Tarrin Kael Firestaff Collection Book 2 - The Questing Game by Fel ©

by James Galloway (aka Fel)

  On the deck, Tarrin could now clearly hear Dolanna as she continued her lesson with her students. Tarrin should be there, he knew he should, but studying Sorcery like that seemed a waste of time to him now, and he didn't feel like studying at the moment. He was powerful. In fact, he was so powerful that he couldn't even control his own ability. It would always get away from him, and the power of High Sorcery would rush into him like a flood, threatening to burn him to ash. Nobody understood why this was the case, nor had anyone ever found a way to help him control it. So Sorcery was as dangerous to him as silver, something always right over his shoulder, but threatening death should he try to use it. Over the months, he had grown accustomed to that. Besides, he didn't need Sorcery to protect himself. His Were nature gave him all the weapons he needed. He had to admit that he liked Sorcery. He liked the feel of it, the flow of the magic through him, and the ability to use it to do things that he usually couldn't do. But he was wise enough to keep those thoughts out of his mind. To try now would be inviting death, and Dolanna had expressly forbidden him to even try while they were at sea. A single slip could destroy the ship upon which they travelled, and it was an exceptionally long swim back to shore.

  "Fire weaves are commonly called battlemagic," she was teaching her students. "For obvious reasons. Most weaves that are fire-dominated are offensive weaves, but it does have other uses. Just as weaves of other flows can be offensive. Even weaves of Earth can be very dangerous, if you know how to put them together. Fire's most common partner in weaves is Air," she said, holding up her other hand, where another ball of fire appeared. "Air intensifies weaves of Fire, and helps direct and control them. But occasionally, flows of Earth or Divine power take Air's place."

  "Does Fire ever get woven together with Water?" Dar asked.

  "Of course," she replied with smile. "The most powerful fire weaves include flows of Fire and Water."

  "Shouldn't they just cancel each other out?"

  "Not always," she told him. "In Sorcery, sometimes what seems to be logical in actuality is not. Sorcery obeys its own rules, Dar." Dar gave her a curious look, but said nothing. "Alright, Dar, copy this weave. Pay attention to your flows, now."

  Tarrin almost closed his eyes when Miranda began scratching him behind the ears, but he kept them open long enough to watch Dar's hand become limned in fire, which coalesced into a small ball over his hands. "Very good. This is a basic combat spell, young ones. You throw it, and it will explode against whatever it strikes. The flows of Air allow you to direct it to your target, so it does not require actual skill with throwing."

  Tarrin surrendered to Miranda's fingers at that point, closing his eyes and putting his head down, letting her have her way with him. He listened as Dolanna described the mechanics of the weave, how it moved on a thread of controlled air to its target, then detonated its stored energy on physical impact. It was curious how physical contact could ignite magical energy, and he considered it for a while as Dar and Allia practiced hurling the little fireballs over the side of the ship, where the detonated against the cold waters of the Sea of Storms in little steaming puffs. For Allia to get that close to the rail was an accomplishment. Allia was born and raised in the desert, and she had a fear of such large bodies of water. She always stayed as far from the rails as she could, and wouldn't come into the rigging because it made her look at the fact that they were surrounded by water. She did know how to swim, Tarrin had taught her in the Tower's bathing pool, and he felt that she just needed one instance where she had to face that fear, and she would get over it. She wasn't controlled by her fears.

  Not like him.

  "That's no way to treat Tarrin, Miranda," Keritanima's voice called from just in front of him. He didn't bother to open his eyes, for Miranda was still scratching his ears.

  "He doesn't seem to mind, Highness," Miranda said with a chuckle. "Besides, it's good for him."

  "Miranda, dear, Tarrin can understand you," Keritanima said with a giggle. "I'd be careful what I say."

  "There's nothing I'd say behind his back I wouldn't say to his face, Highness," Miranda said idly, gently pinching the tip of his ear. "Me and Tarrin are good friends. Aren't we, Tarrin?"

  Tarrin waggled his tail a couple of times and meowed in agreement.

  "Tarrin needs some good old fashioned spoiling," Miranda said in a light voice, stroking his head and neck in a way that made him immediately go limp. "It's good for him."

  "Well, don't spoil him too much," Keritanima said.

  "Oh, I'd never do that," Miranda said with a light chuckle, petting him again.

  "Keritanima," Dolanna said sharply. "We are not done yet today."

  "You're not teaching anything I don't already know, Dolanna," the Wikuni replied, a bit tartly. "My teacher, well, she kind of went beyond the normal scope of instruction."

  "Yes, Lula does tend to do that with students who are capable," she said calmly, mainly to herself.

  And so Keritanima padded off with Dolanna's consent, going below decks.

  Tarrin listened to Dolanna continue, even as Miranda's scratching fingers sought to distract him. It was a long journey they were on, and it was dangerous. Tarrin had been charged by the Goddess of magic to find a lost artifact called the Firestaff. It was a very powerful device, made so long ago that nobody remembered the creators, and inside it was the echoes of the power of Creation that the goddess Ayise used when she made the world. Though it was just an impression of that original power, it was still more than enough to do nearly anything. Once every five thousand years, at a specific time of day, the staff would activate, and imbue the person who was holding it with the powers of an Elder God. It was just this possibility that he had been charged to prevent. If Tarrin got the Firestaff first, he would either destroy it or ensure that nobody could ever get to it. Throwing it into a volcano or the middle of the ocean seemed like good places, but he much preferred the idea of destroying it. That way it could never threaten anyone ever again.

  If anything, he was a very unwilling participant in this. It went against his Were nature to agree to obey another, even a goddess, but he had done just that. It was against his nature to subvert his freedom to another, but he had done just that. It was against his instincts to do what he was doing, but he was doing just that. All because what he was doing was that important. If someone got hold of the Firestaff and used it, the Goddess had already spelled out what would happen. It would be a war. The Elder Gods would have to destroy the newcomer, because the new god would not be constrained by the same rules as the others. He would be a wild card, an unknown, and his very existence could threaten the entire world. The destruction wrought by that war would be devastating to the world, for it would be their battleground. In one way, it had already begun. Tarrin was not the only person hunting the Firestaff at the behest of a god. The war had already begun through the human agents of gods that wanted the Firestaff. The Goddess had called it the Questing Game, and right now, it was dominating the world. Many people, groups, organizations, and powerful leaders were either hunting for the Firestaff or had agents doing it for them. Tarrin was just one among many, but he was a Mi'Shara, a nonhuman noble-born wielder of Sorcery, and that was supposed to give him an advantage. He had no idea how or why, but it was.

  There were alot of things he didn't know about what he was doing, and there were some he wished he didn't know. They had already gathered to talk about going to Dala Yar Arak. That was the first step, the Goddess had told him, because that was where the Book of Ages, an ancient tome of history, was reputed to be hidden. In the book was information they needed to find the Firestaff. It turned out that Dala Yar Arak was going to be a serious problem. It was the largest city in the world, in the heart of the empire of Yar Arak, and that was the root of their problem. Yar Arak was the largest nation in the world, but it was a savage, oppressive tyranny, ruled by an Emperor, and it was by his whim that he ruled. Arakites were considered to be the pinnacle of achievement and breeding, and non-Araki
tes were looked down upon. Non-humans were automatically considered to be property of the state, slaves for the Empire, a rule that had started after the Selani invaded Yar Arak and humiliated them. Slavery was an institution in Yar Arak, and even the lowliest Arakite had at least one outlander slave to attend him. The only non-humans that could go to Yar Arak and not be automatically enslaved were the Wikuni, and that was because only the Wikuni provided Yar Arak with vital traded goods. And even then, they were only permitted to trade at Dala Yar Arak, and they were restricted to a very small section around the docks called the Low District. This put Tarrin and Allia at a terrible risk, for Tarrin would be very, very valuable to the Arakite nobles, who collected rare and exotic slaves as status pieces, and all Arakites hated the Selani with a passion. Should she be captured in Dala Yar Arak, Allia wouldn't live more than a few hours. It seemed it would be easy to just use the Low District, but things weren't that easy. Keritanima was a Wikuni High Princess, even though she had rejected her title, and that made her presence dangerous to them in the Low District. The Wikuni priests could communicate over great distances, and there was no doubt that the Wikuni enclave in Dala Yar Arak already knew that Keritanima had run away, and probably had orders to either send her packing back to Wikuna, or kill her outright.

  For Tarrin, it represented the ultimate horror. Tarrin had a phobia about being caged or imprisoned, it was an instinctive reaction from his Cat half, and being put into slavery would definitely qualify. It would trigger a rage, and he would go berzerk. There was no telling how many people he would kill trying to flee from Dala Yar Arak. Tarrin's very precarious condition had figured into Dolanna's thinking, but she still had not come up with a solid plan to get them to Dala Yar Arak and keep them there safely. It was something that she was still working on.

  The Goddess had sent him to the last place in the world he needed to be, but he had to obey her. He just had to.

  Tarrin's relationship with his goddess was very unusual. He acknowledged her as his patroness, but never overtly worshipped her. She talked to him from time to time, and when she did, it was more like person to person than goddess to mortal. He loved her, deeply, but it didn't feel like loving a deity. It was more like loving a very good friend. He did believe in her, and had faith in her, however. It was the only reason he had agreed to work for her. But in his mind, she was more than a goddess, just as she was more than a friend. She held a unique position in his life, an unseen, mystical presence that quietly and gently led him down the path he needed to travel. She didn't speak to him often, not often at all, but when she did, it seemed more like a parent checking in on a child than a visitation from a Goddess to her subject. Tarrin's complicated relationship with the Goddess seemed strange to him, yet at the same time, since he'd never really talked to a god before, he had no idea what normal was supposed to be.

  "Land ho!" a voice called from high above. Tarrin opened his eyes and looked up, where a single sailor in the crow's nest was pointing to the bow. "Land ho!"

  Miranda cradled Tarrin in the crook of her arm and stood up, then walked over to the rail. Just on the horizon before them, angled slightly off to the left, a dim green-brown strip was visible, if only just barely. "He has good eyes, I'll give him that," Miranda said, shielding her eyes from the noontime sun and peering in that direction. "I'd guess that that's the northern coast of Shacè, if Captain Kern isn't off course."

  Tarrin wriggled out of her grasp and dropped to the deck, then shifted back into his humanoid form. He stood at the rail by her, looking over, as Allia and Dar joined them. Allia shielded her eyes from the sun and looked in that direction, using her almost magical eyesight to survey the coast. "There's a small fishing village there," she announced. "They fly the flag of Shacè."

  "Then we can't be too far from Den Gauche," Dar said, looking that way himself.

  "Why must we stop there?" Allia asked.

  "To pick up supplies," Miranda replied. "They're getting low on food, and the water casks are getting pretty light."

  "Why must we carry water? It is all around us."

  "Seawater is salt water, Allia," Dar told her. "We can't drink it. It'll make us sick."

  "I did not know that."

  "Well, you do now," Miranda said. "Besides, I think a few of us wouldn't mind a day or two on solid land. I may be Wikuni, but I've never really liked sea travel."

  "That sounds almost unnatural," Dar chuckled. "I thought Wikuni were born with seawater in their blood."

  "Not this one," Miranda said bluntly.

  Keritanima came back up on deck. "Did they call land ho?" she asked as she approached. Dolanna and the warriors also gathered by the rail, and they all were looking landward.

  "Allia says we're off the coast of Shacè," Dar told her.

  "Kern's a good man. I wouldn't doubt he knows exactly where we are," she said approvingly. "For looking like a garbage scowl, this ship moves pretty quickly."

  "How long are we going to be in port?" Faalken asked. "I need to buy a few things."

  "I think the captain said we would be moored for two days," Dolanna answered. "It will take them time to resupply, and Kern said he has a cargo to pick up to take to Dayisè." She hooded her eyes from the sun. "Dayisè is our real destination for now, so let us hope we do not run into any delays."

  "Why are you so bent on getting to Dayisè, Dolanna?" Faalken asked.

  "Because Renoit may still be there," she said. "If he has not left yet, we may be able to go with him."

  "Ren-who?"

  "Renoit," she repeated. "He is the master of Renoit's Most Excellent Travelling Circus. He has a schedule of sorts, and travels to Dala Yar Arak every spring to perform. It is he that will be our ticket into Yar Arak, provided we get to Dayisè before he leaves."

  "How do you know that?"

  "Because Renoit performs in Dala Yar Arak every year," she replied. "His is one of the entertainments during the Festival of the Sun. He has performed there for the last fifteen years. I do not see any reason why his plans would change." She looked around, and saw that everyone had their attention on her. "I am sure that all of you understand the, dangers, of going to Dala Yar Arak," she began. "To Tarrin, Allia, and our Wikuni and Vendari friends. Well, Renoit's circus is exempted from that law, for he has Wikuni performers, and the Emperor himself requests Renoit's circus to come and perform during the festival. They are safe from the laws of non-human slavery. If we join with him, there is a good chance we can move about Dala Yar Arak without fear of enslavement."

  "Now that's a clever idea," Faalken had to agree. "But there's just one problem."

  "What is that?"

  "Getting Allia into a jester's costume."

  "I will show you a jester, human," Allia said in a dangerous tone, coming around Tarrin and heading for the jovial Knight.

  "Where did you learn about Renoit?" Keritanima asked as Allia smacked Faalken a few times as the Knight laughed.

  "I once travelled with them from Telluria to Tor," she replied. "Renoit's circus is excellent, and he performs at ports all over the Sea of Storms."

  "It's strange that he only performs at ports."

  "Not when you realize that his circus owns a ship, Keritanima," Dolanna replied. "He once confided in me that port cities are wealthier, so there is more money to be made there. And his ship allows him to travel to places where the circus is always new and exciting for the inhabitants."

  "Clever. I don't think I've ever heard of a ship-based circus."

  "His company is unique," she agreed. "He does not have many animals, due to ship space concerns, but he more than makes up for it with his acts. He has jugglers, strongmen, knife throwers, acrobats, people who perform on tightropes and trapezes, clowns and jesters, and dancers from every part of the Known World. The displays of native dances always are a favorite with the crowds."

  "Do you think we'll catch him?"

  "I hope to," she sighed. "The Festival of the Sun is not for three months, but he occasionally
stops and has performances on the way to Dala Yar Arak. If he has booked in Tor, Shoran's Fork, or Arkisia for instance, he will leave early."

  "Did I mention already that I'm glad you're here?" Keritanima asked.

  Dolanna chuckled. "No, but I thank you for the compliment," she smiled graciously.

  Tarrin wandered off on his own, lost in thought. A circus. That was a good idea, especially since it would allow him to go to Yar Arak without fear of being enslaved. Well, it actually wasn't much of a fear. Tarrin's inhuman abilities would make it unbelievably hard for anyone to keep him under control without magic. He was worried more for his sisters than he was for himself. Of course, freeing himself from that enslavement would undoubtedly fill him with even more remorse and guilt than he already had, but his sisters were more important to him than himself. He just didn't trust himself anymore. He dreaded the idea of having to get off the ship, but at the same time, being stuck on the ship had been pressing at his temper considerably. In many ways, the ship felt like a mobile prison, and he had nowhere to go, nothing to do. The ship's confines had done much to erode his good nature, but at least there was no danger on the ship. Nothing that would throw him into another rage.

  But he was paying the price for that safety, and he knew that he just had to get off the ship when it docked, no matter what. He needed time in the open, whether there were people or enemies there or not.

  "Ship ho!" the lookout called again. "Three ships off the starbord stern!"