"Well, she did say that, but it never occurred to me," he said sheepishly.
"You must practice, Tarrin. You must practice shapeshifting, and you must learn more about Sorcery. Even if you cannot use it, you must continue your education in its operation. You cannot spend your days sleeping. You have wasted two entire months, and we do not have the leisure to take our time."
"I just didn't feel much like practicing, Dolanna," he said, absently ducking under a boom. "I've had alot of things on my mind lately."
"That is not an excuse," she told him flatly. "Training and practice is a discipline, not a exercise. You must train yourself to practice every day, no matter how you feel."
"Well, I'll admit to that, but I don't really want to learn any more Sorcery," he told her. "Not until I can use it."
"Why not? You can improve without the actual need to touch the Weave."
"That's exactly why I don't want to learn," he told her. "If I start learning Sorcery again, it will make me want to touch the Weave. And that's a risk I can't take, not unless something serious depends on the outcome."
She looked at him a moment. "Yes. I guess you are right. It would be frustrating to learn about something that can be dangerous for you, even when you want to practice with it."
"Exactly."
"Alright, you may forego training in Sorcery until we can devise a compromise. But you should practice your shapeshifting every day. You should try to hold the human form as long as possible every day, at least once a day. I think you will find that your ability to tolerate the discomfort will improve, and you will be able to hold the form longer and longer."
"I'll start with it today, Dolanna," he promised.
"You should talk to Allia," she said. "The Selani are very skilled in mental discipline. She may be able to teach you Selani techniques to help deal with the pain. It may increase your ability to tolerate it."
"That's a good idea," he agreed, nodding.
"Oh, and a private question."
"What?"
"Keritanima left this book in my quarters this morning. I thought it to be just one in her collection, but within was the strangest thing. It looked to be a tutorial on learning a foreign language, one which I have never seen before. Do you know of this book?"
Tarrin's eyes widened, and his tail stood staight out.
"I think you do know of this mysterious book," she said with a sly smile, presenting the book to him. "I would very much like to be privy to this, discovery, Tarrin. I think I know what that book holds, but I would hear it from you first."
"It's a primer to learn the language of the Sha'Kar," he told her in a very low voice. "We discovered the original during our plans to escape from Suld, and Keritanima had Miranda transcribe them into this book. We learned how to speak it, but we still haven't managed to learn the written language yet, because it's so strange. I'll bet that's why Kerri brought the book. She's been working on it for a long time now."
"That is what I suspected," she said. "I am amazed that the three of you managed to find something that every Sorcerer in the world has strove to discover for a thousand years."
"We knew where to look," Tarrin grunted.
"Where was that?"
"In the Cathedral of Karas," he replied.
She looked at him, then she laughed ruefully. "Of course. They would have lore about their ancient enemies, would they not? I take it that that was why Keritanima had the plans of the Cathedral? So the three of you could infiltrate it and find this hidden knowledge?"
He nodded. "We stole alot more than the primer, but we don't have it with us. It's hidden back in the Tower."
"What information is that?"
"Assorted stuff," he replied. "Kerri was the one that went through it, but even she didn't look very hard. She was too excited over finding the primer. Once she found that, she stopped looking at everything else."
"I can imagine," Dolanna mused. "Why did you not tell me this, Tarrin?"
"I guess because it never occurred to me," he said. "That information is tied up a great deal in the very personal issues me and my sisters have with each other. I guess I considered it too private to share, even with you."
"Well, I cannot fault you your loyalty," she sighed. "But to think that all this time, this wonderful tome has lain within my reach. Had I only discovered it sooner!" She handed the precious book to Tarrin. "I think you should return this to Keritanima. And have a talk with her," she said with a smile. "I get the feeling that she left this in my cabin on purpose."
"Why?"
"Because Keritanima the Brat was flighty and erratic, but Keritanima the Princess is a very calculating and careful woman," she replied. "She would not leave something so vital laying about on purpose. I think she wanted me to find it."
"Maybe," he grunted. "Not that it matters now."
"I will see you later, Tarrin. Remember to practice."
Tarrin stood there a moment, looking down at the book. He had no idea that she even brought it, that she would risk it. But it was the one. He opened it and looked at Miranda's exacting, precise writing, and he wondered just what in the furies Keritanima was up to. Dolanna was right, she would never leave this book laying around for anyone to pick up. But was it an honest accident, or was it Keritanima playing intigue again?
Well, there was a very easy way to find out. He approached the Wikuni from where she was standing off against the panther-Wikuni, Sheba, without fear. As he approached, he heard the subtle,wicked barbs pass between them. It was apparent that they didn't like each other.
"Kerri, we have to talk," he said when he reached them, putting a paw on her arm.
"It'll--"
"Now," he said adamantly.
"Oh, very well," she said, submitting to that tone of voice.
"I see the cat has the owner on a leash," Sheba said with a sneering grin, looking right at him with her green eyes, so much like his own.
Without batting an eyelash, Tarrin grabbed the pirate by the front of her shirt, then hauled her up off the deck. He turned and swung her out over the rail, holding her at arm's length over the water with an ease that made it seem he was holding a coil of rope rather than a full-grown woman. "Maybe you'd like to swim for shore," he said in a dangerous voice.
She grabbed his wrist in both hands and gave him a nervous look, though she was trying to keep up her fearless front. "I'm sure it would be good exercise, but I don't think I'm up for it right now," she managed to say, in a surprisingly steady voice.
Tarrin had to supress the sudden, powerful urge to just drop her. He dragged her back onto the deck, then tossed her down with a negligent flick of the paw. She sat down hard and looked up at him, her eyes flashing in anger and outrage, but the lethal look in his own eyes cowed her immediately.
"That's quite an arm you've got there, Tarrin," she said, giving him a false smile. "I'm sure you'd play a killer game of wicket."
"And I'm sure you'd love being the ball," Keritanima dug, getting a hostile look from the seated Wikuni. "Come on, Tarrin. I'm sure that Sheba has run out of things to say. Her memory isn't quite that deep."
Sheba glared murderously at the princess, but she led Tarrin away by the arm. "What did you want?" Without saying a word, he handed the book back to her. "Oh yes, this. Did Dolanna find it?"
"And she looked right through your little game," he told her bluntly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm stuck, brother," she said sourly in Selani. "I can't crack the Sha'Kar language. I need help, and Dolanna is very educated. After I teach her the spoken language, I think she can help me decipher the written language. I wasn't sure if you and Allia would approve of adding her to our rather tight inner circle, so I did it the other way."
"You should have asked us."
"I know, but I absolutely need Dolanna, brother," she said defensively. "If you or Allia said no, then I would have had to break your trust. At least this way, you'll only be mad at me a while. If I'd have had to do it the other way, you'd b
e mad at me for years."
"If you would have made that clear, then I doubt Allia would have said no," he told her chidingly. "Allia trusts Dolanna. So do I."
"I know, but I guess you can't change a Wikuni's fur."
"Maybe the Wikuni should look into trusting her siblings."
"That was low, Tarrin," she said sourly in Common.
"Perhaps, but it was the truth," he replied bluntly. "I didn't know you even brought the book. I thought you left it in Suld."
"No way!" she said adamantly in Sha'Kar. That she would switch to that language made it apparent how serious she wanted to be about privacy. That he could understand it so easily was a testament to how well she taught him. "I can't stop 'til I find the answers, brother, and that means that the book stays with me. Don't worry, I sleep with it under my pillow, and if I don't have it, then Binter or Sisska does. Nobody will take it from them."
"That makes my head spin," Kern said gruffly as he approached from behind. They both turned to look at him.
"What does, captain?" Keritanima asked in Common.
"How you three always bounce around in languages," he replied. "It makes my ears burn."
"Some insults carry more impact in their native tongues, Kern," Tarrin said dryly, which made the grizzled old captain chuckle.
"I'm teaching my brother Wikuni too," Keritnaima winked. "That way we can insult each other on even more levels of subtlety. If you want to insult someone, then use Wikuni. The language was designed for it."
Kern laughed. "I speak a word or two of it, if only to not let Wikuni traders get the drop on me," he admitted. "But I'd appreciate it if ye didn't bandy that about. Wikuni don't like dealing with people who can understand how badly they're cheating them."
"I didn't know that," Tarrin said as Kern ambled away.
"What?"
"That I'm learning Wikuni."
"Well, you are now," she grinned. "I feel jealous that Allia taught you her language, but you still haven't learned mine."
"You never offered to teach it. Now that I think of it, I've never heard you speak it."
"That's because Wikuni usually don't use it unless only other Wikuni are around to hear it. We're like the Selani, we like to keep our language somewhat secret. It helps us cheat others."
Tarrin chuckled. "I knew all Wikuni were pirates at heart."
"Not pirates, traders. Pirates are people who can't haggle, so they're forced to earn a living the dirty way."
"Same difference," he teased.
"Believe it or not, we use Common in Wikuna almost as often as Wikuni. Our kingdom has sorta become bilingual. We teach Common to our children at the same time they learn Wikuni, because they'll eventually be dealing with people that don't speak Wikuni, and it always puts your potential trade victim at ease if you speak his language fluently. Speaking Wikuni is saved for personal dealings, and we use it for all official court functions and ceremonies."
"That's why they made you learn all the native tongues of your trade allies," he realized.
"Exactly. So I could put them at ease, then rake them over the coals with trade treaties," she winked.
"It explains why you're so fluent too. Allia still has trouble expressing herself in Common, and Dolanna always sounds so formal. You have an accent, but it sounds more like a regional dialect than a non-speaker's accent."
"Yup," she agreed. "I'm used to speaking Common on a regular basis, so it makes me sound much more natural using it."
"Do you speak Shacèan?"
"Certainly. They're strong trade allies with Wikuna. They're the only kingdom we sell gunpowder to." She glanced at him. "I take it we're done talking about this?" she asked, holding up the book.
"Not much we can do about it now," he said. "We should tell Allia about it. And if we explain the reason behind it well enough, she'll agree that it was necessary. But she won't like you acting without letting us know first, Kerri. Believe me, I get that from her enough as it is. Expect her to be mad at you for a while."
"Like I said, better a little mad than alot of mad."
The night was clear, crisp, and cool. The Skybands and the four moons, all slivers of light in the sky, competed with the brilliant stars to illuminate the night. Nights were never fully dark on Sennadar, except when the clouds concealed the sky.
The night sang to him, in ways that the others would never understand.
Tarrin stood at the bow, to get as much of the ship out of his view as possible, and stared up into the night sky, his mind carried along by the song of instinct, the sounds of the sea, the smell of salt water and the hint of ground and earth carried in the air. Cats were nocturnal creatures, always more active at night than during the day. It made it hard to sleep at night, and often he wound find himself doing just what he was doing, staring up at the night sky and communing with the forces that shaped his life. It was usually an intensely private practice, something he didn't even share with his sisters, because they couldn't fathom its importance to him or how it made him feel. The night was his time, the time of the hunter, when the cloak of darkness enshrouded the land and allowed him to move in utter stealth and harmony with his environment.
Of course, the ship was not the kind of place for that. All the rats were long gone, hunted to extinction by Tarrin's nightly prowls, leaving the hunter with no prey, and nowhere to feel completely at ease. So he stood at the bow, staring up into the night sky, knowing that the sky would look the same whether he was standing on a ship or staring up at the sky through a break in the forest canopy. It allowed him to forget, if only for a little while, where he was and what he was doing. It allowed him to ignore the constant nagging of his instincts to run to the forest, to take up his rightful place in nature. It allowed him to feel what he was in a crystalline clarity that often was unattainable when outside of what he considered to be his own environment.
It was the night, and it was his time. He was a creature of the night. He was the night. Too long, he had forgotten who he was and where he was supposed to be. Too long, it had been since the last time he had succumbed to the powerful instincts inside him and allowed them to join to his human consciousness seamlessly and without struggle. Too long, had he turned his back on his kind.
Too long, he had been aboard the cursed ship.
Tomorrow they were supposed to get to Dayisè, and it would probably be in the rain. The front line was barely a mile behind them, moving slowly as it chased the ship that day, an abrupt beginning of cloud that separated the sky. He could smell the rain when the wind gusted from behind them, smell that it was a steady rain that farmers enjoyed, a rain that would last for a whole day and methodically saturate everything exposed to it. He would be on dry land. It would be among people, and it would only be an island, but it would be enough. Two months trapped on this moving prison had nearly been more than he could stand. Only the presence of his sisters, Dolanna, and Miranda had kept him calm enough to endure it. Tomorrow would be a reprieve, a temporary stay of his punishment, where he could put his feet on soft earth and feel the wind in his hair, smell the scents of life once again. Even if they were going to be smothered in the miasma of a foul-smelling city.
Dolanna's warning was still in the forefront of his mind, but it would be worth the risk. They may run into danger, but better to face danger than be pinned aboard the vessel for another day.
Looking up into the night sky, Tarrin's mind wandered. He wondered how his family was doing in Dusgaard. He hoped that his little mother was doing alright. He worried for Tiella and Walten, who were still in the Tower. He wondered how Sevren was doing, trying to discover the spy within the Tower. He feared for Aldreth, over the rumors that the Dal army had marched over his home village. He hoped Jesmind was well, wherever she may be.
Jesmind. It had been a long time since he'd thought about her. Part of the reason was because an idle thought of her conjured up more and more thoughts and memories. There was a great deal of emotion tied up with his fiery-tempered bond mother
, both positive and negative. And though it seemed strange to him, even the bad memories could make him smile. He understood her better now, understood what she was trying to do. He missed her. Even when they were enemies, he had a great deal of respect for her, and he looked up to her. Few women--few living beings--could match her raw ferocity when fighting, a ferocity that could intimidate anyone. She was fierce in everything she did, from fighting to looking for dinner to making conversation. She attacked life, subdued it, lived every day as if it was both her first and her last.
He doubted he would ever see her again. He walked a different path, a path that would take him well away from his own kind, and it was a path fraught with danger. He didn't know if he would live much longer. And if he didn't, then so be it. He was more concerned about his friends and family than himself, and so long as they were alright, then he was content. They mattered more to him than him.
Sprinkles of rain began to patter onto the deck. He loved the night, but he hated getting wet. It was time to go below.
Tomorrow was a new day.
Chapter 4
"Incredible," Dar mused.
The city of Dayisè was presented for them dead ahead, and it was amazing. The city was situated on a large island, and it spilled over onto two smaller islands that were very close to the first. The three islands were ringed by a large network of small rock spires and islets, creating a natural breakwater that protected ships from stormy seas. The central island had a large hill at its center, and built onto the sides of that hill were some of the most extravagant and fanciful estates and homes Tarrin had ever seen. There were even two huge stone bridges that spanned from the center island to the smaller ones, spanning so high that a galleon could pass under it without losing its mast. Like Den Gauche and Roulet, Dayisè's skyline was absolutely dominated by red, from the red tiles that they used to roof their homes and buildings. Those buildings stood like trees in some vast forest, totally dominating the three islands upon which they rested.
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