Tarrin Kael Firestaff Collection Book 4 - The Shadow Realm by Fel ©

by James Galloway (aka Fel)

  "Let's just hope Dolanna will do it for us," Dar sighed.

  "I'm going to go pay a visit to Grand Syllis today," Tarrin said in a flat tone. "It's time me and the ruler of the Sha'Kar had a little talk." He flexed his fingers in a most ominous manner, extending and retracting his claws.

  "Don't do anything stupid, Tarrin," Dar warned.

  "I know I can't outrage the Sha'Kar yet, Dar," he said grimly. "But they know why we're here, and even if we're having trouble, we can't let them forget about us. I have to remind them I'm still waiting. They're about to find out that a Were-cat has very little patience and an even shorter temper. Maybe a little good old-fashioned intimidation will shake something loose for us."

  "I'm, going to go talk to Kerri," Miranda said. "She has to know this. I think it'd be best if it came from me."

  "I'll talk to Dolanna," Kimmie said. "She and I are on good terms, and she knows that Were-cats don't lie."

  "Let me deal with Allia," Tarrin said with a determined look. "When she finds out the cousins of her lover are monsters, she may take it out of the hide of whoever tells her. I'm best suited for dealing with her if she gets nasty."

  "I don't think she'd do that," Dar said somberly.

  "I don't know, Dar," Tarrin sighed. "I really don't know. And that scares me more than anything else."

  Tarrin was in no mood for games. He stalked across the town, from Iselde's house to the massive central building at the center of town, the estate house of Grand Syllis, from which all official business was done. Everything about him radiated his bad mood, from his aggressive posture to his dark look, and the Sha'Kar in his path that started with flowery greetings trailed off to hesitant murmurs as he moved past them without so much as looking at them. None of them followed him, at least overtly, as Sha'Kar and a few humans in those shimmering robes began to congregate in a group that moved behind him by degrees, frantic whispering and pointing taking place. That the honored one was finally making an appearance among them was one thing, but for him to be so angry! All of them whispered that their hosts had done something to displease him, and he was on his way to the Grand to arrange quarters more suited for his eminence. There were other rumors, that a servant had insulted him, for the servants had gossiped that the honored one had taken one of Thalen Briliani's servants back to his estate, then carried the servant out by the hair some moments later with the entire household watching him leave from the door. But those rumors were unsubstantiated so far. Sha'Kar began to appear at their gates as he passed, word spreading my means of Whispering and amulets ahead of him. The Whispering he heard, a warning to all to stay out of the honored one's way, that he was obviously upset over something. It would be audbile to any who was da'shar. The da'shar warned off the youngers among them, heading them off before they moved to greet the honored sui'kun and quite possibly brought shame on themselves. The honored one was obviously on his way to the Grand, so the Sha'Kar simply got out of his way. The Grand was the one who should receive the honored one and help him solve whatever problem that had upset him so.

  He kept looking straight. If he lingered his gaze on any one Sha'Kar, he may prematurely lose his temper and do something rash, so he kept his eyes on the building with the Illusions that moved gracing its walls, kept his eyes on his goal. The Grand.

  They were waiting for him, of course. He was expecting it. Two Elder Sha'Kar were standing at the door in the shimmering robes, bowing to him before his feet touched the stairs up to that most austere of entrances. They led him into a receiving hall about the size of a noble's manor, stunningly done with chased gold etched the walls like vines of ivy, frozen in their climb to the ceiling. The light glowed from the walls, light that bothered Tarrin in a way, for it never dimmed, even when it was night. The Sha'Kar lived inside their homes in eternal light. He was led between immense staircases with silver plates on the steps, down a cavernous passage with an arched roof that had incredibly detailed paintings along its surface, Sha'Kar after Sha'Kar looking down on them in gentle benediction. Then the Sha'Kar gave way to silvery, web-like lines that crisscrossed the ceiling and the walls, even the floor, an artist's rendering of the Weave and its many strands. Then, at the end of the passage, was a set of double doors, upon them painted a relief of the Tower of Six Spires, in Suld. The detail was exacting and precise, and though the city skyline beyond the seven towers was unknown to him, the towers themselves were quite recognizable. It was the Suld of a thousand years ago, a Suld that had buildings as large as the Tower's main spire surrounding it. Not like the Suld of today, with its slapdash architecture that was a blend of old and new, Sulasian and other architectural styles.

  Those doors opened, and he found himself looking in on the council chambers of the Elders. It was even larger than the receiving chamber, but it was completely empty. It only had a single round table in its exact center, sitting atop a raised dais just like the daises upon which the Sha'Kar beds stood. The table had nine chairs, and seven of them were occupied. The two leading him took places at the empty chairs, and then sat down. Eight male and female Sha'Kar wearing those shimmering yellow robes, and the ninth, the Grand Syllis, decked out in his golden splendor. That one, with the serpent-like face and the golden eyes under golden hair, matching his golden robe, stood up and opened his arms. "Honored one, welcome to the Chamber of Wisdom," he said in his nasal voice. "We have awaited you."

  Tarrin summoned all his courage, all his will, and used it to push down the irrational, almost uncontrollable urge to go flying across that table and take off the arrogant ass' head. For a long moment, he dared not speak. All he could see was the girl, Zarina, writhing on the floor. All he could hear were here shrieks of mindless agony. His vision even hazed over with red, a clear warning to him he was bout to snap, but tight, controlled breathing and an unshakable knowledge that attacking the Council would get everyone killed kept his fury in check. The key to living with the rage is to learn how not to hurt those you care for while in rage, Triana had told him so long ago. In this case, he had to keep from hurting his friends by not flying into a rage. And so far, that had been enough.

  "You know where I am, Syllis," Tarrin said in a cold tone. "If you were so hungry for my company, you should have paid a call."

  "We have been busy with your quest, honored one," he said smoothly. "I personally and all of the Council have consulted our books of history and lore. But I regret to tell you that we found nothing of use to you within them. I am sorry we could not help you, honored one."

  Syllis was an accomplished liar. Had Tarrin hadn't had prior experience with Allia's scent, he may not have been able to smell the lie in Syllis' own scent. But it was there. His heart's rhythm changed slightly, his breathing shifted, and the faint fear-smell that came with lying appeared briefly in his scent, though it took it a moment to cross the table and reach Tarrin's nose. He was silent during that time, as he waited for the scent to reach him, staring at Syllis like he could kill him with a gaze. That brutal stare made the members of the Council shift a little in their seats, and one of them, the shortest female, pulled at the neck of her shimmering yellow robe uncomfortably.

  "I'm sure you did your best," Tarrin said in a tight voice. "We'll be here for five more days, as the ship we came in is repaired to make it seaworthy. When it's ready, we'll be leaving."

  "And how many will be leaving with you, honored one?" the Grand asked with a penetrating stare. "From what I've heard, your Lost companion is being courted by the nephew of your host. And I've heard that your da'shar servant and the Wikuni are enjoying our hospitality quite enthusiastically. Will they be leaving with you, or perhaps, will they stay and learn our customs? It would behoove both us and those in the towers for some of their own familiar with us to be there when we return to our ancestral positions within the towers. To smooth over any wrinkles that may arise as the humans readjust to us," he said with an oily smile.

  Was the man trying to set him off? The members of the Council seemed a little fearful a
s Tarrin's clenched fists shook briefly, and his expression became absolutely intense. What did the man know? He knew that Allia was indeed being courted by Allyn. Did he know how much it upset him? Did he know that Tarrin wasn't sure if he could trust his own sisters and the one human that had been his friend from the first day he'd been turned Were? Just what did he know? Whatever it was, it was putting the Sha'Kar at an advantage over him, and he needed to even the playing field. He needed a reply just as shocking to them as that had been to him. "They can stay if they wish. But I'm taking a few of yours back with me," he said. "Two of your human servants."

  "Yes, I've been informed. Whatever the servant did, and whatever you intend to do to her, I know you'll be glad to hear that we will bow to your judgement in punishing her."

  "That has nothing to do with it," Tarrin said, his eyes narrowing. Perhaps this was a good time to reveal that little bit of information. "I'm sure you'll be glad to get rid of them, Grand."

  "Why is that, honored one?"

  Tarrin gave him an absolutely monstrous, thoroughly evil little smile. "They're Druids."

  That one word sent a barely perceptible but monumental shockwave through the Council. He could see every one of their faces stiffen, every one of their jaws clench.

  "H-How do you know that, honored one?" he asked in sincere concern.

  "I'm a Were-cat, Syllis," he said with a slightly smug look. "I can sense a Druid. It's part of what I am. It's something you wouldn't understand." He looked at them. "Since I can see that the idea of a Druid among you makes you uncomfortable, I'll be glad to remove them from the island for you."

  They stared at him fearfully. Now he was certain that they were feverishly wondering what he knew. If they'd talked to that Sha'Kar he'd nearly killed earlier, they probably knew that he'd been outraged by his actions. If his actions were considered acceptable to all the other Sha'Kar, he knew that now they considered this a troubling problem. Tarrin was sui'kun, an honored one. He was one of the spiritual and political leaders of the katzh-dashi. That the honored one would show such violent outrage at an accepted custom among them could not make them feel very comfortable. He could see it in their faces. What did Tarrin know? Why bring up Druids? What did he know? He remembered them being so relieved when they found out Kimmie wasn't a Druid. That was the one thing they feared, above all others. But why?

  Why? That was very simple. Druids could block Sorcery. They feared anyone that had power over them.

  And they didn't know that their honored one was also a Druid.

  "We, ah appreciate your concern, honored one, but that's not necessary," Syllis said. "We would welcome these Druids with open arms."

  "I have a duty as a Were-cat to take them and deliver them to the Druids, Syllis," Tarrin told him calmly. "So they can be properly trained and take their place in our society. Which is much different from yours."

  "Ah, yes, Fae-da'Nar. I remember fondly my dealings with them before the Breaking. They were an honorable and actually a quite pleasant group with which to work. You are right, of course. Your duty as a member of Fae-da'Nar would compel you to take the two from here and deliver them to the Druids for training. I completely understand, honored one. You may take them with our blessing."

  Tarrin missed something. Syllis was calm again, even if the others at the table were not. Something Tarrin said had bled the worry out of him. What had he said? Nothing that could have relaxed the man, that much was certain. Just that he'd take them back with him because they needed to be trained--

  --maybe that was it. If they weren't trained, maybe Syllis wasn't afraid of them. At least not yet. After all, they couldn't do any harm until they were trained in the ways of Druidic magic.

  "Would your servants on the ship like our assistance?" Syllis asked. "I'm sure our magic can help them finish their work and return you to your most important task."

  "What they're doing is very delicate, and they'd be insulted if you barged in on them, Syllis," Tarrin answered cooly. "They'll finish on time. And it's only five extra days."

  "As you wish, honored one," he said with a very relaxed posture. He was completely calm now. "Are you comfortable with your hosts? Would you like us to get you anything special?"

  Tarrin looked at him. He was just too calm now. He had to stir him up again. A calm man wasn't apt to blurt things, where an upset man was. He quickly and furiously tried to think of something that may be a little controversial, but not outright damaging, like how he knew about the spells in the tattoos or something that would touch on his outrage. He didn't want to lose control of himself right now. Then he remembered Phandebrass' ramblings. It was something at least, something to buy him some time to think up something good. "Actually, I was wondering about something, and since I'm standing before the pearls of wisdom among the Sha'Kar, this would be a good time to ask."

  "We will help in any way we can, honored one," Syllis said grandly.

  "Me and the human Wizard read a book on your history since coming to the island, that our hosts gave us. It was an interesting book, but you see, some of its numbers don't add up."

  "Excuse me, honored one?"

  "Well, by our reckoning, there are three hundred and forty one Sha'Kar that are missing," he said calmly. "Their names appear in the book as arrivals or births, but there's no listing of their names concerning deaths. They're not on the island, and yet there's no record anywhere of them dying or leaving that we can find. I was wondering if you could explain this mystery to us. It has us quite baffled, since your people are such excellent record keepers."

  That hit something. All nine of them suddenly went pale beneath their brown skins, and they stared at Tarrin in shock. Tarrin had just thrown it out there because Phandebrass had mentioned it, and it was still very fresh in his mind. He'd needed something to try to stir them up, and it was the first, the only, thing he could think of. But to get a reaction like this? What did it mean? Why were they all so shocked, and now they looked frightened!

  "You say you read this in a book, honored one?" the Grand asked, his voice slightly worried.

  "A book given to me by Arlan's niece," he answered. "I think she got it from her family library."

  "Well, it's not much of a mystery, honored one," he explained, his voice strained in its attempt to stay calm. "Those ones missing from the records died in the ceremony of Ascension. They tried to duplicate the miracle that got us through the Ward, tried to escape outside and let the katzh-dashi know that we are here, and wait for our exile to end. Most of them attempted it when the plague struck us, and again after the volcano erupted and destroyed the city. We don't list them as having died in our records, for it's custom for us to pretend that they still live, trapped in the weaving of the Ward, waiting to be relased when it fails. So they were never listed as having died."

  Tarrin mulled that over, and found that his dates did more or less match. Phandebrass said most of them disappeared during that time. It was a reasonable explanation...but it wasn't a reasonable excuse for them to react so powerfully to him bringing it up. It was a good excuse...but it was still a lie.

  Something else had happened. Something serious.

  Whatever it was, it involved Iselde's father. They said that he died in the same ceremony.

  "That does coincide with what we found," Tarrin said calmly. "Phandebrass will be very happy you could explain it, Grand Syllis. He's something of a nitpicker. He can't stand it when he finds something that isn't complete."

  "Be sure to let him know we were happy to assuade his anxiety, honored one."

  Tarrin nodded, realizing that this was a mystery, and a very important one. If he could find out what really happened to the Sha'Kar that disappeared, he would have a weapon so formidable against the Council that they would do anything he wanted. And the best place to start would be Iselde.

  When he got back, he was going to kiss Phandebrass. The prattling mage, with his scattered thoughts and his half-baked observations, had struck on something that had
put the fear of the Goddess into the Council and the Grand. Phandebrass' uncanny knack for noticing small details, often at the expense of remembering to eat or what continent he happened to be on, had become critical. The disappearances of those Sha'Kar was something very important, judging from the reactions of the Council and the Grand. It was something that he had to find out, and find out quickly.

  Tarrin silently thanked the Goddess that it had stuck so freshly in his mind. He'd been looking for something, anything, to throw at the Council to unbalance them. He had struck gold. Absolute gold.

  "I won't take up any more of your time, Grand," Tarrin said cooly. "I'll return to my host's estate. If you want to talk, you know where to find me."

  "We will continue to search for you, honored one. If we find anything, we'll let you know."

  "I'm sure you will," Tarrin said quietly, turning his back to them and walking away.

  He had a piece of this puzzle now. Something to do with the disappearances of the Sha'Kar had frightened the Council when he brought it up. It was big, very big, something that he suspected would rock the Council back on its heels. Now he just had to figure out what it was. Once he did, he would have the ultimate weapon to use against them, something that would secure their unswerving cooperation.

  But there were other things to consider. There was coming a reckoning with Allia. He could feel it. He wasn't sure how he knew that, but it was almost hanging in the air. Allia was not going to take what he was going to tell her very well, and as strangely as she'd been acting lately, he had no idea how she was going to react. That frightened him. That he didn't know his own sister's mind...it was almost inconceivable. Allia's behavior had completely confused and worried him, because it was so irrational for her, and he didn't know how she was going to react when he broke the news about Zarina to her. He seriously doubted it would come to blows, but as strangely as she'd been acting, he just wasn't sure what was going to happen. She would either calmly accept his information, not believe him, be angry with him for telling her, or become furious with either him or Allyn. He fervently prayed that her reaction was not a violent one. Allia was Selani, and that meant that if she reacted with anger or outrage, if she felt her honor had been violated, she would strike to kill if she lashed out at Allyn. She wouldn't kill Tarrin if her anger was directed at him, because he was as her brother, and Selani did not kill Selani. It was the most sacred law of Fara'Nae, their goddess. That didn't mean that she wouldn't beat him senseless, but she wouldn't kill him.