He'd spent that first night back sitting on his bed, watching Dar sleep, musing over his visitation, thinking of Janette, rubbing the spot where Allia had popped him, and thinking about Jesmind's activities. They had placed a spell on her to guarantee her cooperation. Tarrin could understand that. But the way she looked at him when he'd sided with her against the Keeper made him more than a little nervous. Tarrin's feelings over Jesmind were never quite set in stone no matter what. One second he could miss her, and the next want to wring her neck. She'd spent the entire two months he'd been missing hunting for him. That surprised him. He'd have thought that she would have given up after the first month.
And it was so strange being back in the Tower. Dar had been very happy to see him, and they had spent the time between dinner and lights out catching up. Dar had taken the Test, and showed potential. He was starting the Initiate next month. Several novices they both knew had left the Tower for various reasons, and there was a rumor that there was going to be a Wikuni coming to the Tower and going through the Initiate. Dar himself was ecstatic over passing the test and going on to the next phase of the Tower training, for going back and being a spice merchant was the last thing on earth he wanted to do. The rules of the Test forbade him from even telling Tarrin so much as how long it took. If an Initiate passed information about the Test to anyone, he was immediately expelled. Dar was set to enter the Initiate at the beginning of the next week, which was only three days away. He had already finished his Noviate studies, and was spending his last three days working in the library with the Lorefinders.
As far as his first day back went, it was a continuation of what had gone on before. The Novices avoided him, the Sorcerers gawked at him and pestered him, and the Tower's servants and guards gave him looks like he was going to sharpen his claws on the furniture. The only real difference was that he really didn't care anymore. His time with his little mother had brought to him a balance, and he realized that there was nothing that he could do about the shortfallings of those around him. If they couldn't trust him, or didn't like him simply because of what he was, that wasn't his problem. He'd found his acceptance, with Allia and Dar, and with his family. There was no more he needed.
His family. He was a little nervous about seeing them, after what had happened, but he really didn't think that they would hold it against him. By now, they obviously learned about his nature as a Were-cat, and that was the only explanation that he could give to them. He felt that they could accept it. But it didn't make the reality of what had happened any easier to bear.
Dar yawned and rolled over. "Good morning," Tarrin told him calmly.
"You're up early," Dar said, rubbing his eyes and sitting up in bed. "What time is it?"
"Sometime around dawn," he replied.
"Did you sleep at all?"
"No," Tarrin relplied. "I'm too wound up to sleep."
"You're going to be hurting around noon," he said.
"No," Tarrin said. "I can sleep whenever I want for as long as I want, but I can also stay up as long as I want."
"Oh. I didn't know that," Dar said, putting his feet on the floor.
"I didn't either until about a month ago," he told him, unfolding his legs out from under himself and standing up. He stretched langorously, his paws brushing the ceiling, and he snapped his tail to and fro to get the tingles out of it. "I'm going to have a busy day today," he grunted. "They're giving me the Test, and my family is coming in to see me. Two things to worry about."
"The Test isn't all that bad," Dar assured him. "I'm not so sure about your family. Your mother makes me nervous."
"She does most people," Tarrin said.
"She really likes Allia. And Allia really likes her. They're two of a kind."
Tarrin chuckled. "Maybe now you understand why I got into such a deep friendship with Allia so quickly," he said. "She's so much like my mother, I couldn't help but like her, almost immediately."
Dar nodded. "She's been teaching your mother Selani. Oh, yes, your mother comes and visits her quite a bit. I've heard them talk a few times. Mostly, she's making Allia tell her about you."
Tarrin blinked. But then again, that was actually a good idea. Nobody knew Tarrin better than Allia. She'd been the only one he'd confide in over the months, and she knew how his mind worked. By talking to Allia, his mother was reacquainting herself with her own son. Tarrin rubbed his furred finger against his chin, thinking about it. That was a good sign, that she was so intent on learning about Tarrin's changes. That told him that she still cared, even after what had happened. Of course, he felt in his heart that she would forgive him, but a little backing up with hard evidence didn't hurt a bit.
He had changed quite a bit. And it went much deeper than the fur on his arms and legs.
"Your sister has learned it too," he added. "She can talk Selani just like Allia."
Now that was surprising. Jenna had a talent for languages; she could speak the trade tongue that was the commonly recognized language among the twelve kingdoms of the West, but she also knew High Sulasian, the archaic language spoken by high court and by some villages in the western areas, and she knew Dalasian, learning it from Karn the smith. That she learned to speak fluent Selani in a bit under two months was amazing. It reminded him how smart his sister was, much smarter than him.
"Allia is subverting my family," Tarrin said with a laugh. "Next we'll all be wearing desert garb and running the dunes."
Dar stood up and started dressing, and that reminded Tarrin to change out of his rumpled Novice clothes and put on some fresh ones. He was supposed to wear his usual novice clothes, but they were expected to be clean and very well groomed. The Test was as much ceremony and ritual as it was an assessment of his sorcery. Tarrin would never really look very well groomed, since his claws tended to shred pant legs and shirt sleeves. He found the best shirt and pants he had, showing very little wear from the passage of time and meeting up with the tips of his claws. The pants were always worse. The claws on his feet didn't retract completely the way his finger claws did, so they tended to snag on pant legs as he put them on, if he wasn't careful about it.
He really wasn't sure what he felt about the Test, even after thinking about it much of the night. He was a little nervous, but that seemed to be normal. Fear of the unknown was a common trait in anybody. He did feel alright with some parts of it, such as this vow he had to speak. The Goddess in the statue had told him that he could speak the vow without meaning it, just to humor the Council of Seven. Knowing that was coming was a tremendous relief. It wouldn't bowl him over, and what was important, it wouldn't present the Council with a bewildered, nervous poppinjay there for them to take advantage of him. He had a bit of confidence in what was to come, confident in the permissions given to him by the Goddess. Confident that he didn't have to challenge his independent nature when he was required to speak an oath that would put him into the service of another.
There was a knock at the door, and then it opened. Sevren was standing there, in his plain brown robe and the wire-rimmed spectacles he wore over his eyes. Sevren's scent was a bit nervous. Tarrin trusted Sevren, at least as much as he trusted any of the katzh-dashi. Sevren's interest in him had been a bit irritating at first, with all the strange questions and weird requests, but Sevren was very sincere in his desire to study Tarrin's Were condition, and Tarrin couldn't fault him for wanting to learn. Over the course of these little interview sessions, Tarrin had grown fond of the man. Sevren was a very easy-going individual, and for him to be nervous, about anything, was very much out of character. "What's the matter, Sevren?" Tarrin asked. Sevren didn't like to be called "master" or "lord" when they were alone.
"Oh, nothing, nothing," he waved off. "They're waiting for you."
"Already? I haven't eaten yet."
"Time waits for nobody, young one," he said. "Now hop."
"Yes, Sevren," he said, standing up and stretching a bit, working the kinks out of his tail.
Severen led him to a ch
amber very high up in the main Tower, a room so high that, if it had a window, one could probably see halfway to Shacè. It took them nearly ten minutes to climb the stairs to get up that high. Tarrin always wondered why so few of the Sorcerers weren't overweight. After climbing up all those stairs, he knew exactly why. The Keeper's office wasn't even that high up. And yet, if he kept his bearings, they weren't even at the very top. The stairs still went up when the reached the proper floor. The chamber itself was featureless, built of gray stone, perfectly circular, and there was not a whit of furniture or carpet or decoration. Just a empty room. The only thing in it other than living things was a glow-globe, high up near the ceiling, a ceiling that had to be fifty spans high. Standing in the room were the seven members of the Council. The only ones that Tarrin could identify were Ahiriya and the Keeper, but all seven of them wore fine clothing and tried to have a very regal, wise look about them. The way they looked at him made him nervous.
"Very good. Thank you, Sevren," the Keeper said. "You may go."
Sevren bowed and took his leave of them, shutting the heavy, steel-reinforced door behind him.
"Stand in the center of the circle," the Keeper said in a calm voice. Tarrin did as he was told, moving into the middle of the room and standing in the middle of their loose formation. When the all took steps backwards, up against the walls, Tarrin started to get worried. They arranged themselves in a curious pattern where six of them stood at equal distances to one another, as the Keeper stood a bit farther behind their circle and between Ahiriya and a tall blond woman, as if she had no specific place in their order. They raised their hands, almost in perfect unison, and Tarrin felt that sensation of drawing in all around him. He was surrounded by it. They remained perfectly still for several moments, and Tarrin could sense something around them, around each of them. Each of them took on an aura, a visible halo of light of the colors of the spectrum. Ahiriya was surrounded by red, and the Keeper by green, and the others were surrounded by a distinct color. Orange, yellow, blue, indigo, and violet. The lights were ghostly, almost shimmering, as if his eyes had trouble focusing on them long enough, as they tried to hide from his eyes. Along with the auras, Tarrin could hear musical chords as if they were being played by phantom musicians, musical notes of no specific timbre, as if sung by women with no voices. It was not a sound he was hearing with his ears. Instead, it seemed to reverberate inside of him, conducting against his soul directly.
"What do you see?" the Keeper asked in a almost chanting, sing-song voice.
"Colors," he replied. "Each of you is covered in colored light."
"Each of us?" a slender, black-haired woman asked.
"Each of you," he affirmed.
"What color am I?" she asked.
"Light purple," he replied.
"Am I very bright?"
"Not any brighter than the others. Well, the Keeper's standing a little farther back than the rest of you, but she looks about the same," Tarrin replied, studying her and each of them in turn.
The woman's eyes seemed to widen. "What color is the Keeper?" she asked.
Tarrin turned to face her. "Green," he replied. "She's covered in green light."
That made the Keeper rock back on her heels. "Are you certain?" she asked quickly.
"Positive," he replied. "Red. Green. Blue. Yellow. Light purple. Darker purple. Orange," he recited, pointing at each of them in the circle. Then he squinted, studying them. "There's something connecting all of you together," he added as little fuzzy strings started to appear before his eyes. "Little ghost strings."
"And no one of us shines more brightly than the others?" a large, dark-skinned man asked.
"No," he said, putting a finger to his chin and studying each of them. "They all look the same to me."
"Even the Keeper?"
Tarrin looked at her. Now that they said something, she did seem a bit more distinct than the others. The color surrounding her wasn't quite as fuzzy, though she was no brighter than them. "She's not any brighter, but she is a bit, umm, well, a bit crisper," he struggled. "All of you are kind of fuzzy. She's not as fuzzy as everyone else. Maybe it's because she's standing farther away, I don't know."
"Goddess," one of them whispered, low enough so that only Tarrin would hear it.
The whispered word that escaped the Keeper's mouth caught his attention much more. She said only one thing, something that made no sense.
"Weavespinner!"
All the colors and the soundless chords suddenly vanished, leaving Tarrin's eyes a little dazzled. He blinked them several times and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. When he opened them again, he found the seven staring at him like he was a live snake. "The Test is concluded," the Keeper said in a voice that she was obviously trying to control. "You will speak not a word of what happened here this day, Tarrin. If you do, you will be punished in the most severe manner imaginable. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Keeper," he said in a calm voice. He already knew that speaking about the Test was forbidden.
"This day, you have demonstrated that you are one of the children of the Goddess. You are katzh-dashi. As per our laws, you will be taken into the Tower and given training in your gift. But before you are given that instruction, you will swear an oath. On one knee."
"What?" he said in sudden heat, heat that was totally feigned. He realized last night that if he didn't look surprised, they'd wonder if someone had secretly prepared him for this. "I won't bow my knee to anyone! Least of all you," he grated, giving the Keeper an unholy, murderous look.
"You have no choice," the Keeper shot back in a cold voice. "It is demanded of all who enter the Initiate. And we make no exceptions, not even for you."
"I'm not subjecting myself to anyone," Tarrin retorted.
"Tarrin," she said in an exasperated voice, "you're not doing anything that isn't demanded of everyone else. The Oath is a way for us to be sure you'll complete your training, because not many will break an oath without really thinking it over first."
"What is this oath?" he asked in a less hostile voice.
"To obey the will of the Goddess so long as you stay on the grounds, follow the commands of your instructors and superiors, and do your very best in your learning. That's all."
Tarrin rose up to his full height, putting a finger to his chin and pretending to consider her words. The nameless goddess was right. They made sure the oath talked about him obeying the Goddess. Not the Tower. That was just as she said it would be worded. Of course, what the Keeper didn't say was that she would, at some time in the future when he got rebellious, point out that as Keeper she spoke the will of the Goddess. Neat little trap there. But Tarrin knew that if this goddess wanted his obedience, she'd do the commanding herself.
"Only so long as I stay in the Initiate?" he pressed.
"Only so long as you stay in the Initiate," she affirmed.
"And if I decide I don't want to be a Sorcerer?"
"Then you go your own way," she shrugged.
Which means that I can un-enroll myself whenever I feel like it, he thought with a calm look at her, trying to hide a grin. "Alright, but if you trick me, I'll hand you your guts one handful at a time," he said in a dangerous voice.
"I would expect no less," she said in a slightly sickened voice. "Kneel."
He did so, reluctantly. "Do you swear that you will obey the will of our Goddess, She Who Goes Unnamed, patroness of the katzh-dashi and Goddess of the Weave?"
"I swear," he said after feigning a few seconds of indecision.
"Do you swear to do your utmost to pass the Initiate, to come to the end of the training and say that you gave it your all in good faith?"
"I swear," he said immediately.
"Do you swear to obey the commands of your instructors, and the laws of the Tower, so long you remain bound to the order?"
"For so long as I remain in the Initiate, I so swear," he said flatly, giving the Keeper a deadly look.
"That's not enough."
"That's all you'll get," he said with a steely tone, standing up. Towering over the diminutive Keeper, he looked down at her with a blunt expression of mule-headed stubbornness. "If I decide to stay as a katzh-dashi, we'll have to renegotiate. Until then, take what I've given you and be happy with it, because I won't go a step farther. It's more than I'd have given anyone else," he told her adamantly.
"You push it," she said with hot eyes.
"You forget what you're dealing with," he replied in a calm voice. "I'm not a human. My nature is contrary to tying myself down in one place, and giving someone else control over me goes against just about every instinct I have. Be lucky I went as far as I did."
"I think you forget your place," the Keeper said in her commanding tone.
"Then feel free to educate me," Tarrin said, casually popping his claws and giving them a cursory glance, letting the Keeper see just how long and sharp they were.
"Myriam," the dark-haired woman cut in. "Myriam, you forget--"
"I forget nothing," she snorted.
"Tarrin is right," the woman pressed. "If swearing oaths is against his nature, to force him into more than he is willing to give may upset the balance of his mind. You don't want him disappearing for three more months, do you?"
"No," she said.
"Take my word for it, Myriam," she said. "If he didn't want to be here, he would never have returned. I think we can trust him with what he has already given."
"Yes, yes, you are right," she said with a contrite smile. "I forget that he returned on his own."
"I have one more thing," Tarrin said.
"What?"
"I want Dolanna to teach me."
"We've already arranged that," she said. "Tarrin, no one person can teach you, but Dolanna will be involved in your education. She will be one of your instructors."
"Why more than one?"
"Because different katzh-dashi are better at different things," a tall, slender man wearing a blue robe said calmly. "Each instructor teaches a student what he or she excels at, so that the student is always trained by those who best know the subject at hand."
The Tower of Sorcery Page 44