James Galloway - The Tower of Sorcery

And we're leaving behind those that were following us, Tarrin added silently.

After dinner, Tarrin stood on the deck of the ship as it coasted to a stop and anchored in the river on the gentle side of a bend, anchoring for the night. The ship was well enough away from shore in the wide section of river to ensure that getting aboard would be very difficult, but there were sentries posted regardless. Tarrin looked up at the sky, up at the silvery darkness where the clouds concealed the moons and the Skybands, and felt the cool wind on his face. Wind carrying the green smells of the forest, smells that always seemed to soothe him, even back when he was human. He opened his eyes and looked down at his paws, studying the backs of them, marvelling at them.

It was as if he'd never been anything else.

It was a calm revelation, he admitted, but he couldn't even remember what it was like not to have a tail. What he felt, and smelled, and heard, it was as if they were things that had always been there, and the didn't seem so unusual or new to him now. He knew that that was just him getting adjusted to his new condition, but he never expected to forget what it was like to be human. The Cat had taken up its now-familiar place in his mind, singing to him the song of the instincts, supplying him with information that transcended human comprehension and thought, that which truly made him neither human nor animal, but both. He felt the cool wind blow, felt the first drop of rain touch his cheek, marvelling once again at himself.

How alive he felt.

He knew there was no going back. But he couldn't help but feel that this was how he was always meant to be. Over the last few days, such a short time, he had fallen into more than a mere acceptance of what he was, he had found true joy in it. There was just something incredibly pleasing about how the way the grass smelled in the morning dew, or the smell of a thousand kinds of flowers blowing in the wind, or the scritch scritch sound a squirrel's claws made on the bark as it moved. He began to find pleasure in his body as well, at its strength and agility, at his tail, and ears, and fur, and claws. It was no longer an alien thing to him, but his body, the body that was more of a home to him now that his human one had ever been.

He also knew that in a time of anxiety he would feel much differently than he did now, when the dark part of his condition reared its head and made him afraid, but that would be then, and this was now. It would happen very soon, when he closed his eyes and went to sleep, and the dreams returned to him, the nameless dreams that he could never remember, yet never failed to startle him stone cold awake and in a cold sweat.

He stood at the rail a moment longer before going below decks, smelling the rain, listening to the sharp staccato pattering of drops hitting the wooden deck, the ropes, the water, even the leaves and branches of the trees along the riverbank. Feeling it against his skin, feeling it in his fur.

Feeling alive .

To: Title EoF

Tarrin had suffered through another sleepless night. He was desperately tired, but every time he settled into slumber, the dreams would rise up again and shock him awake. And he could never remember what they were about. In its own way, that was even more frustrating and frightening, because the things that scared him so remained nameless, shapeless phantasms, things that he could not identify. He ended up on the deck of the ship well before dawn, standing at the rail and simply waiting for the sun to come up. He was completely exhausted, but he was so terrified of sleeping that even the thought of it made his blood go cold.

He had no idea how long he stayed at the rail, wilted over it like a dying flower, until the first rays of the sun touched his face. With the rising light came voices, and sounds, and the smells of the humans as they rose from their sleep and went about the work of a new day. He watched them all with a detached curiosity, as Rennee came from his cabin and the officers and the crew started readying the ship for departure. His exhaustion made it seem like he was watching everything through a filmy gauze over his eyes, and it took him moments to think even the simplest things through.

The ship lurched, and Tarrin sank his claws into the deck and railing. The ship's bow anchor had raised, and the ship was starting to get pushed by the current. The ship had been stopped for the night with the bow facing the current to minimize the effect of it on the ship, and now the vessel was swinging around to put her stern to the current, to face downriver, using the stern anchor as a pivot to keep the vessel stable. The stern anchor was raised, and the ship pushed ahead with the current. The wind was very faint, the air calm and the sky clear, so the sails were very slack as the ship pushed downriver. Dolanna's clean scent touched his nose, but it took him a moment to recognize it. "It is time for breakfast," she said.

"I'm not hungry," he replied.

She put her hand on his shoulder, and he flinched away from it. The grip hardened, and she made him turn and face her. She gave him a look of concern. "How long has it been since you slept?" she asked.

"I don't know," he replied. "I sleep a little at night, but not for long."

"Dreams?" she asked, and he nodded. "There are some medicines I can give you that will let you sleep without dreams, but I do not want you to have to rely upon them. Tonight I will give you a dose of it, and we will see how it helps you." She put a hand to his cheek, feeling his temperature. "Why did you not tell me of this?" she demanded. "Tarrin, if I am to help you, you cannot hide things from me."

"I didn't think that you could do anything," he told her quietly.

She gave him another look. "Would you prefer to try to sleep now?" she asked.

"No, I can wait," he assured her.

"Tell me about these dreams," she said.

Tarrin closed his eyes. "I don't remember them when I wake up," he told her, "but whatever they are, they scare me so bad that I'm stone cold sober and awake when I do wake up. It's strange…the dreams just vanish like mist the instant I wake up, as if they'd never been. All it leaves me is the memory of being afraid."

"Interesting," she said. "You remember nothing at all? Not even a flash, an impression?"

"No," he replied. "I think I remembered them on that first night, but since then, nothing."

"We cannot let you go on like this," she said. "Lack of sleep has different effects on people, but a common one is increased aggression. That is something that you can definitely do without. If the medicines do not work, I will have to resort to magic."

"Why not use magic in the first place?"

"Tarrin, it is very complicated," she told him. "To put it very briefly, I have an exceptionally difficult time using magic on you that affects the mind. You are not human, Tarrin, and the alien nature of your mind does not allow me to use mind-affecting weaves as I could use them on humans. You do not think the same way that I do, and I must have an idea of how a target thinks in order to weave together a spell that can affect those thoughts. When I wove the spell that holds the instinctual side of your mind in check, it nearly killed me. I had to rely on raw power to overcome my unfamiliarity with your mind. And look at the results. I think the spell totally unravelled at least two days ago. Such a short respite for so much effort."

"It did?"

She nodded. "I am surprised that you did not notice."

"Maybe I did," he said. "They've been…loud lately. I've started doing things without thinking, things I think that the Cat is making me do."

"What things?"

"Little things," he admitted. "Like smelling before I open a door, or checking my room before I rest. I think the Cat can hear my own thoughts, because sometimes it acts on what I'm thinking or feeling. Like what happened with Jarax."