James Galloway - The Tower of Sorcery

Faith .

The word just seemed to echo through the courtyard, though he knew that he had heard no sound.

You must have faith.

Tarrin looked around, quite mystified at the strange voice he heard. It was sweet, melodic, but it had an odd choral quality to it, as if it carried a power inside it that was more than what a single voice could hold. "Who are you?" he called.

Faith, my kitten, it repeated. Faith.

Tarrin looked around in confusion. "What do you mean? I don't understand."

But there was no reply.

Tarrin started to wonder if he really was going mad. He backed away from the statue quickly, almost falling off the ledge of the statue's base. He hesitated only a moment, drinking in the calming beauty of the statue and the fountain, and then he turned and left.

The events of that day were more or less forgotten; that was, Tarrin wasn't punished for it. Not a word was mentioned of it, but it had its own effects. The most obvious was that the Novices now would have absolutely nothing to do with him. They stayed as far away from him as they could. Before, where he got nervous looks, now they refused to even look at him. Novices would turn around and walk in the other direction, or duck into doors or side passages, when he walked the hallways. At dinner, the only time they were forced to be near him, the people who sat at his table finished in moments and hurried away.

Their rejection of him hurt, and it hurt deeply. He could understand their fear, but that didn't make it any easier. He had lost control of himself, and shown them the monster that lurked underneath. And now they were treating him like that monster. He became moody and out of sorts the next few days. Not even Allia and Dar could get him back to his usual self for any extended amount of time.

It wasn't the only shock he received, however. Three days after his rampage, he and Allia were visiting the baths for their after-practice bathing, and Tarrin saw Jesmind in the baths, soaping her red hair vigorously. The sight of her made him grit his teeth together, and he extended his claws almost out of impulse. Allia put a hand on his shoulder quickly. "She is not here to fight," she warned, soothing him. "Do not dishonor yourself by attacking one who has no desire to fight."

"Alright," he said stiffly. She looked up, catching his scent, and those green eyes locked with his for a few moments. Then she just looked away, dunking herself underwater to rinse her hair.

The Novices that tended the baths took one look at the impending disaster, and then fled, leaving the three of them alone.

Tarrin stood at the edge of the bathing pool and squatted down, his eyes flat. "What are you doing here, Jesmind?" he asked in a stiff voice.

"I'm bathing," she said with infuriating calm, pulling her hair behind her.

"Don't state the obvious," he grated. "It makes you look like a fool."

Her eyes flashed, and her light expression turned steely. "I'm not the fool here," she said, her voice carrying an edge. Then she turned her back on him pointedly. "I made a deal with the Keeper," she told him. "I promised not to fight with you, and in exchange, they allow me to stay on the grounds."

"You, making deals?" he scoffed.

"Why not?" she said. "I'd never get away from here if I killed you. They'd kill me. I'm not stupid," she told him. "So count your blessings, cub. So long as you're inside the fence, you're safe from me. But be warned. The minute you step outside the fence, your life is mine."

"I'm not afraid of you anymore," he said in a hissing voice. "Any time you want a piece of me, you just ask. I'll bring everything you can handle." That even startled him.

"My, the cub grows teeth, and he thinks he's an adult," she chuckled. "Since we're going to be stuck here together, there's no reason to be so nasty. I'm almost ashamed for you."

"Get over it," he said in an ominous voice.

She stopped, then turned partially and looked at him. And then she flinched visibly. "I, see," she said quietly. Her tone surprised him. It was one of regret, not anger. "Goodbye, Tarrin," she said quietly. "I'll think fondly of you."

That confused him. He gave Allia a strange look, then stalked away.

"Allia," Jesmind called.

"What do you want of me, kissash ?" she demanded flatly.

Jesmind winced. "Watch him," she said in a civil tone. "He doesn't have much more time."

"Time?" Allia said. "Time until what?"

"Until he is gone." She wrung her hair out with her paws, looking up at the Selani woman. Her face was sober. "It may come down to you. A knife thrust to the base of the skull will kill, even one of us. Just make sure you sever the spine, and leave the knife in until he's dead."

"What talk is this?" she demanded hotly.

"He trusts you," she sniffed. "When there's no more hope for him, you're the only one that will be able to get close enough."

Tarrin and Allia were in practice the next day when the news reached him. A nervous Novice handed him a message, and then bolted. Tarrin broke the seal on it and unfolded it.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," he replied. Then his eyes widened, and the first smile in a ten-day graced his handsome face. "My family is here!" he exclaimed. He laughed, and then picked up Allia and spun her around a few times. Then his face took a stricken look.

"Just go to them, my brother," she said softly to him. "They are your blood. It is not how you look that will matter to them."

"I hope so," he said fervently.

"Go bathe first," she noted critically. "You have sand all over you."

"You're right," he agreed.

"Well, Faalken," Allia said, dismissing Tarrin with a slap on the rump. "What can I teach you today?"

Tarrin flew through his bath, all but jumping in and jumping out, then he ran to his room and put on his Novice clothes. The note said to meet them in the room that was the third door on the left coming off the hallway that led from the Grand Stairwell, on the third level, along the outermost ring. That was only one floor up, but was in a different section of the Tower.

He ran up there, but then stood in silent dread by the door for nearly ten minutes. His desire to see his family was balanced by the fear that they would reject him, and it left his mind a confusing chaos of conflicting thoughts and impulses. He stood there, eyes closed, hand on the door handle, until a voice from behind startled him out of his indecision.

"Tarrin," called the warm voice.

Tarrin turned and looked. It was Jula, the Sorceress who had braided his hair. She smiled at him and approached, putting her hand on his forearm. "Are you unwell?"

"No, Madam Jula," he said quietly. He heard sudden commotion in the other room. They knew he was here. "I'm alright."

"Good," she said with a smile, patting his arm. "Have a good day."

Tarrin watched her leave, then he took a deep cleansing breath, and turned the handle.

They were all there, as was the Keeper. Seated around a polished oak table that was the main facet of the room, surrouned by many plush chairs. A single window stood on the far wall. But it was the faces of his family that captured his attention, mainly his mother. He watched that face blink once, and then a look of profound relief and joy swept over her features. "Tarrin!" she called, coming around the table.

Tarrin met her half way and buried her in his arms, lifting her up off the ground, all the relief in the world flooding over him. "Mother," he said quietly, in a voice that communicated all the fear and anxiety he had felt at meeting her.

"I need my ribs, my son," she gasped. He let go of her and hugged his father in almost exactly the same way, then he picked up Jenna and whirled her around a few times, as she held onto his neck. He cradled his beloved little sister up in his arms, laughing delightedly. She reached up and touched his cat ear delicately, then started feeling along its ridge-backed length. "It's soft," she remarked.