The Questing Game f-2

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The Questing Game f-2 Page 43

by James Galloway


  Keritanima laughed. "Alright. Now that I know I can talk to you any time I want, I guess I can live with you leaving. I'll talk to you later, alright?"

  "Alright. Give me a couple of days."

  "Make sure you tell Allia how to do it. I'll wait for her to contact me."

  "I'll do it right now," he promised. "As soon as I get someone to go get her."

  "Good. You get better, Tarrin. I'll talk to you later. I love you."

  "I love you too, sister, and if I don't get better, Triana will kill me," he added with a wry chuckle. "Bye."

  "Bye," she answered, and he took his paw off the amulet.

  Tarrin knew it wouldn't take much to get Allia into his room. All he had to do was get the attention of whoever was standing outside his door. He did that by picking up the metal base of his lantern, then pitching it at the door. It hit it with a metallic thunk, and the door opened almost immediately. It was Faalken, wearing his armor and with a light grin on his face. "You wanted something, Tarrin?"

  "I need to talk to Allia. Is she around?"

  "I think she's downstairs. I can't leave this door or Triana will nail me to it, but Dolanna's in the next room. I'll have her go get Allia for you."

  "Thanks, Faalken," he said with a grateful look, then he leaned back against his pillows.

  Allia entered the room with Dolanna a few minutes later. She had a pewter tankard of water in her slender, four-fingered hand, but she also had a quartet of deep scratches on her forearm. Their spacing told him that a Were-cat was to blame. They were also fresh, done that very day. "Which one did that to you?" he asked immediately.

  "It wasn't a fight, brother," Allia said immediately in Selani. "Singer wanted to see the Dance, so I sparred with her. This was an accident. You have given me worse, so don't get outraged over it."

  "Oh. Alright, I guess," he said. "Dolanna, you should be here too."

  "For what, dear one?"

  "I'm going to teach Allia something about our amulets. It turns out we can use them to talk with Keritanima." Dolanna's eyebrow rose, and Allia gave him a startled look, putting her hand on her ivory amulet. "The Goddess explained how to do it. She said that because they're connected, we can use them to speak with each other over any distance."

  "When did she tell you this?" Dolanna asked.

  "When she told me everything else. She just said not to try it or use it until I was stronger. It does take a little concentration and effort."

  "You could have told me," Allia said in a huff.

  "I wanted to make sure it worked before I did that," he told her. "Do you want to learn this or not?"

  "Teach on," she said immediately.

  "I've already done it, and Kerri's waiting for you to speak to her," he told her. "You just put your hand on the amulet and concentrate on which of us you want to talk to. Then you talk. She'll hear it. She'll talk back to you the same way."

  Allia nodded, grabbing hold of the ivory amulet, taking a couple of breaths, then closing her eyes. "Keritanima," she called out in a steady voice.

  "It's about time," Keritanima's voice emanted from Allia's amulet immediately. "I thought you said you were going to get her, Tarrin. I was starting to worry." There was a slight pause. "Hello, sister. It's good to hear your voice. Are you alright?"

  "Very interesting," Dolanna said professionally, looking at Allia's hand over the amulet. "Can she hear us?" she asked Tarrin.

  He shook his head. "She can only hear Allia, but everything Allia says can be heard by people around her, the same way we can hear her."

  "Then I suggest you only speak to Keritanima in Sha'Kar," Dolanna suggested. "That is the only secure way to communicate, and there is little doubt that Keritanima's cabin is under surveillance."

  "That's a very good point," Tarrin agreed. Allia relayed that suggestion to Keritanima, in the Sha'Kar language.

  "I think Dolanna has a good idea," Keritanima replied in Sha'Kar. "I have little doubt that people are watching and listening. This way they'll know I'm talking to you, but have no idea what I'm saying. And it's not like they can tell me to stop. That would tip me off for sure that they're spying on me."

  "What is the difference?" Allia asked.

  "It's against the law to spy on the Royal family," Keritanima said with a wicked little laugh. "They do it anyway, but it's illegal. Anyone caught doing it is arrested for high treason, and Wikuni law makes that punishable by death with no benefit of trial. If they say that to me, I could have the ship's captain executed on the spot."

  "The Wikuni have laws for everything," Allia noted.

  "True, but that just means that we have to break more laws to get things done," she replied with a chuckle. "Azakar is giving me a dirty look. He doesn't like our new security rule."

  "Miranda speaks Sha'Kar," Tarrin remembered with a little smile. "I wouldn't put it past Binter and Sisska either. They were in the room when we were learning it, and they're both very smart."

  "Tell Keritanima that giving Azakar lessons may be a good idea," Dolanna said. "Because of who we are, I think an uninterceptible means of communication should be common among us."

  Allia relayed that, and there was a pause. "I'm not so sure, Dolanna. The more people who know it, the greater the chance it leaks out."

  "That's irrational, sister," Allia chided. "Teaching a language takes time."

  "True, but how am I going to teach him without teaching whoever's listening as well?"

  "I see," Allia said after a second.

  "Tell her that there are any number of weaves and Wards I taught her that block sound," Dolanna told Allia. "She can simply isolate her cabin and teach within the safety of the Ward. It could also protect them from any other information they do not want the others to discover."

  Allia relayed that. "Good idea," Keritanima answered Dolanna's suggestion. "I can do that, and it'll give me the opportunity to practice. Miranda wants to know if there are Wards that block vision. You never taught me anything like that."

  "Yes, but I did not teach them to her. Tell her that an Illusion placed so that is viewed outward, laid over the cabin's walls, will make people looking into the cabin see the Illusion she placed. It is just as effective as a blocking Ward."

  Allia relayed that, and Keritanima chuckled. "I never thought to use an Illusion like that. That's sneaky. I'll do it. I don't want these rats knowing any more than absolutely necessary."

  "You were right, brother," Allia told him. "This does take effort."

  "That's why I only did it for a couple of minutes," he told her.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing, sister," Allia said. "I was speaking to Tarrin."

  "Oh, sorry. For a minute there, I thought I lost contact. Listen, I can't speak much longer. I have to make some arrangements, and I don't want them to know any more until I can set it up so they can't eavesdrop. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Allia, alright?"

  "That's alright with me, sister," Allia assured her. "Contact us when you're ready to speak again. We won't contact you until then, unless it's an emergency."

  "Good. I hope to contact you tomorrow. I love you, sister. Bye again, Tarrin, and I'll do what you suggested, Dolanna. Just make sure you teach Dar and Faalken while I'm teaching Azakar."

  "Dolanna is nodding, so I guess that is an assent, and Tarrin sends his love," Allia replied. "Goodbye, sister. Fair winds be with you."

  "Talk to you tomorrow, Allia. Keep each other safe," she replied, and then Allia let go of the amulet.

  "Well, this is an advantageous development," Dolanna smiled. "With the ability to communicate with her, she will have no trouble finding us when she is ready to return. When will that be, Tarrin?"

  "She said she wants to deal with her father, so she's not chased anymore. She said she'd be back after she did that."

  "So she intends to go to Wikuna."

  Tarrin nodded. "I have the feeling that Damon Eram is going to have a very bad summer."

  Dolanna chuckled. "I would have t
o agree, dear one. Keritanima seems to me to be a very spiteful woman. She will not make her father's life in any way easier for her presence."

  "There is nothing wrong with vengeance," Allia said. "It is a demand of honor to repay blow for blow, blood for blood, and eye for eye. She will only be giving back to her father what he has inflicted upon her. That is fitting."

  "Very fitting," Tarrin agreed.

  "I just hope that it is not too much for her," Dolanna sighed. "She may be good at intrigue, but her father has much more experience. That he still sits on the throne is a testament to his ability. She will find in him her ultimate adversary."

  "She will make us proud," Allia said confidently.

  "I hope so," Tarrin yawned. "If you two don't mind, I'd like to take a nap. I'm feeling pretty tired."

  "Certainly," Dolanna said. "You rest, Tarrin. The more you rest, the quicker you will recover. Come, Allia. Let us go downstairs and fetch Dar. We have instruction to give him."

  "Yes, Dolanna," Allia said obediently. She leaned down and kissed Tarrin on the forehead, then rose up and gave him one of her glorious smiles. "I'll forgive you for not telling me sooner," she said with a wink. "Good sleep, my brother."

  "Thanks," he said dryly, and then the two women filed quietly out the door.

  Tarrin snuggled down against his pillows. It was good to hear from Keritanima, so good that he felt as if a great weight had been taken off his chest. He now knew, beyond any doubt, that she was well, and the others were well, and that she seemed to have control of the situation. Somewhat, anyway, but that was better than having none. He could go to sleep knowing fully that his beloved sister, as dear to him as his own blood sister, Jenna, was really and truly going to be alright.

  In more ways than one. She was going to go back to Wikuna and stand up to her father. She could finally exorcise the demons of her childhood, and put it all behind her. She would come back a better woman, a healed woman, and he looked forward to looking into those beautiful amber eyes and not seeing the tight defensiveness in them that came from her horrid childhood. She would come back, and when she did, she would be whole.

  It felt like he was a chick leaving a nest.

  Tarrin stood at the door to his room, the room that had been his entire world for nearly eleven days. Triana held onto his arm gently, not supporting him but ready in case his knees faltered. She had finally pronounced him well enough to leave his room.

  Standing beside his new bond-mother reminded him about how majestic she was. Taller than him by nearly a head, having to look up at her seemed to reinforce her authority over him. Tarrin wasn't used to looking up at people. Only Azakar, Binter, and Sisska, but all three of them were with Keritanima. But it was more than her height. Her posture, her stance, the very way she moved, they all radiated raw, unmitigated power. There was nothing that Triana did that didn't remind the looker that she was stronger, wiser, and much better than them, and that was alot of what made her so thoroughly intimidating. But eleven days of seeing her softer, more nurturing side had taken alot of the edge off that intimidation to him. She was still in total command of him, but he could look past her gruff exterior and see the tender woman that lurked beneath her hard shell. He didn't fear her anymore, like he had at first. He had a tremendous amount of respect for her, and he'd started to develop real affection for her, beyond the trusting sense of love he felt for her in her role as his foster parent.

  Tarrin hesitated at the doorway, adjusting the soft linen shirt she'd given to him. He had an extra layer of bandage over the wound, in case his moving opened the wound, and it didn't like it when he bent in certain ways. He had to keep his chest and stomach aligned, and it throbbed whenever he bent forward. Just standing was a supreme effort, but he was determined to go down into the common room. Triana wasn't one to keep someone in a bed longer than they needed to be there, and she'd told him the day before that extended bedrest could be good, but it also let the body weaken in other ways. She told him that a good, quick recovery depended on the proper balance of quiet rest and limited activity, rehabilitating the injured areas while preventing everything else from atrophying. It took nearly everything he had to stand up by himself, or walk, but he wasn't going to be imprisoned in his room by his own weakness. Triana said he could leave it, so he meant to leave it.

  "Just take it slow, cub," Triana warned as she opened the door. "This isn't a horse race. We have all month."

  "I'm going about as fast as I can go, Triana," he assured her as he took a ginger step out into the hallway. It was carpeted and decorated with several tapestries and paintings, and even had a couple of narrow tables and plush uphostered chairs along the sides of the hallway. Dolanna had told him that they were in the Golden Eagle Inn, a very pricy upper-class establishment, which had been completely emptied out of everyone else. Tarrin and his friends were the only patrons, and the doors had been closed to everyone else. Triana had paid for it, and it was her gold that fed their entire group and kept the inn exclusively theirs. Tarrin wondered just how much money someone could amass over a thousand years, because to rent the entire inn at the start of the busy summer season had to be dreadfully expensive.

  The hardest part was the stairs. Carpeted stairs with ornate brass candle holders along the panelled walls. Seventeen steps, and each one was a challenge to Tarrin's knees not to falter. He leaned heavily on Triana's arm as he negotiated the steps, carefully putting a foot down and shifting his weight, then repeating the process until his foot set down on the landing. It opened into a large hallway, and Triana pointed away from the large double doors, towards the inn's largest dining room.

  He wondered how Dolanna was making out. She was visiting Renoit, who had agreed to remain in Shoran's Fork until Tarrin was fit enough to travel again. He hadn't been that hard to convince, Dolanna had mused after she told him about it, because the citizens of the two cities were flocking to his circus tent and paying him handsomely. Renoit wouldn't mind staying so long as the customers continued to flock to the performances. Today, she was over at the circus keeping in touch, notifying Renoit as to Tarrin's condition, and the estimated time that they would leave. As of that moment, Triana maintained that it would be about a month before he was fit enough to mend on his own. She told him he wouldn't be totally recovered for two months. Tarrin fervently hoped they could time that to coincide with them docking in Dala Yar Arak. They couldn't afford to just sit around while others were getting closer and closer to the Firestaff, and he could mend laying in a bunk on the ship just as easily as he could laying in the feather bed in his room. The sticking point had been convincing Triana of that. She wouldn't go with him, she had already made that clear, but she wouldn't let him go until he had healed to a certain point, when she was positive that no complications would arise during his mending.

  They entered the dining room's large open doorway, and he found himself looking at a richly decorated chamber with a polished hardwood floor and a huge table of burnished mahogany. Silver candelabras sat at carefully measured stations along its length, and each of the large, padded chairs had a china setting placed before it. Elegant, shiny bone china, some of the very expensive kind from Telluria. His mother, Elke, had a set of that Tellurian china, which she had kept packed in barrels in the basement of their Aldreth home. He had no idea where it was now, but he was sure it wasn't far from his mother. She valued that china almost as much as she valued her husband. The funny thing was, she never used it. That had always driven him crazy. Why keep something you never use? It just didn't make sense.

  Five of those chairs were occupied, by his female Were-cat kin. Rahnee, Shirazi, and Singer sat facing him, and Mist and Kimmie sat with their backs to him as he entered. Mist would not tolerate anyone other than a Were-cat being in the same room with her, but he was surprised she would sit with her back to the door. Each of them was enjoying a breakfast of fried ham steaks, boiled eggs, and a bowl of buttery-smelling porridge. "Well, it's good to see you standing on your own," Singer
said with a light smile. "Feeling alright?"

  "A little rubbery, but alright," he answered her. "I'm definitely hungry."

  "That's why I brought you down here," Triana said. "I'm tired of hauling your food up there. Take a seat, and I'll go get the cook to fix you something."

  Tarrin seated himself carefully beside Mist. If she objected to him, she made no outward sign. She was concentrating on her breakfast. Tarrin saw that she didn't bother using the fork, slicing the ham up with her claws, then using her fingers to get it to her mouth. "How are things going out there?" he asked curiously.

  "I'm running out of prey," Shirazi said in disappointment. "I should have thought to hunt human thieves before. They're clever and cagey. They certainly make it a challenge."

  "I hope you're not eating them," Tarrin said with a slight shudder.

  Shirazi laughed. "Human tastes terrible," she said with smile and a wink. "I enjoy a good meal as much as the next Were-cat, but I have to draw the line somewhere. No, this hunting is definitely only for sport and pleasure."

  "They do put a good fight when you can corner them," Rahnee added with a strange hint of respect in her voice. "They don't mewl like Bruga. The trick is cornering them. They're slippery little suckers."

  "I'd think that slippery is a job requirement for a thief, Rahnee," Kimmie teased.

  "You don't really have to kill them to win," Tarrin said. "Just chasing them out should be enough."

  "We're not killing everything that moves, Tarrin," Singer said. "We give them a chance to run. One chance. If they don't take it, or if they try to sneak back, then they're killed."

  "How do you know which ones come back?"

  Singer touched the side of her nose with a furry finger and grinned.

  "Oh. I keep forgetting about that."

  "I don't see how you can, unless you don't have a sense of smell," Rahnee said critically.

  "No, I meant it more like how you can remember them," he told Rahnee. "I can tell humans apart by scent, but after you smell so many, they'd be like a blur. I'd have trouble remembering which scent belongs to who."

 

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