James Galloway - The Tower of Sorcery

"Alright, Tarrin, try it again," the Keeper said.

"No," he snapped. "I felt you try twice, and you couldn't stop it. If you didn't know, that hurts . I'm not going to torture myself just so you can study me." He felt the Cat rise in his mind, and a sudden irrational fear began to choke off his reasoning. He had no idea where it came from, but it was incredibly powerful. It was all he could do to stop himself from jumping off the table.

"Tarrin, you have to trust us," the Keeper said in a reasoning tone. "We can't help you until we have a complete understanding of what's wrong. If you let us try again, we could succeed this time." He felt them all join into a circle, and the Keeper's body almost began to glow in a white aura to his eyes. She was the lead of the circle. How he knew that, he had no idea. "Now, one more time," she said. "Try it again."

That they joined in a circle meant something. Perhaps joined, they could control the power. Tarrin pushed that irrational fear away enough to get a center on himself, then reached out and touched the Weave.

Almost instantly, he was overwhelmed by power. There was more of it, and it came faster and harder than it did before. Thought disintigrated before that tidal wave of power, and only sensation told him that something was trying to stop the energy. But again, to no avail. The incoming power simply flowed around the attempt to block it, overwhelming it, pulling it into him.

And in the instant it was carried into him, Tarrin was forcibly joined to their circle.

He felt an expansion of consciousness as his own power and even his mind reached out and made a connection to a greater whole. The Group Consciousness of a circle. And in that fleeting moment, he understood several fundamental truths. Sorcerers could join in circles no larger than seven, for an eighth member with a similarly structured mind created a permanent group consciousness, a mass mind that existed independent of the bodies of the Sorcerers involved, an amalgamation of the personalities of the victims. And when the circle was broken, the mass mind faded away, leaving the linked Sorcerers nothing but empty shells.

But that mass mind was formed because of the similarities between the minds of those forming the circle. Seven humans, who thought in similar ways, could form a safe circle, but eight would push the similarities over that intangible border, and create a permanent mass mind. Tarrin was not human, and because of that, human weaves of mind couldn't affect him. The human mind could not comprehend the way his mind worked, and thus could not affect his thoughts. But Tarrin's dissimilar mind joined to a circle of seven and made it eight.

And the dissimilarity of his mind prevented the formation of a permanent mass mind.

In that glimmer, he understood why the Ancients could do what legends said they could do. The Sha'Kar had been living then, and the Sha'Kar were not human. The Ancients could safely join into circles larger than seven. He wasn't sure of how the actual mechanics of it worked, but it was now obvious that the Ancients could join into circles of at least eight. And who knew what limit the Ancients truly had? Perhaps they could form circles with a specific arrangement that allowed even a hundred Sorcerers to combine their powers into one massive effort. A circle of a hundred Sorcerers with the power of the Ancients could move mountains. That was how they earned their reputation.

In joining into the circle, Tarrin had wrested control of it away from the Keeper. He felt the power flooding into him dissipate into the other seven, reducing the burden it was placing on his body, returning rational thought into his mind. He had never been in a circle before, and the sudden intrusion of the alien minds into his consciousness caused the Cat to instantly and savagely react, pushing the unknown thoughts away with such force that it disrupted the tenuous bonds that kept them linked in a circle.

Instead of a violent tearing away from the Weave, Tarrin simply let it go. But the backlash he had suffered the first time was now placed fully on the Council, as the power inside them evaporated like smoke and caused that shockwave of pain. The Keeper almost fell over backwards in her chair, and the little blond Water Seat fainted dead away. The remaining six all had looks of agony on their faces, which passed quickly into holding their heads in pain.

"What just happened?" Ahiriya groaned.

"Tarrin somehow got into the circle," the burly Earth Seat managed to say. "His Were-cat mind disrupted it. And a good thing too, else we would all be dead."

He hadn't understood it the way Tarrin had, he realized. How could they miss it? It was so obvious . But Tarrin said nothing. The less they knew, the better it would be for him.

"Why do I hurt?" Koran Dar said in a voice not too much like a sailor with a hangover.

"I think we're feeling the backlash Tarrin felt the first time," Amelyn said groggily. "With us linked to him, he pushed it onto us. Goddess, Tarrin, if this is what you felt, then I won't ask you to do it again."

That earned a bit of respect in his mind. His opinion of Amelyn had just improved by several degrees.

"We can't try that again until we research how it happened," the Keeper grunted, rubbing her temple. "Tarrin, what did you feel?"

"I'm not sure," he replied. "There was the rush, then I felt something connect to me, and then my instincts attacked it as an invader," he replied. "I didn't suffer a backlash this time."

"That's because we suffered it for you," the Keeper grunted. "But I have to agree with Amelyn. If this is what you feel, then we can't ask you to keep doing it. We'll go speak with the Lorefinders and see if there's a less painful way for you to try to get a grip on your power."

"I appreciate that, Keeper," he said calmly. He knew that the only reason she said that was because now she was at risk to suffer his pain. Him suffering was just fine, until she had to share in his agony. Then it was unacceptable. "May I go now? I don't think we'll be doing anything else."

"No, I think not. Go on. Just get some rest, there's no telling how that backlash will affect you."

"Thank you," he said calmly, getting down from the table, and leaving without a word.

That had been important, in more ways than one. Tarrin had received a hint of the ancient secrets, lost to the katzh-dashi since the Breaking. The true secret of the Ancients' power had been partially revealed.

And the Council had completely missed it. Then again, Tarrin had the feeling that in that instant, he was the only one of them that was coherent, so he alone could understand the forces at work on all eight of them.

He had to talk this out with Keritanima. The Wikuni's intellect and ability to reason were needed.

What Tarrin got was both Keritanima and Dar. When it was time for all the other Initiates to get out of class, Tarrin wandered over to Keritanima's room, and found her in the company of Dar. They were sitting in her room at the table, chatting idly while playing a game called chess. It was a Wikuni game that had become popular in the western kingdoms, because it required even more strategy than stones, and the lead-cast figurines used to play the game were easy to make. Miranda was sitting sedately on the bed, working on some embroidery, and Sisska and Binter stood vigil beside the door, protecting the Royal person. Tarrin nodded to Binter and Sisska as he entered, and Miranda flashed him a cheeky smile, unleashing her undenyable cuteness upon him. She was sitting with her long, very bushy tail curled up around her ankles, to keep the luxuriantly furred appendage out from underfoot. Her tail was the same yellow color as her hair, something of an oddity among Wikuni. Usually, a Wikuni with fur had colorings that matched their brother or sister animal. Keritanima was a perfect example, for her fur perfectly matched the distinct patterns of a fox, even down to her ears, hands and feet, and tail. Miranda's tail should have been white, like her fur, but it was instead yellow, the color of her hair.