Tarrin Kael Firestaff Collection Book 4 - The Shadow Realm by Fel ©

by James Galloway (aka Fel)

  This was the second room they'd seen so far that seemed almost overwhelmingly beautiful. It was the same thing that the Palace in Wikuna tried for, but where the Palace bowled one over with dispays of ridiculous wealth, this place assaulted one with the inescapable taste and beauty of its architecture, decoration, and feel. What this place gave up in quantity to Keritanima's Palace, it more than made up for in subtle taste. Tarrin didn't think that it was wrong for the Sha'Kar to want to surround themselves with beautiful things, but in a way, it almost seemed decadent, as Camara Tal put it.

  And the way Iselde talked, this house was poor compared to some of the others. Dar was right...he didn't want to see anything else if this place was supposed to be crude.

  There was that, and then there were the servants. Arlan had five human women waiting on them, literally hand and foot, all of them dressed in very simple silk black dresses that had skirts that ended at their knees, and dipped low enough to show off each girl's attributes. All five of them were very lovely young women, the oldest probably barely more than twenty, and they went about the business of serving their guests with exuberant, almost drowningly effective zeal. They tried to get Azakar and Camara Tal out of their armor, they tried to take everyone's shoes--Tarrin recalled that everyone here wore soft slippers, and most of his friends were wearing hard-soled boots--and they nearly smothered everyone with endless offers of food, drink, pillows, pipes, anything at all. And they meant anything. When one of the women caught Dar looking at her bosom, she gently yet boldly asked him if he wanted to take her into another room and have his way with her. That made the usually outgoing Arkisian blush to the roots of his hair and stammer out a disjointed, polite refusal.

  What Tarrin and Azakar both noticed almost immediately that all the servants they'd seen so far had been human. The men and women outside, and now the five maids in the house. The five maids were all very lovely, almost as if no one that was not handsome or pretty would be allowed into the house to spoil its appearance. Azakar whispered his observations to Tarrin in Arakite as two of the maids were trying to get the Vendari to hand over their weapons and take something to eat and drink, and Tarrin had to agree with him. The two of them hadn't been very close since they'd been reunited, but both of them had an enduring, almost blind hatred of slavery and servitude. Both of them had suffered under the yoke of a master in different forms, and it was a tie that bound them together.

  Another thing that Tarrin noticed about the women was that none of them were Sorcerers. So far, everyone they'd met that was not a servant was a Sorcerer. Of course, they'd only met three Sha'Kar, but Tarrin had seen some of the others on the very short walk between the edge of the forest and the front gate of Iselde's estate. He'd seen about twelve of the other citizens from relatively close distances, and that was close enough to sense their potential. But these five had no inherent talent for Sorcery. One of them, the tall redhead with the pale freckled skin and the large bosom, actually had the potential to learn Druidic magic--he could feel it in her clearly--but not Sorcery. That one, Tarrin marked mentally to come back and revisit the issue. There were so few Druids, he was positive that Triana would want him to try to do something about it.

  Triana. He hadn't talked to anyone in Suld since they entered the void. Jesmind must be going absolutely crazy, he mused, and making life miserable for everyone around her. He'd bet that Triana would only give him a couple more days, and then she'd contact him with her magic. He knew that she could tell through her ability to keep tabs on him through the bond she once held that he was well, so she wasn't quite ready to tip her hand that she was worried quite yet and break down and talk to him. It was already sunset or close to it in Suld by now, so there was no sense doing it today. He'd get in touch with them tomorrow morning, when it would be around noon or so there.

  Tarrin stood by the fountain, which had a small relief of a nude woman holding a pitcher, from which the water poured, sensing the magic about the fountain. It was Sorcery, but it was a lingering effect, something that Tarrin had thought very hard to accomplish. But then again, Spyder only taught them a mess of spells, not little tricks like sustaining a magical effect after the Sorcerer stopped concentrating on it. High Sorcery could render some spells permanent, linking them directly to the Weave where the spell would draw its power out of the strand on its own, but he didn't sense anything quite so drastic used here. The little fountain was self-contained, recycling the water in the bowl at the bottom to gurgle it from the pitcher at the top. He picked through the weave used on it, and realized that it was a lingering spell, but not permanent. The spell would slowly unravel as it lost the power that had been charged into it, like a candle slowly burning down to the nub. When it exhausted the extra power woven into it, it would unravel, and the spell would have to be cast again. That was a trick that Tarrin hadn't considered using in average weaves. He used it in powerful spells, like summoning Elementals--in fact, it was required to do that for an Elemental, for that power was the magical energy that sustained the Elemental after the Sorcerer finished weaving the spell. He'd never thought to use it in a spell so simple. He thought of any number of ways to use that, like a gentle breeze that would blow by itself and keep someone cool, or a fire that would burn by itself without fuel for hours, maybe even days. That would be handy in Keritanima's steam engine.

  He wondered why Spyder hadn't taught him this trick, and it made him realize that these Sha'Kar were not to be taken lightly. He already could tell that they knew many of the oldest secrets of Sorcery, and they could be lethal adversaries if they decided to fight with them. Tarrin was stronger than any of them, but he was just one male, while they were five hundred strong. Even he could be overwhelmed if seven of their strongest Circled and confronted him. And if they did have human Sorcerers living on the island, then they could get around the limit of seven and come after them with a Circle as large as one hundred thirteen. Two branches of seven human Sorcerers acting as buffers between forty-nine Sha'Kar each, and one Sha'Kar merging the two branches together to act as buffer between the humans, who would also be leading the combined effort. That kind of directed power, it made Tarrin shudder to even consider it. That many Circled may very well have made the incredible dome that protected the island, or the wind that pushed all ships away, or the magical effects that had caused Keritanima's crew to mutiny. That was the power that the stories said was legendary, the mythical power of the katzh-dashi, the power to part the seas, sink islands, move mountains, or stop the moons.

  With that many Sorcerers combined into a single Circle, all of them da'shar and sui'kun, they very well may have been able to do it.

  That worried Tarrin. What if the Sha'Kar were here to defend the Firestaff? What if they were the final guardian? If they could bring that kind of power to bear against him, he wouldn't be able to defeat them. But, as Allia would say, if you can't steal the goat, then you trick the goat into coming to you. He could work around the Sha'Kar if it was needful. Just so long as they didn't oppose him when the time came to get the Firestaff. But that may be tricky. If they did know where it was and were here to protect it, it may get tricky getting that information out of them. But he'd find a way.

  Tarrin looked away from the fountain, and saw that Azakar had taken one of the servant girls aside. She looked like a child standing beside the huge Mahuut, and he was leaning far down to talk to her in low tones. She was blushing quite a bit and giggling. Tarrin realized that he was sweet-talking her. Azakar? Talking to girls? It seemed amusing, but then again, Azakar was a rather handsome fellow. If someone didn't mind the fact that he was nine spans tall, anyway. Dolanna was doing the same thing, talking with one of the maids pouring her some tea, and Keritanima and Miranda had another one cornered over by a sculpture, surreptitiously grilling her for information.

  Iselde and Allyn returned to the room quickly, and Tarrin noticed that all five servants stopped what they were doing and curstied in their direction. The two Sha'Kar youths didn't even take n
otice of them, for their attention was fixated on Tarrin. Iselde came over to him and curtsied herself, her eyes bright and with a smile on her face. "Uncle Arlan went to escort the Council and Grand Syllis here," she announced to him. "He wanted to talk to them in person before they got here."

  "I still can't believe that an honored one is in our house!" Allyn gushed, then he glanced at Allia. And kept glancing over at her. The young Sha'Kar seemed quite taken by the Selani, for some reason. That, or he just couldn't help looking at one of the Lost, one or the other.

  "How long will it take for them to get here?" Tarrin asked the girl.

  "Not long, honored one," she replied. "Once they hear that you're here, they'll come right away."

  "The other estates are starting to hear about our visitors," Allyn said to them. "I saw alot of talking at gates when I went with uncle Arlan."

  "Would you like to sit down, honored one?" Iselde pressed. "Have you been offered food and drink?"

  "I prefer to stand, Iselde," he said, bringing his tail around and waggling it. "This makes some furniture a little uncomfortable."

  "We can bring you a stool if you'd like."

  "I'm fine," he said firmly. He looked down at them, and realized that these two, so smitten with a sui'kun, just might be able to give him some information that he wouldn't have to drag out of the older, more experienced Elders. He may have better luck with them then the others would with the servants. "I'm still a bit surprised to find you out here," he told them. "Why did your people come here? Why not a larger island?"

  "Why, because of the Ward," she answered. "Uncle Arlan said that the First Ones set it a long long time ago, to keep the mundanes away from this place. He says that when we left the towers to wait out the Breaking, that this place would be the best place for us. Without our magic, we'd be defenseless!" She licked her lips. "What's it like outside, honored one? Is there magic again? Is it safe for us now?"

  "There's always been magic, Iselde," he told her. "Once the Breaking was over, it was safe for us again."

  "How did you survive it, honored one?"Allyn asked.

  "I wasn't alive when it happened," he told them. "I was born afterward."

  "Oh!" Iselde gasped. "You're one of the new sui'kun, the ones that the Elders talk about all the time!"

  "What do they say?"

  "That the Goddess will send her gifts back into the world, and that new sui'kun will be born to replace those who died. That's what we've been waiting for. They say when the seven are restored, the Ward protecting the island will fail, and that will be our sign to return."

  And that, he realized, was why the Goddess had sent him. There were six sui'kun alive right now. Spyder had been the original. Then Tarrin and Jenna had been born. Then Jasana. The fifth had been born during the battle at Suld, and the sixth not long ago. There was only one sui'kun left unborn, and if Iselde was right, then its birth would cause the Ward defending the island to fail. It may also disrupt the other magical protections, leaving the Firestaff undefended. Especially if the Sha'Kar left the island after the Ward came down, left to return to the outside world.

  That was why it was so important for Tarrin to get the Firestaff. He had thought that the defenses were a bit too fearsome for the Goddess to worry about it, and in a way, he was right. Only Tarrin, the Mi'Shara, could breach the Ward and gain entry to the island. That was why he had the best chance of succeeding, because he could make his attempt before anyone else could try, and thusly face no competition during his attempt. But if those protections were gone, then the Firestaff would be just sitting somewhere on this island waiting for someone to pick it up. It may or may not be defended at that time, depending on if the Sha'Kar were the final guardians or not. If they were, it would be defenseless. If not, it would be guarded, but most of the other protective measures that protected it would be gone, thereby making recovering it a much simpler task. That was the whole reason why the ki'zadun had tried to both kill him and control him. If they controlled him, they would have first shot at the Firestaff. If they couldn't control him, they had to kill him, thereby making it a dead race, a race they had a good chance of winning. Only the Zakkites and the Wikuni would pose a real threat to their victory, for both were formidable naval powers. Both had the capability of surrounding the island and blockading it against anyone else.

  Tarrin put that revelation aside for the moment, considering what else to ask. "How did your people know to come here?" he asked. "The Breaking happened so suddenly, there wasn't any warning."

  "My uncle told us that some of my people can read the probabilities of the future," she answered. "It's not a gift of Sorcery, it's a gift of the mind. Some of them foresaw the Breaking and convinced enough of our people and some of the humans to come here and wait for that day to come. If it came and went without any disaster, then there would be nothing lost. But if it did, then our people would continue on and our ways wouldn't be lost to the world."

  "Then your people were wise," he told her. "The Sha'kar are nothing but myth and legend now. Everything about your people has been lost and forgotten. Even your language has been forgotten by the outside world."

  "If that's so, then how do you know it, honored one?"

  "Good question," he smiled. "We found forgotten scrolls in a musty old cellar that held the key to learning the spoken form. Have you ever heard of the Book of Ages?"

  Iselde gasped and gaped at him. "You've read from the holy book?" she asked him in wonder.

  "I've held it in my paws, Iselde," he told her gently. "It taught us the written Sha'Kar language. We used that to piece together some things left behind after the Breaking, and that's what brought us out here."

  "What are you doing here, honored one?" she finally asked. "If you're not here to come and get us, then why?"

  "We're searching for an ancient artifact called the Firestaff," he told her very carefully, watching her expression and her eyes and analyzing her scent. When he said the word firestaff, he saw her eyes shift a little and her brow furrow, and her scent picked up a slight tang of concern. It was a word she understood, and it caused her to react with slight anxiety. "Ancient writings said that it was somewhere out here, and we've been looking for it. We thought it might be here, so we came to check before moving on."

  "If you're sui'kun, then you know what it is, and what it can do," she said seriously.

  "I do. That's why we're out here. I'm here to stop that from happening," he told her adamantly. "I was sent by the Goddess herself."

  Tarrin saw the conflict in her eyes. Iselde knew something about the Firestaff, but she obviously wasn't sure if she should tell him or not. Tarrin was about to press her, to use her awe of him as a weapon to make her tell him what she knew, but Arlan chose that moment to return. And he was leading nine Sha'Kar, eight dressed in brilliant yellow robes that stood out against their skin and the ninth wearing a robe that almost looked to be made out of gold spun into cloth. All nine of them looked mature, but not old. Five were male, and four were female. All of them had the pattern Sha'Kar beauty, a similarity of appearance that probably went through the whole race, with only minor alterations of that base beauty to disseminate between individuals. Some had broader cheeks, some narrower. Some had larger eyes, some smaller. Some had larger ears or a sharper chin, some had a slightly narrower nose or more elegant brows. But the commonality of beauty went through all nine of them. Even Allia shared that same basic appearance, as did Var, Denai, and all the Selani he'd seen. In a fleeting instant, Tarrin understood why the Wikuni gods changed their children, who were also descendents of the Sha'Kar and Urzani. Those Sha'Kar had abandoned the Sha'Kar culture, but they still looked like Sha'Kar. The Wikuni gods wanted that change to be a complete one, so they altered the appearance of their worshippers.

  All nine of them absolutely ignored everyone else in the room, didn't see the five human girls curtsy to them nervously. All of them were looking right at Tarrin. He could sense their power, and realized that these nine were
not to be taken lightly. They were all da'shar, and from the feel of them, they were alive during the Breaking. These were people who lived during the Age of Power, beings whose command of Sorcery would seem almost godlike to the modern descendents of the old katzh-dashi. They were at least a thousand years old, all of them, and they all had a similar sense about them that Triana did, a sheathe of wisdom and power that made them stand above those around them. These, Tarrin realized, were Ancients.

  Ghosts of the past, resurrected into the future. Now that dream made complete sense.

  "Honored one," one of the yellow-robed males said in awe, one with small eyes. "I never dreamed I'd live to see the day the honored ones returned to us."

  The one in the gold robe stepped forward and bowed. "Honored one, I am Grand Syllis," he introduced in a nasal voice. "It's been too long since we've been graced with the presence of one such as you. Sha'Kari welcomes you with open arms. Our homes are your homes, and our wine is your wine."