said in a calm, defensive voice. "You knew."

  I knew, she admitted.

  "Why didn't you tell me!" he shouted suddenly, rushing up to the statue. He fell to his knees by the lip of the fountain's pool, and the water inexplicably stopped pouring from the fountain's upper layer. He thrust his paws out at that statue, manacles on his wrists, showing them to her. "I deserved to know that they did this to me!"

  Yes, you did, she agreed. But why I didn't tell you is exactly why you are here now. Does branding the Keeper change what has happened? Did crippling Jula make your pain any less?

  "She betrayed me!" he screamed.

  And you betray yourself by reducing yourself to her level, she replied sadly. You are a dry branch in a bonfire, my kitten. Your instability makes you dangerous, so I did not tell you. I would not tell you, even if I could have. If only for the sake of those around you.

  There was no way he could refute that. If he had known the truth earlier, he probably would have lashed out and killed the entire Council. And that would have made things very, very messy for him and his sisters.

  Things have come to you of their own volition, kitten, she said in a gentle voice. These were things that I couldn't tell you, because they would have interfered with the choices that you have made. And it is time for you to make them.

  "What are you talking about?" he asked, curiosity overwhelming the anger he was starting to feel against the Goddess.

  You have an understanding of what is going on now, she explained. It is time for you to choose where you are going to stand within it.

  "What do you mean? Is this about that Firestaff thing?"

  Of course it is, my kitten, she replied. Right now, that is the most important thing in the world.

  "What is it, Goddess?"

  The Firestaff is an ancient artifact, kitten, from a time before the Blood War. It was created so long ago that there is nothing left of those who made it, and all history of them has been lost over the ages. It holds the power of creation inside it, an echo of the power that Ayise used when she created the world. If someone were to hold that staff on a certain day, and at a certain time, that power would be imbued upon the holder, and he would become a god. That day comes every five thousand years. And that day is approaching us soon, my kitten. Right now, half of the people on Sennadar are scrambling to find that staff, dreaming of immortality and godhood. But most of them don't realize the terrible price that they'll have to pay, and the damage it will do to the world.

  "What do you mean?"

  Tarrin, that power will exist outside of our rules, and that means that the new god will have no constraints. Ayise will be powerless to stop him, because he will not be one of her children. We will have to rise up and destroy the invader, because his very existence will threaten the Balance. Tarrin, my kitten, such a war would make the Blood War look like a skirmish. It would destroy every nation in the world, and send Sennadar hurtling back into the stone age.

  Tarrin's eyes widened, and he gaped up at the statue.

  Can you imagine what horror that would bring to the world? It's not something that we Gods relish, believe me. But we could avoid all of it, my kitten. If someone trustworthy were to find the Firestaff and keep it away from everyone else, that day could come and go without anything drastic happening. It would be harmless for the next five thousand years, and the world would continue on as it has been.

  "Me," he breathed.

  You, she agreed. The katzh-dashi created you, literally, to find the Firestaff. You represent their best chance to locate it. Myriam Lar intends to lock it away, but as you saw, the Tower is not a secure place. I can't trust my order to take care of it, my kitten. So that leaves me with you.

  It is much to ask of you, Tarrin, she said sadly. All you want is to live in peace. I know it, and it pains me to ask anything more of you. You've suffered enough. And, to be honest, that is something that you can do. You could leave here and return to Aldreth, or go to the forest, and live in peace. But if someone gets the Firestaff and uses it, then your peace won't last. I can't say one way or the other what would happen if you don't do this for me, my kitten. Things could turn out alright, but they also could not. I'm not one to sit around and trust to blind luck.

  I can't trust my own order now. Believe me, Tarrin, I had no idea they managed to infiltrate my Sorcerers so thoroughly. I have you, and you represent everything I always tried to endear in my children. But I also know that I can't force you to do anything. I can only ask you. It's not something I would ask lightly, my sweet child. It will be a dangerous road, and its outcome is uncertain. There is a very good chance that you won't live to see the end of it. But of all those who seek the Firestaff, you, Tarrin Kael, Mi'Shara, you have the best chance to succeed.

  Would you be my champion, Tarrin Kael? Would you seek out what must be sought, and protect it from those who would use it to harm our world? Would you take up my quest? Or will you return to the forest, or seek shelter among the Selani? Either way, I will still love you. Your decision, your choice, it is your own, and either way, I will support it. But there comes a time, my kitten, when the needs of an individual are outweighed by the needs of the many.

  It is this choice that I have been preparing you to make, Tarrin. You must choose between danger and safety, pain and tranquility. Mine is the longer road, full of danger and sharp corners, but at least its ending is much more certain than the much easier path.

  "But why me?" he asked plaintively. "Why give such trust to me? I don't even trust myself!"

  Think about it, she replied. What does being a god represent to a mortal? It represents immortality, and it represents power. Tarrin, my sweet kitten, you already have both. What more would being a god bring to you? I know your heart, my kitten. Such things are not what you desire. All you want out of life now is a small cottage in the forest, where you can simply live. Of all the mortal-kin on Sennadar, you have the least ambition to such a lofty position, and that makes you the most dependable of them all.

  Tarrin couldn't refute such simple logic. And she was right. Tarrin had no desire for such power. All he wanted to do was find somewhere nice and secluded, and just live.

  He lowered his head, staring into the water, his mind lost in deep thought. He was torn between his Were impulse to run into the forest and be free, and his sincere love for and sense of duty towards his mysterous deity. She was giving him a choice, a choice between what he wanted to do and what she needed him to do. Either way, he would leave with her blessing. He had already suffered a great deal, and the Goddess made no guarantees that he wouldn't suffer more. He may even die. He would be risking his life for something that seemed intangible to him, a fairy tale lost in the mists of antiquity. But the consequences of his inactivity had been plainly spelled out. If he did nothing, then there was a good chance that the entire world would suffer. He didn't want any of this. All he wanted to do was be free. But agreeing to this would restrain his freedom yet again, place him in the yoke of yet another master. It went against his nature, just as much as doing nothing went against his human ideals. He was torn within himself, caught between his Were instincts and his human ethics, and neither was strong enough to overcome the other.

  He remembered Miranda's words, a fleeting memory fluttering before him. Sometimes, what one person wants or needs is overshadowed by what others need of them.

  And before his eyes, he could only see Janette, his little mother, and before her stretched a future of frightening ambiguity. She was so young, so young, and her life could be changed, or ended, by the decision that he made.

  In the end, there really was no choice.

  "I will," he said in a quiet voice.

  The statue suddenly began to glow, and its eyes became incandescent. You won't be sorry, my kitten, she said in a delighted voice. The
re are rewards, you know. I wasn't allowed to offer them to you as enticement. It had to be a choice made unswayed by promises of reward.

  Tarrin ignored that. He wasn't very happy about it. But he would do it. She was his Goddess, after all, and he would do what she asked. If only because she asked. "What do I do?"

  I can't give you any direct help, Tarrin, she warned. To do so would upset the rules.

  "Rules? What rules?"

  Tarrin, you are not the only champion of a God playing this game, she warned. There are some Younger Gods who would risk destruction to gain that staff, because it would add to their power. They are forbidden from directly aiding their mortal champions, just as I am forbidden from aiding you. All I can tell you is that the first step to finding the Firestaff is to find the Book of Ages.

  "But that's been missing for centuries!" he said helplessly.

  Yes, but you already know where it is, my kitten, she said impishly. There are only three cities with libraries extensive enough to hold such a prized tome. And you can rule two of them out.

  Extensive libraries? There were indeed three cities highly reputed for their libraries. One was the Library of the katzh-dashi, in Suld. Another was the Cathedral of Knowledge, which was in Sharadar. The third was the Imperial Library in Dala Yar Arak. It certainly wasn't in Suld, but how could he rule one of the other two cities out?

  The Tower! Dolanna said that the Sorcerers in Sharadar had their own Tower! If the book was there, they would have found it, and let the katzh-dashi know!

  "Arak?" he said uncertainly.

  Don't ask me, she said in a light voice. I'm not allowed to tell you. I wouldn't be allowed to agree with you either, if I thought it was a question. But I would be allowed to agree with you if it was a statement made in sincere belief.