James Galloway - The Tower of Sorcery

Tarrin realized that he was curious about Sorcery, even interested in it, but it wasn't the focus of his life. Then again, with all the chaos in his life, there wasn't a real way he could get interested in something. He was too busy trying to keep his sanity and keep himself alive. Thoughts of survival dominated most of his pondering, thoughts of discovering what was going on, who was trying to kill him, and why he was so bloody important. If they were to treat him like anyone else, Tarrin had the feeling that, were he not in such a situation, he would leave at the end of the Initiate rather than staying to become katzh-dashi . As long as they taught him how to keep from killing himself, he was content. His interest in Sorcery of late was simple self-preservation, to find a way to get around his control problem so that his power would be useful to the others when it came time for them to flee.

The sight of the ornate iron fence ended his musings, as Allia raced over the cobblestones and gently set him down. He already understood what needed to be done, as Binter approached from the shadows of an empty guardpost. He shapeshifted back into his humanoid form, the three sacks appearing in his paws, set two down, and then lobbed the third over the fence to Binter. He did it twice more, throwing the sack of scrolltubes very gently, then helped Allia and Keritanima over the fence. After they were safely over, they all dashed for cover with the sacks, because torchlight began to brighten further down the line. A patrol was coming. Tarrin went back into his cat form and darted into a shadowy corner across the cobblestone street from the fence. Tarrin watched the squad of eight men file by at a leisurely pace, then he came back out as they disappeared around the corner of a storehouse some hundred paces away. Once it was safe, Tarrin pulled off his leather shirt and used it to get across the Ward, then picked it up and put it back on as he hurried to rejoin his companions. Keritanima was grinning like the cat that got into the cream, and Allia wore that same expresionless, cool expression that she always wore. Very little got her excited. That was one thing he really liked about her. Keritanima was mercurial, but Allia was methodical and dependable, as solid as the mountain stone.

Tarrin took over the task of carrying the books when he reached them, and Binter was sent back to the Wikuni's room with a few curt gestures. Where Binter was, the Princess was, and that was a ploy that kept people's eyes away from her more than once. The trio of conspirators flitted across the grounds like ghosts, moving without attracting the attention of the guards, and easily entered the magically warmed air of the gardens and disappeared into the hedgerow maze.

Keritanima breathed an explosive sigh of relief as soon as the living walls of the maze surrounded them. "I was so worried we were going to get busted right before we made the maze," she said in a surprisingly loud voice.

"We may yet still, if you keep shouting," Allia hissed at her.

"We're safe now, Allia," she said assuringly as they turned a corner. "They may catch us coming out, but they won't catch us with what we've got."

"And how would you explain how you are dressed?"

"The same way I've done it the last three times," she said, looking over her shoulder and winking. "The Brat is famous for doing weird things. Even she likes to put on dark clothing and skulk around with no protection every once in a while. It satisfies her need to be adventurous."

"Sometimes I do not understand you, sister," Allia grunted.

"Then I'm doing it right," she replied in a frippant tone.

Everything was in readiness for them, and it told him two things. One, that Miranda was very thorough, and two, that Miranda could find the center of the maze. A single tent had been erected not far from the fountain, in a large open area. Inside that small tent were four modest wooden chests and four neatly folded lengths of waterproof canvas. She had even thought to have a trio of simple chairs with throw pillows placed in the seats and a small table set up in the tent, so that anyone visiting it would have somewhere comfortable to read.

Tarrin had felt a sense of peace and assurance flow over him when he stepped into the courtyard, and for the first time, he understood what it was and where it was coming from. He knew it was somehow connected to the Goddess, but he realized that the courtyard was holy to the Goddess, and that gave the sacred ground a very different feel for anyone who followed her. The courtyard was holy ground, and her presence there was powerful.

"I told her not to do that," Keritanima snorted as they entered the tent and looked around. Keritanima had the place illuminated with one of her little conjured balls of light.

"Do what?" Tarrin asked.

"Bring someone else," she replied. "I really don't think that Miranda dragged those chests in here by herself. They may look small, but those chests are very heavy."

"Even if it was Binter or Sisska?"

"Even them," she said adamantly. "I seriously debated letting Miranda in here."

"Why?"

"I don't know," she said after a brief pause. "Maybe because this place feels very private to me. I really had to bring myself to telling Miranda to come in here."

Tarrin didn't say anything. Keritanima was feeling that same closeness to the Goddess he did, a feeling that was always intensified there, in her courtyard. Keritanima was being affected by holy ground. That told him something about how she felt towards the Goddess.

"Anyway, let's take advantage of it," she said. "Time to pack away the booty."

They placed the books and scrolltubes into the chests, packing them carefully so that they wouldn't be damaged and looked orderly. Tarrin looked at the books as he did so, noticing that very few of them had any sort of marking on their black leather covers. The book with the shaeram on it was an exception rather than a rule. He opened one randomly and looked at it, and found it to be written in a very exacting hand, the precision of a writer who had been penning books for years. The short passage he read seemed to be talking about political affiliations among different magical and nonmagical orders in the west. He opened another book, and found a list of names, complete with dates and comments. The dates were from over two thousand years ago, and the comments seemed to be abbreviated words marking something the reader would understand. The key for those abbreviations was probably in the book.

Two thousand years? The book was that old? It looked like it was bound only last ride! He remembered the feeling of magic he felt in that room, and then he remembered that the place was a bit too clean, too dry. Perhaps that magic also preserved the books in their good condition.

"What is it, Tarrin?" Keritanima asked.

"This book has dates in it from before the Breaking," he replied. "I was musing that it doesn't look that old. That magic in the room must have preserved the books."

"It would be a wise thing to do," she agreed. "And the priests of Karas are anything if not methodical."

"They made a spell that lasted for over two thousand years," Tarrin said, mainly to himself. "That's some serious magic."

"Well, don't give them too much credit," Keritanima warned. "No doubt it took them some effort to do that."

"I guess," he shrugged.

"At least we know that the books are from before the Breaking now," Keritanima said as she placed scrolltubes in a chest. "That means that we might find something very useful in them."

"If not, then we wasted a whole night."

"Of course we didn't," Keritanima said. "We had fun, and we got to play together."

"You are weird," Tarrin told her flatly, which made Allia laugh.