The pain of holding the human shape gnawing at him, he pulled the string back and sighted down an imaginary arrow shaft. It felt lighter to him now, easier. His human form was human, but because he was Were, his human shape was stronger than it had been before being turned. Not a whole lot, but it was enough for him to feel the difference in pulling the bow. Of course, compared to his inhuman strength he enjoyed in his natural form, he felt like a little kitten. Just pulling back the bow flooded him with memories of lessons from his father, memories of bucks he'd had in his sights, memories of how to shoot his bow with proper aim. The memories were enough to drown out the pain and the nagging unease he felt with the Amazon and the Faerie so close to him. Camara Tal sat on a short barrel, whittling knife still worrying at a piece of wood, as Sarraya hovered in the air with her wings buzzing just beside her. The two of them were quiet, for a change. All that morning, they had been sniping at each other. Camara Tal didn't like Sarraya, and Sarraya wasn't too fond of Camara Tal. Their fighting had upset him, upset him so much that he didn't want to practice the bow. It was nearly enough to make him abandon them to their arguing. They'd settled into an uneasy silence now, probably because they'd run out of bad things to say to each other.
He looked out over the expanse of ocean, feeling very relieved. They had left the Tears that morning, and had not been challenged by anyone else. Odds were that the pirates they let go had warned everyone else that trying to attack the garish ship was suicide. The average pirate was just like any mercenary or hireling. They were interested in getting as much as they could with as little danger as possible. A little deckfight was normal in the pirating business, and it was something the average pirate would risk for some booty. But a pirate would not tangle with a ship that carried a pack of dangerous magic-users. That was just too much risk for only the chance of some booty. The raw power they were carrying was as much a security blanket as the fact that their ship was so distinguishable. They wouldn't even be attacked by accident. Only a blind man could mistake Renoit's ship for some other.
Sometimes Tarrin thought he could learn to love the ghastly pink ship.
Free of the Tears, the performers had gone back to their practicing. Allia helped one of the acrobats learn a new move near the stern, and Dar was practicing his Illusions near the mainmast, conjuring up portait-like Illusions of people and landscapes. The strongmen and jugglers were taking their turn as the ship's sailors, handling the sails and rigging to catch the erratic wind as it wavered from the southwest to the northwest. Faalken was with Dolanna on the steering deck, with Renoit. He knew Dolanna was watching him. She knew he was having trouble with Camara Tal and Sarraya, and he bet that she wanted to see what he would do when he was exposed to both of them at the same time.
"Alright, here's an arrow," Sarraya piped, holding her hands out from her tiny body. A wooden arrow simply appeared in front of her, with gray fletching and a wooden head, and it clattered to the deck. "Tell me what you think."
Tarrin picked it up and inspected it. It was straight and rugged, but its balance was off. "It's too front-heavy," he replied. "A steel head doesn't weigh that much."
"How much lighter?"
Tarrin measured the arrow and set his finger under the effective centerpoint of the arrow's center of gravity. "It should be balanced at this point," he said, holding the arrow up for her to see that point, some fingers forward of the shaft's middle. When he removed his steadying hand, the arrow sagged at the front until it began sliding off his finger.
"I love it when I have visual aid," Sarraya grinned. She pointed at the arrow in his hand, and it simply disappeared. A second later, a new one was in its place. "How's that?"
Tarrin weighed it, and nodded. "Perfect."
"Well, you can't be shooting down the ship's deck, for obvious reasons," Sarraya said. "I thought I'd make a small target made of light for you off the rail, and let you shoot into the sea instead."
"That's a pretty good idea," he agreed. "Can you control the light?"
Sarraya nodded. "I know you'll be shooting into a crosswind. At least if we do this from the side. We could go up to the bow, or up on the steering deck instead."
"The bow would be better. Tailwinds don't affect an arrow's flight as much as a headwind."
"Why is that?" the sprite asked curiously.
"A tailwind pushes the arrow ahead," Camara Tal answered for him. "A headwind slows it down. Shooting into a headwind means you have to raise the bow and fire at a trajectory. That's not easy to calculate."
"I didn't ask you," Sarraya said shortly.
"You didn't not ask me either."
"Hmph," Sarraya snorted, flitting away from the Amazon.
"Pardon my opinion, but you look strange like that," Camara Tal told him, pointing at his human form.
"It feels as strange to me as it looks to you," he replied. "This isn't very comfortable for me."
"I know, Triana told me about that," Camara Tal assured him. "You going to be alright?"
"Allia taught me ways to ignore the pain, at least until it gets too bad," he replied. "I'll be alright for a few hours."
"Good. But if it starts bothering you, let me know," she said. "I know a spell that deadens pain. It could help."
The idea of letting her use magic on him made his heart seize in his chest. That required trust, and he wouldn't let her get that close to him. Goddess only knew what spell she'd really cast if he allowed her to use magic on him. "No thanks," he said curtly, turning and nocking the arrow on his bow, then smoothly drawing it to get a feel for the conjured missle. He tried to empty his mind of stray thoughts as he was taught, to prepare to fire the arrow with accuracy.
But as soon as he tried to center on the arrow, he got the strangest feeling, like a phantom collar had been snapped around his neck. That was enough to throw him into an absolute panic, making his heart lurch and his breath catch in his throat. He let go of the bowstring immediately, causing the arrow to fly off the bow in a wobbly arc and making him whirl around quickly to see where they were. Camara Tal was still sitting on the barrel, looking up at him, and the Faerie was hovering some distance from her on his other side. The Amazon gave him a calm look and put away her whittling knife, then stood up. "That was pathetic," she said calmly. "Let me see that bow."
What she didn't seem to sense was the momentary sense of panic Tarrin was suffering. He had turned his back on them, and when he did, just for that fleeting instant he thought one of them had done something. The feeling of that collar around his neck was something that he would never forget, and it still had a tremendous power over his behavior, even though it was long ago destroyed. Seeing the Amazon, the stranger, approach, Tarrin threw down the bow and changed form, returning to his more powerful humanoid shape, and he put his ears back in warning of her approach.
That got her attention. "Don't raise your hackles at me, boy," she said in a commanding voice. "I'm not going to bother you. I just want to see if the bow is damaged."
"Just get away from me," Tarrin hissed threateningly, settling into that slouching posture that served as his fighting form and extending all of his claws.
"I told you not to take that tone with me, Tarrin," Camara Tal said ominously. "I'm not going to hurt you." She didn't stop, though, continuing to approach him.
"Uh, Camara, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Sarraya said in a very serious voice.
"Do what?" she asked, turning to look at the Faerie--
--and found herself laying flat on her back, frantically grabbing at the clawed paw that was clutching her by the neck, holding her down. Those claws were driving into her neck and shoulders, drawing blood, penetrating past skin and digging into flesh as the pressure behind them increased. "I said get away from me!" Tarrin shouted at her with a vicious glare, picking her back up by the neck, then tossing her across the deck like a rag doll. She landed on her side, sliding a few spans on the scrubbed wood, then coming to a stop. She raised up on one arm and looked back at him, bloo
d flowing from her neck and shoulders.
"Do that," Sarraya told her. "When a Were-cat shows claws, you don't take another step towards him."
"I see," she said ruefully, wiping the blood away from her chest and looking at him calmly. Tarrin's eyes were lit from within with their greenish aura that marked his anger, and he glared at her flatly, eyes and body posture promising something worse should she try again.
Red haze clouded Tarrin's judgement. The panic over the feel of that collar allowed the Cat to overwhelm him, and he no longer saw Camara Tal as an associate. She was a stranger, and that made her an enemy. Work and practice on the deck stopped as everyone turned to look at the disturbance, but Tarrin didn't see or even register their presence. His entire attention was affixed on the Amazon, and should she rise and invade his personal space again, he wouldn't be so gentle with her the next time.
Then Allia was there. With quick, soothing words and hands on his shoulders, the Selani quickly and efficiently talked him down. Sanity returned to his mind, the Cat retreated back to its place in his mind as her reassuring presence and scent washed over him. He put a bloodstained paw to his forehead and shook it as if to throw off cobwebs, then looked at Allia with a little uncertainty.
What had caused that?
"Allia," he said in a shaken voice.
"What happened, my brother?" she asked soothingly.
"I turned to shoot the bow, and all I could feel was like something snapping around my neck. I just couldn't help myself. I thought Camara Tal tried to collar me."
"She didn't do anything at all," she assured him. "She was sitting there the whole time."
"I know, but I couldn't help it," he said with a sigh. "I'm going to go lay down a while."
"Go ahead, I'll be there in a few minutes," she told him, and Tarrin rushed away, one paw's claws still dripping Camara Tal's blood onto the deck. It had been powerful and completely uncontrollable, and he knew that what he needed was some time away from everyone else, some time to calm down and try to make sense of what had happened. Well, he knew what had happened, but he needed some time to understand what had caused him to remember that feeling at just that time.
Her magic. He was thinking about her using her magic on him, and it made him afraid. Maybe that's what provoked it.
Scurrying quickly to the stairs, he moved to get himself away from the gazes of the performers, of his friends, seeking a place of quiet and solitude where he could get his nerves untangled.
"That was stupid, Camara," Sarraya teased the Amazon from a safe distance.
"I've dealt with him in that mood before," she said with not a little uncertainty. "He's knuckled under to me. What set him off?"
"If you wish to deal with my brother, learn to respect my brother," Allia told the Amazon stiffly. "You did not respect his wish, and you paid for it. He does not trust you. He will kill you if you press him too far, and he will not even bat an eye over it."
"I'm trying to win his trust, Selani. Sometimes that means I have to take chances. He won't respect me if he thinks he can push me around."
"It is your life," Allia shrugged. "I suggest you care for it more. And if you wish to live long enough to stand on dry land again, I suggest you listen to the Faerie. She knows much more about the Were-cats than you, and she can warn you off if you do something so foolish again." She gave the Amazon a steady, unwavering look, then she rushed off after Tarrin.
Camara Tal glanced at the grinning Faerie, then snorted. "Shut up," she said gruffly, getting back to her feet.
After spending an afternoon and evening curled up in a little ball against Allia's stomach, allowing her to spoil him a little bit, he returned to what Renoit asked of him. Camara Tal and Sarraya were there, but they gave him a large breathing space, large enough so he could turn his back on them and not be unsettled by their proximity. That had to be what it was. He knew them, but that was the first time he had turned his back on them and tried to concentrate on something other than them. He had lowered his guard, and the fact that he did caused his mind to conjure up a memory of what had happened the last time he turned his back on someone he thought was trustworthy.
And in a strange way, it gave him a little hope. That he would in fact drop his guard with his back to them, even for a fleeting moment, gave him hope that he could do overwhelm his fear of them and accept them both. After all, he did like them. Sarraya was funny, and Camara Tal was a staunch, dependable woman with a personality he could understand.
He made no apologies to Camara Tal, and she didn't bring it up. She had pressured him beyond his breaking point, and she paid the price. If anything, he saw it as a learning experience for her. He could tolerate her presence, he even liked her a little bit, but she had to respect his personal space, and also give ground to him when he was adamant about being left alone. It was little to ask of her, and if she couldn't follow those simple rules, maybe it was better if he killed her now, just to get the inevitable overwith. He knew what she wanted from him, and it was something he was trying to give, but she had to just back off and let him try to sort through it on his own. Trying to push him into things only triggered his defensive instincts, and she'd already learned what his defensive instincts did.
It set up a pattern for Tarrin that continued for nearly a ride. He would practice with his bow during the morning, shooting at little target balls of light that Sarraya created for him out over the open water, then he would spend time with Camara Tal after lunch and let her teach him her language. After that, he would eat dinner with his friends, and then spend the rest of the evening with Allia, playing stones or chess, reading, or just dozing on her lap or against her side. Sometimes Faalken, Dolanna, or Dar spent the evening with them, talking, playing King's Castle or betting games like Tall Man's Bluff. The time of quiet normalcy eased Tarrin through the episode with Camara Tal, and got him back to a point where he could stay in close proximity with her for extended periods of time.
Sarraya was another matter. He often stood as host for her as she sat on his shoulder or on top of his head, and he often forgot that she was there. She knew many interesting stories, and entertained Tarrrin and Allia more than a few nights with her old folk tales as they played chess or stones. She knew as many stories as Phandebrass, but hers were stories of the Fae-da'Nar, so they were much more original and unique than the doddering wizard's tales from around the world. Since the misadventure with Turnkey, she had stopped being such a pain, and that had made her much more accepted both by Tarrin and by the rest of the ship's population. She still played a few pranks, but they were very mild and nothing that would make anyone angry. And he had to admit, she was a rather funny person. She had a sharp tongue, a razor wit, and a flare for the melodramatic. Tarrin was alot closer to accepting her than Camara Tal, though he didn't entirely trust her yet. She didn't impose on him or push him or make him feel uncomfortable anymore. She simply talked, made jokes, and quietly worked herself back into Tarrin and Allia's good graces.
Eleven days after leaving the Tears, the Dancer found itself coming out of a light shower. A strong tailwind pushed the ship along, emanating from the gentle rainstorm, sending them faster and faster towards their goal. Tarrin was at the rail with his bow, shooting arrows in long, arcing trajectories towards small targets that hovered some three hundred paces away. Each shot took time, because of the winds and the distance involved, but he was always very close. He hit four shots out of every five. It didn't take him long to get back into form with his bow, but he still didn't feel as comfortable with it as he had at one time. The annoying pain of holding the human form was one thing that distracted him, as well as the twinge he felt at turning his back to Camara Tal to shoot over the rail. She was too far away to make him feel threatened, but that thought was always in the back of his mind.
"Look, a rainbow!" Sarraya said in wonder, flitting up to his side and pointing back to the stern. "Isn't it pretty?"
"They say that the woman who can find the end of the rainbo
w will have her heart's wish granted," Camara Tal mused as she came up beside the human-shaped Tarrin and looked at the rainbow.
"I know what you'd wish for," the Faerie said in a wicked tone. "A man that never gets tired."
"I'd settle for just getting my husband back," she sighed, a bit forlornly.
"Which one?"
"I may have more than one husband, but only one counts, bug," she replied. "The others are political marriages. I barely see them. They all have their own concubines, so they don't really need me."
Tarrin saw Phandebrass and Dar on the other side. Phandebrass was pointing at the rainbow, his arms making gestures as he prattled on to the young Arkisian. Dar seemed fascinated with whatever he was saying.
"A man is a man," Sarraya dug. "Especially when it's multiple choice. Do you line them up at night, or is it first come, first serve?"
"You're very close to getting your wings ripped off," Camara Tal snapped at the Faerie, putting a finger the size of the sprite's leg in her face.
"I thought you said marrying Koran Dar was political," Tarrin said. He had no doubt which husband to which she was referring. He was the only one beyond her reach.
"It was arranged, it wasn't a political marriage. We were married when we reached the age of adulthood. I really liked Koran, so I had my mother get him for me."
Tarrin Kael Firestaff Collection Book 2 - The Questing Game by Fel © Page 83
