James Galloway - The Tower of Sorcery

"Much," the Vendari agreed. "Her Highness needs us, and we must help as we can."

Miranda sighed. Keritanima would not be happy about this. "Do me a favor and go get Jervis, Sisska," she said. "It's time that we had a little talk."

"It is about time," Sisska said bluntly, picking up her massive two-handed axe and setting it on her shoulder, then going out the door. Miranda bolted it behind her, fingering a small dagger she had at her belt.

Ahiriya was becoming an inconvenience. Jervis would listen to her, Miranda was sure of it. They may be at odds from time to time, but at the moment, they were working towards a common goal. She was sure that Jervis would agree to her little plan to get at the truth.

The truth was all that mattered.

Keritanima had taught her well, and unknown to her Royal employer, Miranda did alot more than she would ever know. Talking with Jervis wouldn't be the first time that the cute little mink Wikuni had acted outside her employer's knowledge, but it was always for Keritanima's good. Miranda took Keritanima's well being seriously. It was her duty, it was her role as protector, friend, and confidante.

It was her reason for living.

To: Title EoF

There was a bit of anxiety wound up in what they were doing, but on the other hand, there was also an undeniable excitement about it.

Tarrin sat sedately on his haunches in the sand near one of the posts, his eyes scanning the dim, misty night, a night that promised frost. His small cat body blended with the shadows of the post, making his sleek black fur blend into the night and turn him into nothing but a pair of intense green eyes. Heavy clouds dimmed the usual light from the moons and Skybands, clouds that helped keep the warmth of the land trapped against it. Clouds that would only work in their favor. Humans had long adapted to the light of the Skybands at night, and when clouds covered the land and threw them into total darkness, they had a great deal of trouble seeing. Even with torches and artificial light. But to Tarrin's night-sighted eyes, the landscape was illuminated by light that the human eye couldn't see, or was too dim for it to use. The field and grass were painted in black, white and gray to his eyes, for it was too dim to see in color, but that black and white view of the world was every bit as sharp as it would have been if the sun was shining down on him. He could see Keritanima's stealthy approach, her feet not even disturbing the grass.

As could Allia. His sister was behind the post, keeping watch. She wore a pair of black trousers and shirt that Miranda brought to her at sunset, and her bright silver hair was bound into a black cloth and tied into a wrapped tail behind her. Her dusky skin helped her fade into the murky shadows. Allia's eyesight was her most dangerous weapon, for she could read an open book from one hundred paces away, and her night sight was just as acute as Tarrin's was. She was shepa , Scout, for her clan, for her unusual eyesight wasn't normal for her people, but did occur with enough frequency for the Selani to have a special word for her type.

Keritanima was an entirely different person. Gone was the meticulous dress and carefully groomed appearance. She wore black trousers, shirt, and boots just like the ones she had sent to Allia, and large leather bracers were tied around her forearms. A black cloth was over her head, with holes cut in it for her fox ears, and her russet hair was tied at the tip of its tail to keep it behind her. Where Keritanima looked soft and pretty before, she looked sleek and deadly in her skulking garb, for it clung to her slim form and accented her in ways her dress never could. Also gone was the vapid expression of the Brat, or the calculating expression of the Keritanima he knew. In its place was a woman with dancing eyes, fully enjoying the danger to come, who moved with the grace of a cat even while those amber eyes took in everything around her.

Tarrin shapeshifted absently as she reached them, and her gloved hands started moving in the Selani Code, the hand-language her people had developed. That put Allia back on her heels. The Selani didn't teach that to outsiders. -Alright, are we all ready?- her hands asked.

– How did you learn that!- Allia's hands asked with a snapping motion that betrayed her disbelief.

– Sister, there's very little that the Wikuni don't know,- Keritanima replied with a smirk. -I was taught the Code at the same time I was taught the spoken tongue. It was so I'd have an advantage when dealing with Selani.-

– That's quite an advantage,- Tarrin noted.

– This is the first time I've ever used it. I was afraid I was getting rusty.-

– You are,- Tarrin noted.

She glared at him. -Let's move. We're on a tight schedule.-

One thing Tarrin had to admit. She may be a Princess, she may be smart, but she moved like Allia. Keritanima's flowing movements made absolutely no sound, and her flowing style produced no sharp movements that tended to attract the eyes, even when the eyes couldn't see. That she could alter the very way she moved, seemingly at will, was yet another example of just how remarkable she was. Keritanima was always graceful, but the perfect ease in which she moved without making a whisper of sound made her grace in a dress look like a cow trying to two-step by comparison.

They reached the fence without incident, having to wait for a few moments for them to move between the roving patrols, and they moved with quiet, efficient stealth. Tarrin first heaved Allia up and over, then tried to be gentle as he pushed Keritanima's foot as she lept off of his boost. But he realized that there was no reason to be gentle with her. She landed on her feet on the far side of the fence, then expertly tucked in and rolled through her momentum to prevent injury. She knew what she was doing.

After squirming through the fence, they were off. The city of Suld never truly slept, but the night streets were not nearly as crowded as they were during the day, and that allowed Keritanima to lead them unerringly towards the Hammer Cathedral. She had memorized a map of the city streets, and it allowed her to guide them on empty streets and through dark alleys, staying out of sight from anyone who may want to watch or follow.

They stopped to wait for a trio of drunken Wikuni to stagger down the street, hiding in the shadows of an alley. The lamps on poles that illuminated the street kept them back a bit in the alley, out of the direct light, and the rough voices of the sailors echoed on the walls lining the street. From behind the wall, faint sounds of giggling could be heard.

"Someone's having a good time," Keritanima whispered in a chuckle.

"Let's hope they stay focused on what they're doing," Tarrin whispered back. "There's a window right over us."

"Well, I guess that'll depend on him," the Wikuni said with a wink.

"You never had to fight off Jesmind," Tarrin replied absently.

"I certainly am glad of that," Keritanima said with a grin.

Tarrin gave her a look, then snorted.

"They are gone," Allia whispered from behind. "Let us move."

The Hammer Cathedral was surrounded by a large iron fence, much in the same way as the grounds of the Tower were. But this fence only came up to Tarrin's waist, a decorative boundary, and its simple gatehouse and gate, which were more normal sized, were neither ornate nor functional. Tarrin didn't understand why full sized gates were placed on a fence an eldery woman could climb over. They went over that fence directly across from the servant's entrance, but had to hide behind a row of small trees while armed men wearing the livery of the church marched by. The huge sculpture of the Scales of Justice were visible to his night-sighted eyes not far away, and he took a moment to be impressed by them. The pans hung from chains as thick as his leg, and the stand from which they were suspended towered of the large hammer-shaped building which rested beside it. Each pan had to be twenty spans across, and they hung perfectly level with each other. It was said that a single raindrop could make the scales dip to a side, so perfectly balanced they were, but they never did. His father had told him the legend of the scales, that only living things placed upon them made them move. They were used to try criminals against the church, where the power of Karas pronounced judgement on the accused by placing them in the scales. If the accused was guilty, the scale dipped. If he was innocent, the scale rose.