James Galloway - The Tower of Sorcery

"Wikuni," he said calmly, quickly, aware that she stood right behind him, "give me your slipper."

"What? I-"

"Don't argue!" he snapped in a sibilant hiss. "Just give it to me!"

Lifting a foot with a mutter, she reached down and removed her slipper, then handed it to him. "I don't see what-"

She cut herself off as Tarrin reared back and then threw it into the room with considerable force, squeezing it through a hole in the gate, and managing to strike the figure square in the back. The throw had enough to stagger the form forward, until its foot crossed the line and into the dark circle that marked the boundary of that Conduit Ahiriya said was there.

It gave a keening cry, like the sound of wind howling through the treetops, a horrid sound that made Tarrin's ears stand straight up, then try to fold in on themselves to block it out. Then the form of Jesmind vanished in a whirlwind of dark clouds. But the whirlwind seemed to falter, as the magical power inside the Conduit charged whatever it was that had been hiding behind Jesmind's appearance. The magical energy rushed into it, making it glow, and showing Tarrin its form. It was some kind of odd creature seemingly made out of the air itself, and its shaped altered wildly as it writhed and convulsed in the magical vortex that was the Conduit. It gave another keen, until a sudden blast of wind lashed out from inside the glowing area as the figure itself discorporated.

Shielding his eyes from the sudden hot wind, he heard the Wikuni gasp behind him as the hot wind passed them by and blew faint dust down the hall. "What was that!" she demanded in a slightly shocked voice, a voice held under tight control.

"I don't know," Tarrin replied.

"How did you know it wasn't, well, whatever it was?"

"It had no scent," he replied calmly.

She blinked, giving him a curious look. Tarrin noticed that those amber eyes were clear and totally lucid. They were…calculating, and they took in Tarrin from top to bottom, as if by that one glance, the Wikuni could work out the inner motives of his deepmost self. As if she was reassessing her opinion of him. Her look made him do the same thing. This Wikuni was more than she appeared.

"What in the Pit was that?" a voice called. Tarrin and the Wikuni both turned to look, to see two of the three from the baths, the man and the blond woman, standing in the hallway with towels wrapped around themselves.

"We don't know," the Wikuni said in her normal imperious tone. "Some kind of glowing ball thing got our attention, so we came down here to look at it. When we got here, it gave off that horrid sound and then just popped."

"Strange," the woman hummed, tapping her lower lip with a delicate finger. "I-nevermind, you're Initiates. I'll be able to find you. I'll be asking you about this later today, when I have a chance to find you. I want to know what that sound was."

"Why not now?" the Wikuni demanded in an impetuous tone.

"Because I'm standing here wearing a towel," she replied. "And that's Mistress to you, Initiate."

"M-Mistress," the Wikuni said gratingly, having to all but wrap her mouth around the word.

"Now go get out of that wet dress, and for the Goddess' sake, comb out your fur," she ordered. "You look like a drowned rat."

The Wikuni stamped her foot with a huffing sound escaping her lips as the two Sorcerers went back down the staircase. "I do not look like a drowned rat!" she said hotly.

"Actually, you do," Tarrin said in a calm voice, totally devoid of amusement.

"Well thank you, mister messenger!" she snapped at him. "It's your fault I'm standing here getting dye in my fur!"

Tarrin glanced at her, a sneaking suspicion dawning in his mind. "You can drop the act," he said. "I saw your eyes. There's no way you can be that smart and that stupid at the same time."

She seemed about to give him what-for, then she scratched the back of her head and laughed ruefully. "You can, if you pay attention to what you're doing," she relayed in a calm, conversational tone. "Most people wouldn't catch a slip that small. And I usually wouldn't make such a slip, but you surprised me."

"Slip?"

"Why, I'm the Brat Princess," she told him with a cheeky grin. A grin that showed her very sharp teeth. "Didn't you know that?"

"It seemed fairly obvious to me," he drawled, "but I don't see the need for it."

"You would, if you understood the situation," she sighed. "It is something of a secret, Tarrin. I spent a great deal of time convincing everyone I'm an empty-headed shill. I don't need you to go behind me and ruin that."

Nothing sparked Tarrin's curiosity more than a mystery, and here was a living one. The thought that she had to act like a brat intrigued him to no end, and his mind whirled with possible explanations. "We have time," he said.

"I'm wet and look a drowned rat," she chuckled. "I don't have as much time as you. Sunrise isn't far off, and I have to be ready. We'll talk-oh yes, we'll talk, but it will have to be later. Just promise me that you won't give me away."

"I won't," he said. "After the dunking I gave you, you have a perfect excuse to avoid me. So there won't be any more slips."

"True. I like the way you think," she agreed with that same toothy grin. "In fact, I'll absolutely loathe you for what you did, but since you're so, well…"

"Direct?"

"Yes, direct. That's the word I needed. Since you're so direct, I'll be too afraid of you to push things. The Brat Princess is a whining self-centered poppinjay, and she likes to hurt people that slight her, but she's a coward. She wouldn't risk you hurting her." Even her manner was different. Tarrin could see it in her, how she moved. She moved with a stately confidence that belied the impression that he had of her, although there was a certain tension in her, as if she was afraid to act true to her real nature in front of him. She was obviously able to submerge herself in her role as the Brat Princess so completely that she could literally take on an entirely new set of mannerisms. This was not a spoiled whining little egotistical brat. This was an intelligent, cunning, calculating young woman that seemed a bit haunted and somewhat defensive. No doubt for the reasons that she pretended to be so much less than what she actually was.

"I'll keep your secret, Wikuni," he promised. "Just be careful around me."

"Keritanima," she said. "My name is Keritanima. Keritanima-Chan Eram, Jewel of the Western Star, Lady of the 20 Seas, Bearer of the 5 Bands of Nan, Holder of the Ring of Bakul, Crown Princess of Wikuna. And don't you forget it," she added with a playful banter, a sly smile curling the corner of her maw.

Tarrin chuckled in spite of himself. "Until I hear it about three hundred times, I think I will," he admitted.

"Trust me. You'll know it by heart by the end of the day," she winked.

Tarrin actually laughed. "I take it I'm in for a very long day?"

"Everyone in my class will be," she grinned. "I have a reputation to maintain, after all, so I have to make a very memorable first impression."

"I'd better warn Allia," he chuckled. "And you'd better not annoy her until after I have a chance to explain things to her. She's even more direct than I am."

"I'll remember," she promised. "Just don't tell her about me."

"I'll figure out a way to explain it," he told her.

At sunrise, there were eight young men and women standing outside Master Brel's office. Tarrin had spent the time eating and waiting thinking about the strange encounter, with the whirlwind creature. Not three days after he returned, another attempt was made on him. He had no doubt that it was an attempt. No doubt that going into the chamber and facing what looked like Jesmind would have meant his death. It was yet another strange magical creature, something which he had no idea what it was. He'd have to ask Dolanna, when he next saw her. Dolanna's knowledge of magical beasties was very impressive.