The Questing Game f-2

by James Galloway

  "Amazing, good Renoit," he said appreciatively. "Despite the animosity between Arak and the Selani, I would be very happy if you would perform your famous dance for me, desert flower."

  "I will do as you ask, Emperor of Arak," she replied calmly, looking him directly in the eye and not bowing to him. "If it pleases you."

  "It will please me greatly," he smiled.

  Then he went by. The Empress of Arak was trailing along behind him silently, and she paused to look at Allia while the Emperor was being introduced to Deward. "My, what a cute little cat," she remarked in an odd accent. She moved a little closer, and Tarrin caught her scent.

  He had never smelled anything like it before. It turned his stomach, it nearly made him ill. Her scent was the distilled scent of pure and utter corruption, a dark taint of foulness that permeated the air between them. It was horrid, and the very whiff of it filled him with a complete and nearly hysterical need to get away from it. But he was firmly held in Allia's arms, and he was held captive to the instinctual terror that the scent incited within him. This was an inhuman smell. It was an unearthly smell, a scent that did not belong in the natural world. Much as the dark, decaying scent of a Wraith triggered something deep inside him, a reaction to the imbalance of nature's workings, this woman's scent triggered something a thousand times more intense inside him. She was reaching out to pet him, but he would have none of that.

  Laying his ears back, he bared his fangs and hissed at her for everything he was worth, a primal threat display in response to something that terrified the Cat within him. If Allia wasn't holding him, he would have shapeshifted right then and there, and probably would have attacked her immediately, but to do so would harm Allia, and he would never hurt his sister. He got his free paw out and extended his claws, taking a swipe at that hand as it reached for him, threatened him, and he tried to back out of Allia's arms so he could get down and flee.

  "My goodness!" the Empress of Arak said in surprise, flinching away from him with surprise in her green eyes. Eyes that seemed to burn into his, eyes that had nothing but pure and unadulterated evil within them. Tarrin looked into those eyes, and he simply knew the truth about the Empress of Arak.

  She wasn't human! he had no idea what she really was, but she wasn't human, she was no part of Fae-da'Nar, and she probably had no natural place on the face of Sennadar. That made her either an Outworlder or a Demon. By the total unnatural content of her scent, he thought her to be a Demon.

  Tarrin growled at her, hissing again and holding out his paw to dissuade another attempt to touch him. "F-Forgive him, Empress of Arak," Allia said in total surprise. "He does not favor strangers, but I have never seen him do that before. You must have surprised him."

  "Oh, goodness!" she said in a slightly vapid tone. "I hope I didn't scare the little dear. That simply wouldn't do."

  "Many apologies."

  "Oh, you don't have to do that," she said with a thin smile. "Accidents do happen." She looked down at him, and that lightheartedness evaporated from those eyes like smoke, and the penetrating power of her stare bored into his eyes. "Don't they, little kitty?"

  It was almost hypnotic, her gaze was. It insinuated itself into his consciousness, laid itself over his will, seeking to smother it in a strange sort of need to please her. It was almost as if she had penetrated herself into his mind, whispering soundless words to him to woo him, to subvert his fear and his instinctual distrust of her. He felt his will corrupting, felt it loosen against her, but then his human mind realized that something outside of him was causing that strange sensation. That caused the Cat to roar back into his mind and attack that strange sense of lassitude like an enemy, exactly as it did when he attempted to Circle with other Sorcerers. Tarrin's dual mind joined in a common cause, lending him the power to eject the strange feeling, to eject her from his consciousness.

  Tarrin shook his head to clear the disorientation, but more surprisingly, Empress Lika recoiled as if someone had stuck a live snake in her face. She looked at Tarrin with eyes that were filled with shock, with inconceivable surprise, and then she laughed. It was a hollow sound, a wicked little chuckle that made Tarrin's fur crawl. He put his ears back and growled at her again, a deep rumbling sound in his throat that was too deep to come from the throat a housecat.

  "I think your little cat doesn't like me, Selani," Empress Lika said with a light laugh. "No matter. He'll learn to love me. Everyone does, sooner or later."

  The strange undertone of her words made Tarrin look at her in surprise. She knew! She knew he had thwarted whatever it was she did, and she was telling him that she knew! And she was promising that it wouldn't be the last time she tried!

  What was she?

  She moved to catch up with her husband, but she left in her wake a very shaken Were-cat. She introduced something into this game that he never expected. The Empress of Arak was not what she appeared to be, and she knew that he was not what he appeared to be either. He was sure of it. Her will was so powerful, no normal cat could have resisted it.

  He watched her walk away, and it made him cold. Somehow, he was sure that that wouldn't be the last time he and the Empress of Arak faced off against one another.

  He was sure of it.

  GoTo: Title EoF

  Chapter 23

  He really didn't know what to say, or how to say it.

  Tarrin turned away from Allia in Renoit's tent and threw up his paws. She and Dolanna were grilling him about what had happened between him and the Empress, but he simply didn't have the answers to their questions. Tarrin was still visibly shaken by his meeting with the Empress. He was noticably pale, and his tail slashed behind him like a berzerker's sword. The fur on his arms was still standing straight up, and he was nervous, edgy, and extremely jumpy.

  That scent. It still burned in his nose, hung inside it like an ooze, and he pawed at it ceaselessly to try to shake the memory of that scent loose. It was just ghastly. He never imagined anything could ever smell that way. It wasn't that the smell was overpoweringly putrid, it was the sense of absolute corruption that rested within it. Total evil. If evil had a smell, then that was it. That smell wouldn't fade from his nose, clung to his mind, and it made him feel like the woman was right behind him.

  "She's not human," he declared bluntly. "She got close to me, and I could smell her. It was-" he shuddered. "It was like her scent was pure evil. It gives me the chills to just think about it. She reached out for me, and it was like an instant response. No animal would get within a longspan of her, Allia. That explains why I haven't seen very many birds around here."

  "She seemed to imply that she had pets," Allia countered.

  "She tried to, enslave me, sister," he bristled. "That's the only way I can explain it. She looked at me, and it was like her eyes were trying to bleed off my will. I could feel a part of her inside my mind, something like a Circle. If it wasn't for the fact that my mind instinctively rejects that kind of contact, she would have succeeded." He hugged himself a bit. He felt cold. "If she has pets, it's because she did that to them."

  "Are you absolutely sure about this, Tarrin?" Dolanna asked intently. "You are talking about the Empress of Arak! She represents the paragon of Arakite purity! She was married to the Emperor for no reason other than to produce an heir!"

  "She has red hair, Dolanna!" Tarrin shot back. "Doesn't that tell you that she's not Arakite?"

  "She did not have red hair, Tarrin," Dolanna said, not a little confused. "Her hair was black."

  "It was black, brother," Allia agreed.

  "It was red," he said adamantly. "She had red hair and green eyes, just like-" he shivered again. "Just like Jesmind."

  "This is not something over which I would usually disagree with you, dear one," Dolanna said, "but I know what I saw, and I felt no strange sensation from her."

  "I did not like the look in her eyes, but I saw nothing unusual either, deshida."

  "What color were her eyes, Allia?" Tarrin asked.

  "Brow
n, but for a moment I thought that they looked a little different. I think it was because she had the sun in her eyes."

  "That had nothing to do with the sun," Tarrin snorted.

  "Tarrin, I understand your apprehension, but you should just let this go," Dolanna said. "She is the Empress. We are but visitors, nowhere near her notice. The odds are that you will never see her again. Why worry about who and what she is? It is none of our concern. Simply leave her be, and worry no more about it."

  "I agree, my brother."

  "On to another matter. Sarraya said that she was visited by a man in a black cloak last night, a man who knew who we were. Did you receive such a visitor?"

  Tarrin put the Empress of Arak out of his mind for a moment. "I did," he replied. "He threatened to hurt Allia, so I killed him. It made me mad enough to forget sneaking around, too."

  "What did he say?"

  "He said that if we weren't with the circus when it left, then they'd hurt Allia. I didn't give him time to say anything else. I lost it right after I heard that."

  "Sarraya said that she was told much the same thing, but the man who visited her threatened Dar. I will have to warn Camara Tal to be careful. And Allia, I will be going with you."

  "Why? I can protect myself, Dolanna."

  "You are but one," she replied calmly. "A second pair of eyes will give you twice the protection, and with people out there threatening us, I wish us to have additional protection. And I am sure that you do not think I will be dead weight," she said with a slight smile.

  "Never that, Dolanna," Allia agreed with a nod. "What about Tarrin and Sarraya?"

  "They can take care of themselves," Dolanna said, sitting down at the small table Renoit had in his tent. "Sarraya has her magic to protect her, and there is probably no living thing in Dala Yar Arak that can take Tarrin by surprise."

  Tarrin left them without another word, just barely remembering to change back into a cat before he left Renoit's tent. No matter what Dolanna said, he couldn't forget about what he smelled. That woman was a terrifying, unknown force, a woman with strange powers, and she had tried to use them on him. That probably frightened him more than anything else. She had tried to enslave him, to turn him back into what he had killed countless people to prevent. That was the one thing he would never allow. He'd kill himself before he allowed himself to be a slave again. She had tried to take his very will prisoner, and because of that, he just couldn't forget.

  He brooded about it the rest of the day, waiting for sunset, waiting for when he could go back out and do what he had come to the city to do. He couldn't let himself go off like that again. If people knew about him, and more importantly, if they were afraid he'd visit their homes, they'd take extra precautions that would slow Tarrin down in his mission. He couldn't afford to slow down. Dolanna was right, he had to go quietly and not raise any fuss. He had to be careful, because those men in the black cloaks were out there too, and they knew about him.

  He wondered who they were. His guess was that they were part of Kravon's little family. They certainly knew enough about him, and Kravon's Black Network was the only group that would know so much. They had sent Jula, they had sent Jegojah, so they had to know a great deal about him and his companions. He wasn't afraid of them, but he was concerned for Dar and Allia. They didn't have Tarrin's attributes. Dar especially was vulnerable, because not only was he human, but he was also not even fully grown. Dar needed someone to protect him, and Tarrin just couldn't spare the time, so he was relieved and glad that Camara Tal would be with him. The Amazon was human, but she was a powerul priestess, and there weren't many who could best her in a swordfight.

  Strange. Dar was only two years younger than him, but everything that had happened to him had aged him before his time, opened his eyes to the harsh reality of the world, matured him to the point where nothing that would have interested a young man had any meaning for him anymore. There just wasn't anything, for that matter. No interests, only a few friends, and living day after day after day with the fear and the anger that drove him, the fear of strangers and enslavement, and the anger of knowing he was too weak to be his own master. There was little joy left in the world for him, and what little there had been seemed to disappear when Faalken died. All he had was his mission, a mission that had cost the jovial Knight his life, a mission that he had vowed to accomplish.

  But regret was for those who could afford to dream of another life. That was the way things were, and it was that simple. He couldn't afford to soften himself with wishful thinking. That would get him killed. After it was all over, then he would think of what was next in his life, but not until then. For now, he waited for sunset. He waited for the chance to go out and do something.

  In the night, everything was much more clear.

  Tarrin paused a moment in his searching to look up at the moons, perched in a squat on the corner of a flat-roofed three story dwelling. It was still beautiful. Dommammon was full, and Vala and Duva were half full, just rising, as Kava descended towards the horizon in a waning crescent. By tomorrow, Kava would be new, hidden from the night sky, as Vala and Duva bloomed towards their fullness. The Skybands, which were little more than a knife's edge in Dala Yar Arak, cut across the face of Dommammon's upper half, a tight band of scillinting color painted across the smooth white surface of the largest moon.

  Things were much simpler in the night. Here, in this place, Tarrin was the predator. He was the king of this jungle, master of all he surveyed, a towering force against which nothing could stand. He accepted this role with eloquent generosity, passing over his lessers magnaminously and allowing them to go about their own business, so long as they didn't interfere in his. The forest of sand-colored buildings spread out before him all looked the same, but the smells and scents drifting on the breeze and the faint sounds from below told him everything that was going on around him. The king of this jungle was a wary, alert king, sensitive to the subtlest change in his environment that could be the approach of danger.

  It was strange how happy it made him. Just squatting there and looking up at the moon, partaking in the simplest of pleasures, it calmed him as the magic of the moons worked their way into his Were-cat soul. Everything always seemed so confusing, until he stopped to look at the moons. And then, everything was clear. He knew what he was doing, he knew why he was there, and most importantly, he gained a sense of self that transcended human and Cat, old morals and feral impulses. Fear, distrust, worry, they all melted away in the light of the greatest moon, leaving him with a sense of serenity he rarely felt anywhere other than the embrace or touch of his sisters, Janette, or Miranda. He could almost see Miranda's cheeky face in the face of the white moon. The mink Wikuni was an Avatar, it turned out, blessed by the Wikuni goddess of the sea and navigation to make her a suitable companion to complement Keritanima's innate gifts. A little piece of the moons were inside her, and that was why she seemed to sing to him, the same way the moons did. Looking up at the moons made him feel a little closer to her, and in a way, closer to Keritanima.

  He missed that annoying little brat desperately. He missed her smiles and her sharp tongue, he missed the way she always seemed to twist everything into a wry joke. He missed her conniving and chicanery, he even missed how her eyes would flare up when she was mad at him. He needed her, but she was thousands of leagues away, probably embroiled in about thirty seperate plots to bring her father down. He wanted to talk to her, but he was afraid that doing so would cause her a serious problem. His voice could give her away when she was skulking, and he'd never forgive himself if she got hurt because of it. She would have to contact him, and he was starting to get worried. Why wouldn't she call to him? She hadn't done so for nearly a month. With Faalken gone, knowing that they were so far away, out of his reach, it tore at him. If something happened to them, he wouldn't be there to protect them. He wanted all of them with him, where he could keep them safe, and not lose another friend in this mad quest.

  Quest. There were three
of them down there. Questors. Men that had taken up the search for the Firestaff on their own, dreaming of power and glory. These three were smart ones, they were. He'd been following them for a few blocks after hearing one of them mention the Book of Ages. He was eavesdropping, seeing if they knew where it was. They seemed harmless enough. One of them was a scholar from Telluria, one was a ship's captain, and the third was the scholar's hired bodyguard, a large Mahuut wearing a chain jack and carrying a glaive. He was nowhere near as large as Azakar, the only Mahuut Tarrin had ever seen, but he was impressively tall and very muscular. The Scholar had figured out that the Book of Ages probably had the location of the Firestaff in its pages, and he'd come to Dala Yar Arak after trying the Cathedral of Knowledge in Abrodar first. And from what Tarrin heard, if he didn't find it in the Imperial Library, he'd move on to Suld, to try the Tower Library.

  Poor Phandebrass. Tarrin saw the Imperial Library earlier that night, for it was in his sector. Phandebrass had waived him off, because the mage was searching the library during the day. That building was huge. And it was completely full of books! There had to be millions of books in that vault of paper! And Phandebrass was running in there and tackling it day after day, trying to find the one thing everyone else was also trying to find. From what Tarrin overheard while dozing, it was nearly militant inside the Library. Tarrin's group wasn't the only one to realize that the Firestaff's history had to be written down somewhere. Most of them didn't know it was in the Book of Ages. They thought if they read through enough history books, they'd find the clues they needed to find the artifact. Tarrin had to admit, it was a very smart plan. And if someone wanted to read alot of books, the Imperial Library was just about the best place to go. According to Phandebrass' telling, men were fighting each other between bookshelves to read certain books first. There had even been a few murders inside the Library. Everyone going in now went in with bodyguards, and that made the place look more like an exercise yard than the largest collection of knowledge in the world.