The Shadow Realm

by James Galloway

  It hung there for a long moment, as the infuriated sui'kun held the Sha'Kar's life in his paws. And then, with slow, determined, reluctant deliberation, he relaxed his hold on the Weave, his grip on the Sha'Kar. The aura of Magelight dissipated from his paws, and the incandscence of his eyes reverted back to the glowing, ominous green aura that marked his anger. Breathing deeply, Tarrin tried to let go of his anger, tried to regain his composure, but it wasn't easy. Every time the girl on the floor whimpered, it threatened to send him flying into a rage.

  The male dropped to the floor and took in a deep, ragged breath, as the female in the bed scrambled out of it and rushed to him.

  "If you ever do that to anyone again, I'll come back here and personally rip out your throat," he said in a seething hiss, showing the man his long, curved, deadly claws. "The gift of the Goddess was never meant to be used to torture people! I can't believe you! Have you completely forgotten what it means to be katzh-dashi!?" he said with a sudden, infurated scream, which made both of them cringe and shrink back from him. "Has a thousand years on this island turned you into something no better than the Demons you swore to oppose? I know murderers with more decency than what I just witnessed!" he raged at them.

  They stared at him in terror, clinging to one another.

  "If I ever see you again," Tarrin said, pointing a clawed finger at the male, "you won't live to see me walk past you! You may claim to be pacifists, but I'm not. I'll do everything to you that you just did to her, and more than you could ever imagine besides," he said in a truly hideous voice, clasping his paws back into a fist without retracting his claws. The result was that a rivulet of blood boiled up around his fingers and poured onto the floor. The eyes of the two Sha'Kar seemed locked onto that blood as it flowed onto the floor in a steady stream, forming a wider and wider stain in their plush rug. They seemed absolutely horrified by the sight of it. More than anything else, the sight of that blood seemed to terrify the two Sha'kar into almost gibbering senselessness.

  Tarrin snorted several times, getting his breathing back under control, then opened his fist. His regeneration sealed the deep puncture wounds quickly, and he wove a quick spell that stripped the blood off his paw, then sucked the water out of the blood on the floor, leaving it as a fine, powdery red dust. That dust he carefully pulled up from the carpet and contained, compressing it down into a rust-colored solid mass about the size of a child's fist. There were humans in this place, and they may get turned trying to clean up his blood. Even in his intense fury, he had presence of mind to prevent that from happening. Tarrin palmed the ball of solidified, dehydrated blood so it would be safely contained.

  "This one is mine now," Tarrin said in a seething, hissing voice, his fury clearly obvious in his tone as he pointed at the panting girl. "If you argue about it, I'll kill you. If you take this to the Grand or the Elders, I'll kill you. If I hear anyone talking about what happened here today, I'll kill you. If I hear that you torture one more human servant, I'll come back and do the same thing to you, then I'll kill you. And if I ever see you again, I'll do worse than kill you. You had best not put one toe out of this house until I'm long gone from here," he said viciously.

  He picked up the girl, who was still trembling, and regarded the two with a cold look. "If this is what the Sha'Kar have come to, then I pray to the Goddess that you never get off this island," he said emphatically, in that same brutal, cold tone. "Evil like yours deserves to be imprisoned. And may you choke on it," he said with vicious finality, carrying the semi-conscious girl towards the door, where other Sha'Kar of varying ages and their human servants watched on with horrified expressions. They all melted out of his path quickly when he reached them, and then he walked through them, looking an adult among children, without a word or even a sidelong glance.

  Whatever they had to do, whatever they needed to discover, Tarrin prayed with all his heart that it came soon. After seeing what he had seen, learning what he had learned, he knew that his outrage wouldn't be contained for very long. This atrocity had nearly caused him to lose control and lash out. If he stayed among the Sha'Kar for much longer, it would come down to a war.

  And it was a war that he knew he could not win.

  Chapter 15

  Her name was Zarina, and she had absolutely no idea what was going on.

  She sat on the divan in Tarrin's private chamber, but she didn't know his name. She watched in mute, almost terrified wonder as the huge--so incredibly tall!!--creature paced back and forth angrily in the room, which didn't seem very large to her, his anger and hatred showing clearly on his face. Zarina didn't understand why he was so furious. She didn't understand why he had made her go back to her Master's estate, and why this strange creature confronted him. The only memory she had of that was the pain, the pain of punishment, something any servant on the island strove mightily to avoid. She sat there and did what a servant did, did what she was told and did everything she could to avoid attracting attention to herself when it was obvious that one of the masters was not happy. She was told to sit down, and by the Goddess of the Sha'Kar, that was exactly what she was going to do. She was going to sit there and be silent and wait until she was told she could get up.

  For his part, it was all Tarrin could do to keep control of himself. Frightening the Sha'Kar into wetting himself didn't hold the same sweet satisfaction he'd have felt if he would have bitten the man's throat out with his own teeth and drank his blood. Even now, nearly a half an hour after returning with the servant girl to an empty room--he had no idea where Kimmie and Sapphire went--he still had to labor to retain his composure. Every time he let his attention wander, he could see nothing but that Sha'Kar using Sorcery to torture the poor girl, and that sent him right back to the edges of utter rage.

  How could he do such a thing! The Ancients prided themselves on their vow to never use Sorcery against another except in self defense! How could they have become so twisted...so evil? Tarrin thought he had a sadistic bent, but to inflict that kind of terrible pain for no reason other than one was displeased...that was absolutely monstrous! At least Tarrin had reasons for doing what he did, not torturing a young girl because he thought she had caused an honored one displeasure! And what was worse, the Sha'Kar didn't even bother to find out what happened, and he did it right in front of him! The Sha'Kar were so arrogant that they just assumed that Tarrin's ways were their ways as well, but he would never adopt a practice of torturing the innocent for its own sake!

  Back and forth, back and forth, Tarrin stalked up and then back down the middle of the room, as the servant girl watched him from the corner of her eyes, keeping her head down and her shoulders hunched. She still clutched his vest around her like it was some kind of magical armor that would save her from harm, and seeing her like that, so utterly defeated, it made his blood absolutely boil. No wonder the servants were so obedient, if that was what they experienced when they displeased their noble masters!

  Perhaps it was bad timing that the knocking on the door was lost to Tarrin while he seethed in his rage. Getting no answer, the door was opened, and Iselde and Auli were standing outside. They were wearing their shimmering robes, and Iselde stepped just inside the door and called out. The servant girl glanced at the two of them and seemed torn, as she found herself in a serious predicament. The masters were looking at her, looking at her sitting on the divan and not serving, presuming to be above her station. But the honored one had told her to sit down, and she was not going to disobey!

  It was their scents that he noticed. Not their calls, getting more and more worried, or the sight of them by the door. Those Sha'Kar scents touched his nose, and he almost lost control. He whirled on the door with his eyes glowing in their unholy greenish aura, narrow, with his fangs bared and his ears fully back. When his tail went straight out behind him, Iselde gasped and took a step back from him in fear. "H-Honored one?" she asked in anxiety. "You asked--"

  "GET OUT!" Tarrin roared at them, extending his claws and actually starting to
move towards the door with all his most formidable weapons bared, his manner telling the two Sha'Kar females that if they were still there when he reached them, he would use those claws and fangs on them. With gaping looks of shock, terror, and confusion, the two Sha'Kar females scrambled out of the room as quickly as they could manage and slammed the door behind them. Tarrin could hear their footsteps as they bolted down the hall, and not even Iselde's squeal of fear shook him out of his fury.

  All the ground he'd gained went right out the window after the Sha'Kar had barged in. Tarrin went back to pacing the floor in a stalking, aggressive manner, his tail slashing behind him so hard that it knocked over the second divan when he passed by it. The servant girl watched him, trying not to move, though she was trembling so hard he didn't see why she wasn't sliding off the divan, and the smell of her fear was almost acrid in his nose. That fear did make him calm down, when he realized that she was afraid of him. And she probably had good reason to be. The Sha'Kar didn't intimidate with physical violence, and though using magic was more sinister, there was something elemental, instinctual about a good old physical threat that never failed to traumatize the victim. Especially when delivered by a creature twice one's height and strong enough to tear one in half at the waist. Tarrin had alot of practice laying down those brutal ultimatums, and he knew how to present himself in the most intimidating manner possible. He wasn't trying to do that now, but he hadn't told the girl what was going on, and she probably didn't realize what he'd done. That spell had left her so scattered after Tarrin cut it off that she couldn't even walk. He doubted she understood why she was there.

  Slowing to a stop with his back to her, he clenched his fists several times and relaxed them, trying to calm down enough to be rational. He let out his breath explosively as he felt himself calm down enough to face the girl without terrifying her, his tail slowing to a stop behind him. He turned and faced her, saw her still keeping her head down, but watching him out of the corner of her eye. She was still wearing the wrap and his vest, and Tarrin realized that he must look even more intimidating, being stripped to the waist, where all his formidable muscle was clearly visible.

  Blowing out his breath one more time, he scrubbed his paw through his hair, then flicked his ears. "Look at me," he said in as calm a voice as he could manage, which probably didn't sound all that calm to her.

  She did so reluctantly, raising her head to meet his eyes. He could see her fear plainly, smell it sharply on her.

  "Calm down, little one," he said shortly. "I'm not angry with you. I'm angry with your former master."

  She didn't miss him use the word former. She put a hand over her chest, over the tattoo, and looked away from him. "I will serve you faithfully," she said in a tiny voice.

  "You'll serve no one but yourself," he snorted. She cringed when he advanced on her, putting her hands up to protect her face. He reached under her arms easily and put a finger over the tattoo. He meant to weave a spell to remove it, but the instant he touched it he felt the magic of its creation. It was more than a spell of marking. It had complicated Mind weaves in it, and since he wasn't human he couldn't fathom what they were supposed to do. There were also some other kinds of weaves that he couldn't make out in the intricate interlaced knot of multiple spells. The tattoo was more than a mark of ownership, it was a magical spell that probably helped the Sha'Kar control their human servants, which outnumbered them by more than three to one.

  Tarrin realized that only a human could have made the spell. It was a Mind weave, and only humans could use Mind weaves against other humans. The human Sorcerers on the island were creating these Mind weaves to control the servants!

  The strong background magic of the interior of the Ward had kept him from sensing its magic the first time he came into close proximity to a servant. He hadn't noticed it before. Regardless, he picked through the amalgamation of several weaves and found that it wasn't going to be easy to remove. The Mind weaves were all embedded in her mind, and since he couldn't tell what they did, he'd have to be careful getting rid of them. He studied the cleverly woven spell and puzzled out that any attempt to remove it would do harm to the girl's mind, so he had to attack it in another fashion. If he couldn't unravel the spell, then perhaps if he cut off all magical power to it, it would fade on its own and dissipate without causing the girl any mental damage. He studied the spell's layering in her mind and concluded that that would indeed be the case. The weave wouldn't do her any harm unless someone tried to unravel it without knowing exactly what they were doing. It had some kind of layered architecture that would cause a cascade effect, as flows broke and interacted with other flows to create a new spell completely different than the one first created. Tarrin knew it could be done, for Spyder had done it against him when they fought, and he had also done it to her by infusing her Fire weave with Air and making it explode. This spell was much more complicated than that, but it would behave in a similar manner. If he poked around it and made a mistake, he would trigger that trap and harm the girl's mind. But by starving the spell of all energy, cutting it off from the Weave the same way he had cut off the Sha'Kar, it would kill the spell without it doing any harm. It would just cease to exist. He did just that, and didn't have to resort to High Sorcery to have enough power to do it. Cutting off an active Sorcerer was much harder than simply choking off the flow of energy into a relatively weak spell, by Weavespinner standards, anyway. It may be a complicated spell, but it drew very little energy, and that was the only energy he had to overwhelm to cut it off from the Weave. He put his magical will over the spell and quickly choked the life out of it, cutting it off from the source of its power. He sensed the spell in her wither, and then simply evaporate when the magic fueling it stopped. The entire spell simply died out without disrupting its weaving, and thereby not doing the girl any lasting harm. In the span of a heartbeat, the spell simply ceased to exist.

  He removed his paw from her chest and saw the tattoo visibly fade, but the look in the girl's eyes caught his attention even more. It was if they had suddenly had a fog pulled away from them. She shook her head and put a hand to her temple, then looked up at him in confusion. "What happened, honored one?" she asked weakly.

  "I removed that damned mark," he said, tapping her on the chest meaningfully.

  "I am ready, Master," she said resolutely, putting her hands behind her back and presenting her chest to him.

  He realized she was waiting for him to put his mark on her.

  "What's your name?" he asked.

  "Zarina, Master."

  "Mine is Tarrin, and don't call me Master," he said bluntly. "You'll stay with me until we get off this island, but once we do, you'll be a free woman."

  "Free?" she asked in a tiny voice. "Me?"

  He nodded. "Well, not exactly free," he amended with a rueful look. "I have to deliver you to my bond-mother."

  "I live to serve. To serve is all," she said in a hopeless voice, a voice of utter defeat. Even without the enchanted tattoo to influence her mind and her actions, she still had the mentality of a slave. And it infuriated him all over again.

  "You can stop sticking your breasts out at me, girl," Tarrin growled. "I'm not going to mark you. Like I said, you're as good as free. I don't want you going far because I don't trust these Sha'Kar, but I don't want you thinking you have to serve me, either."

  Zarina blushed and pulled the vest around herself again.

  "You'll travel with us until I get you back to my bond-mother. She'll take good care of you."

  "As you wish, Master."

  "Don't call me that!" he snapped at her, and she winced and looked at the floor, trembling visibly. He blew out his breath and reached under her chin, then lifted it until she was looking him in the eye. "If anyone ever needed a gentle hand, it's you, my little fawn," he told her. "You'd do best with Dolanna. She'll take very good care of you. I think I'm a little too intense for you."

  "What do you mean, Ma-" she cut herself off, then she cringed.
<
br />   "Dolanna is a gentle and loving person. You've been conditioned to be a slave, Zarina. Dolanna will help you overcome that and be your own woman."

  Zarina was very quiet, but there were tears sheening her eyes. "You truly mean it? I am to be free?"

  "As free as you can be, given you'll have to undergo some mandatory training," he chuckled. "My mother will be chomping at the bit to get you."

  "I am to serve her?" she asked, the disappointment in her voice bitter.

  "You'll learn from her," he said firmly. "You have a special gift, little fawn. I'm not going to tell you what that gift is yet, because it will confuse you and may put you in danger, but it's very special. My mother will teach you all about it, and help you become the best you can be. Is that too much to ask in exchange for me freeing you?"