Jesmind hugged her daughter tightly, then she began to cry once more, a wracking sob that released all the pent-up emotions inside her. Kimmie hugged her gently, and the taller Were-cat female buried her face in Kimmie's shoulder. Kimmie looked at them all with gentle eyes, stroking Jesmind's hair. "Why don't you go get Jesmind something to eat?" she offered in a compassionate voice. "She'll need some food when she's ready to eat."
"Bring her to her apartment when you're ready," Camara Tal told her with a warm smile. "I'll have everything you need there. We'll make sure she spends these hours in complete comfort and security."
For some reason, he was getting very tired of waking up like this.
But it had been strangely distant this time. There was no climbing out of a black pit of nothingness as it had usually been. This time, it had been like coming down from a great height, as if he'd been floating in a warm, welcoming sea of gentle water or heavy air, a featureless place. It was like he'd been able to defy gravity, like he was sinking back into a reality from which he had found a temporary escape. He felt strangely heavy, but not necessarily tired. He felt oddly disjointed, but he was sure that he hadn't been injured. He felt no pain, no discomfort, only a strange tingling all over, as if his entire body had fallen asleep. He felt decidedly odd, but they were familiar sensations that just seemed slightly out of place, and were even now scurrying to where they should be, which helped lift the fog that was fuzzing his mind.
There was...no memory. He couldn't quite remember where he was or how he'd gotten there. As he felt the tingling begin to subside, he tried to recall where he was and what had happened. There was...a fight. He remembered that. A dark form was there, and it struck at him with a power that seemed to defy rational explanation, but he had somehow managed to stand against it. Then there was an image of the four moons...and then nothing. Nothing until just now.
He became aware of his senses. He was in a large room that had a strange feeling in it. It was perfectly warm, but there were very few scents in the room. He could smell stone, familiar stone, the stone of the Tower. He could smell down and soft linen, and with a mental start, he realized that he could smell the distinct scent that belonged to the icon of the Goddess. He couldn't smell anything else, but he could feel linen against his bare skin, a very slight weight atop him, probably from a sheet. He was laying on a soft mattress of some kind, with a silk pillow filled with down under his head. He could feel the Weave around him, and he realized with some surprise that he was laying directly within the greatest of all the Conduits, the one that ran through the very center of the Tower. That was the fuzzy feeling, the feel of all that power flowing around him, through him, nibbling at his awareness as it passed, feeling both invigoratingly unusual and wonderfully familiar at the same time.
He realized through a mind that only just seemed to be coming back into focus that he was within the Chamber of the Heart, half a world away from where he was supposed to be.
Dimly, more and more of the memory of that came back to him. He had travelled to Gora Umadar to recover his daughter. He remembered that, remembered the crossing of Ungardt, the journey through the cave where he had made the magic belts, then across the mountains running on the top of the snow. He remembered the quick and nervous crossing of the tundra, and then they were there. He went through it in his mind, remembering the journey to the pyramid, the six-armed Demoness--her name was Shaz'baket--and facing Val. He remembered how calm he'd been, how strangely calm. He was facing a god, and he was calm.
He was calm because he had a plan.
The plan. Of course. Now he could think about it freely, since he obviously wasn't there anymore. He had to get Val mad, distract him, then somehow survive that moment when the Goddess' had to withdraw from him to bring the army. Then he had to hold off Val long enough to--
--of course. That must have happened. He had no memory of it, but one moment he had the Firestaff in his paws, and the next, here he was, laying in yet another bed waking up from an unconscious state. That could only mean that he did do it, and if he was still here, then--
"Yes, kitten," the choral voice of the Goddess announced, in quite an amused tone. "The Soultrap worked."
He opened his eyes, and saw her looking down at him with an expression of great love and fierce pride. She was sitting on the bed beside him, her gentle hands stroking the hair back from his face. "You used the Firestaff and became a god, my son," she said gently. "And then you destroyed both Val and yourself. The Soultrap worked, and it claimed your soul before it was destroyed."
"But you said that my soul would die with me," he whispered in a voice that seemed strangely raspy, and was still just a little weak. "I remember that."
"And still you went through with it, despite knowing that," she said with a loving smile. "It shows how very brave you are, my sweet kitten. Even facing total destruction, you were willing to do what you thought you had to do. I'm very proud of you."
"I, I didn't do it for you, Mother," he admitted. "Are Jesmind and Jasana alright?"
"They will be when they see you," she told him. "It's been three days, kitten. Jesmind took your death very hard, and Jasana's been absolutely inconsolable. She blames herself for everything that happened, and she thought that it was her fault you died."
"It wasn't her fault."
"She won't believe that until you say it to her," she told him. "How do you feel?"
"Strange," he admitted.
"That's to be expected," she said, patting him on the shoulder. "This isn't you."
"Excuse me?"
She laughed. "Well, it is, but it isn't," she elaborated. "Remember how it feels to lose a limb and grow a new one? How it tingles for a bit?"
He nodded.
"Isn't that how your whole body feels right now?"
He nodded again, then he started and gaped at her.
She grinned. "There wasn't enough left of either you or Val to thread through a needle, kitten. I had to work with what I had, and the only thing that was left of you was the hair you gave Kimmie. That hair grew the rest of your body. With a little help," she winked.
"You mean I'm in a different body?"
"No, it's you, kitten," she told him. "It may not be the same body you had before you died, but it was made from the body you did have. That makes it your body."
"I have no idea what that means," he said seriously.
She laughed in delight, patting his cheek. "Just trust me, kitten," she told him. "In just a few minutes, the tingling will be gone, and you'll be just as you were when you cut off your braid. And everything works. Fixing you didn't damage your magical powers. They're the same as they were when you cut off the braid. In fact, they're probably even stronger now."
"I don't feel any different."
"It has nothing to do with your body, kitten, it has to do with your mind. You showed us all why you're the Mi'Shara, my kitten. I told you long ago that they never truly understood what it means. Do you know what it means, Tarrin? What it truly means?"
"No."
"The loosest version is the said as the Man Who Once Was. Most thought it meant that it was the man who was once a man, a creature not human but who had once been. The translation in its true state is The man who was once a man, but becomes more than a man."
"That's too many words."
"Yes, it has to do with the delicate subtleties of the Urzani language," she told him. "That term is from ancient Urzani, a short expression with a greater meaning. Did you know that? That it's ancient Urzani?"
He shook his head.
"I'll have Spyder teach it to you," she said absently. "It's a very subtle thing, kitten, but its meaning is quite different from how it sounds. It's a peculiarity of the language, and deals a great deal in metaphor. Ancient Urzani always was a poetic language," she said distantly. "What it means is the man who reaches past the boundaries of man. The Urzani felt that whenever one crossed a significant boundary in his life, like achieving a major goal, or learning a g
reat skill, he ceased being what he was and became something different than what he was before. That's true, when you think about it, but the Urzani had a surprisingly firm grip on things like that. So, you had to understand the subtle intricacies of the ancient Urzani mind to truly understand that term."
She reached out and lightly tapped in on the nose, much like he did with Jasana. "It means that of all the mortals in this world, you have the rarest of all gifts, kitten. You can reach beyond the restrictions of mortal kind and touch on powers never meant for ones such as you."
"I don't understand."
"It's not that hard to understand, kitten. There are some mortals, just a handful that have ever lived in the entire history of this world, that have had the ability to transcend mortal restrictions. You have within you the potential to do almost anything, to achieve magical feats that no other mortal could ever hope to duplicate. Spyder is one of them. You are another."
"I, I think I see," he said. "That's why I can use all four orders of magic, and every time I've needed to be able to do something, I just seem to be able to do it."
"Not quite," she told him. "Your ability to use the orders of magic is because you're a Were-cat, not because you are a Mi'Shara. When the need is greatest, kitten, you have always been able to reach deep inside yourself and touch on magical powers that no other mortal can bring to bear. That is how you survived against Val, kitten. He threw his power at you, but you found within yourself the power to withstand his attack."
"But I wouldn't have lasted long."
"No, you wouldn't have," she agreed. "You are a mortal, kitten, where Val was a god. Even though the power you brought to bear was more than any mortal could ever bring, it was still restricted by the endurance of your frail mortal body. But it lasted you long enough, and for a moment, you proved to be the match of a god. Val underestimated you, kitten. He couldn't look past the base fact that you are a mortal, and that turned out to be his fatal mistake. What he overlooked was that you are the Mi'Shara. He was beaten by his own arrogance. Then again, I think he had a little help in that," she winked.
"I learned that lesson the hard way," he said bluntly. "I thought for once, it would be nice if that cannonball was dropped on someone else's foot."
The Goddess laughed, patting his cheek fondly. "And he definitely underestimated that mind of yours, my kitten. You saw what nobody else could see. You saw that though we are gods, we are still creatures of emotion. And not even our godly might can change that. You played your hand well, my son, and I am so proud of you I want to shout it from every rooftop in the world. You went face to face with a god, and you won."
"I, I thought of that because of all the times I've talked to you," he told her, a bit sheepishly. "I saw that even though you are a god, you did seem to act very human-like, and you did have emotions. I remember each and every time I made you mad, and when I made you happy, and even a few times when I scared you. I realized that Val had to have those same emotions, and that was the only way I could get at him."
"I act in a human manner so you can understand me, kitten," she told him with a smile. "But in a way, you were right. Behind this icon and inside my true self, I'm still a creature of emotion. I love, and hate, and fear, and laugh, and mourn, just like you. It's our emotions that connect us with the mortals, kitten. It's the tying bond that links mortal and god, the one way we can look upon mortals and understand them, even though you are to us what a mouse would be to you. A simplistic creature barely worthy of notice. But you understand the mouse, because you understand how the mouse would feel if you pulled its tail, or gave it cheese and pampered it, or set a cat on it. And when you study the mouse, you discover that it really wasn't as primitive as you first believed."
"That's not very good for my ego, Mother," he told her.
She laughed. "I'm just making an example, kitten," she winked. "Val saw you as a mouse, but he made the fatal mistake of thinking that the lowly mouse didn't have the ability to think. So when the mouse bit him on the ankle, he lost his composure, furious that the lowly creature would dare defy him. Little did he realize that the mouse was biting him on the ankle to keep him from noticing the tiger pouncing on him from behind."
As always, the Goddess phrased things that were very simple to visualize, and conveyed tremendous meaning at the same time. Tarrin nodded in understanding and looked up at her with serious eyes. "What is it, my kitten?" she asked.
"I hope they're not angry with me," he divulged. "Jesmind and them, I mean. About what I did."
She looked at him, then laughed in utter delight. "My son, right now they couldn't possibly be angry with you, no matter what," she told him. "Now, I can't say that's going to hold true after Jesmind calms down and thinks things through, but for right now, just enjoy the moment," she winked. Then she looked towards the gated entrance. "Well, Triana just arrived, so I guess we can trot you out and let them fall all over you," she announced.
"Triana? Where did she go?"
"The Council of Hierarchs, something of the ruling body of the Druids, summoned her, and she couldn't disobey," she answered. "They wanted to see Jula, and get some answers, so she took Jula with her. I sent word to her about what I did here, and she basicly cursed out the Hierarchs for making her come and immediately started back. She was in such a hurry that she forgot Jula."
"She didn't!" Tarrin gasped.
"She did," the Goddess laughed. "Jula's patient, kitten. I told her just to hang tough, and I'd come and get her when I had the chance."
"I can't believe that she did that!"
"Triana's not perfect, kitten. She'll be the first one to tell you that. I'm going to go collect up Jula as soon as I rest up a bit from restoring you. She'll be back by tomorrow."
"That's good."
"Well, kitten, I must admit, I'm very impressed with you. I never thought you'd think of using a Soultrap."
"I'm just surprised it worked," he chuckled ruefully as he felt the tingling completely subside. He sat up in the soft bed the Goddess had made for him, feeling weirdly weak and strong at the same time. "I never thought that weave I put in the cat statue was going to hold for three months. I figured it would have unravelled long before now."
"Don't sell yourself short, kitten. You're not just a power spellweaver," she smiled. "You've got some very formidable skill in the subtle art of delicate spellcraft. You're a very well-rounded Sorcerer. And as soon as you adjust to your new body, you will be again."
"You said I was the same as I was before."
"You are, but it's going to be like breaking in a new pair of boots, kitten," she said with a wink. "As soon as you get used to it, as you break yourself in, you'll be back to your old self in no time. In fact, you may be better than you were before. I wasn't about to let a chance like this go."
"What did you do?"
"Oh, nothing," she said with an insincere look of innocence, putting her hands behind her back.
Tarrin laughed.
She giggled and gave him a wolfish smile. "Honestly, I didn't really do anything, but think about it, kitten," she said seriously. "You were a god. It may be lost to you now, but your soul remembers, and it has changed you. In time, as your soul grounds itself into this new body and feels as comfortable in it as a soldier in an old pair of well-worn boots, you may start to exhibit certain, abilities, that you didn't have before. You were once a god, Tarrin, and though your divinity was destroyed, there may very well be some faint traces of it left in you that gives you powers beyond what you already possess. They would barely be more than a pittance in the reckoning of a god, nothing that would make even the weakest Younger God worry about you trying to usurp his position, but in the mortal world, they might be significant. But only time will tell if that comes to pass. We had to inventa new term for you, kitten. Darian is calling you a demigod, a mortal with traits that are decidedly godly. I rather like the term. You're something like an Avatar now, kitten, but an Avatar of your own creation."
Tarrin had
never considered that, but in all the other information swirling in his mind, he gave it very little weight or importance. That would be something to worry about when, or if, it became a tangible issue. "If I don't like it, can you take it away?"
She nodded. "But I may not want to, and you may not either," she answered. "Having someone like you around may be handy, kitten. There may come a time when Spyder needs some assistance in her role as Guardian, and I know she'd like to take a vacation. You could fill in for her when she needs to take a little break. Besides, you've proved that you're a formidable guardian in your own right, and we have something that we need you to protect."
"What?" he asked uncertainly.
With a smile, she held out her hand, and a black metal shaeram appeared in her hand. Instantly, he recognized it. It was his.
"H-How--" he gasped, but she cut him off.
"It turns out that this metal is quite a bit more indestructible than we believed," she smiled. "Both your amulet and your sword survived. Don't ask me how, because even we don't understand exactly how, but they did. The Firestaff is still inside the amulet. Ahiriya thinks the Firestaff protected itself from destruction, and I'm rather inclined to agree. We've tried to destroy it before, but it just won't die. I think the Firestaff took steps to defend itself from your suicide attack, and it must have caught up the sword with it when it moved to protect the amulet. The conjunction was still taking place, and though it had already used its power on you, it did still have access to some pretty powerful energy. The Firestaff does seem to have a kind of sentience about it, and it must have realized what was about to happen, and took steps. So, we seem to have an opening for a Guardian of the Firestaff, my kitten. Think you're up to the job? You only have to do real work about once every five thousand years or so. The pay's lousy, but at least you have good hours."
Tarrin laughed, laughed long and hard. All that work, thinking he'd destroyed Val and he was also taking the Firestaff with him, and the damned thing managed to survive! How ironic!
Tarrin Kael Firestaff Collection Book 5 - Weavespinner by Fel © Page 86
