You did so. You said, and I quote, "Goddess, Miranda's not a Wikuni!"
"You answered to that?"
Of course I did, silly, she chuckled in reply. I always keep an ear out for you, my kitten. If you call me, I will hear. I may not respond, but I will hear it. I am never more than a call away from you.
"You make it sound like I have you on a leash."
She laughed again. In a strange way, you do, she replied. But I don't do tricks.
"We'll see."
That made her laugh again. Be well, my sweet one. We'll speak again later.
And then she was gone, taking a little piece of his soul with her, making him feel peculiarly empty inside.
Tarrin looked up at the sky, at the moons. He could hear the song, feel it in his soul, but now he associated it with Miranda, and that made him think about his friends in Wikuna. It conjured up images and memories of Keritanima and Miranda, of Azakar and Kerri's indomitable protectors, Binter and Sisska. Good friends, dear friends, far far away. He missed them. He missed Keritanima's sharp wit and quick smiles. He missed Miranda's calm, unruffled ways and her soothing presence. He missed Azakar's quiet curiosity, how the big man would silently watch and learn. He missed the powerful security of Binter and Sisska, ever present and always making them all feel safer. He yearned for the time before, when it was him and Allia and Keritanima, siblings by bonds of soul and brand, sealed to one another. Those were good times, and he had squandered so much of it with his quiet brooding. So much time lost, because he was so afraid of himself that he wouldn't open up to his sisters. But there would be more good times. Keritanima wouldn't be in Wikuna forever, and she could find them easily when she was ready to return. He just had to hang on until she arrived, keep from killing himself and keeping enemies like Kravon and Jegojah off his back until she could find her way back to him.
He held his amulet gingerly, wanting to call out to Keritanima, wanting to hear her voice, but worried that others would hear. Worried that she would be asleep, worried that him bothering her would interrupt whatever dishonest deeds she was perpetrating there. No, it would be best if she contacted him, because he wasn't in quite such a position of danger, should a voice suddenly issue forth from his amulet. He could wait. Tarrin was a very patient person when it came to some things.
He looked up at the moons, his soul surrendering to the song it sang to him, staring up at its white perfection. But now an image of Miranda seemed to lay over the surface of the White Moon, an image of a dear friend, smiling down on him with her cheeky grin and making him feel wonderfully secure.
And giving him hope for the future.
They spotted the first strip of desert two days later, off the port bow. It was what Renoit said was the Sand Fingers, extensions of sand-covered rock that extended from the shoreline like the fingers of a titanic hand. That geographical landmark was vital to most ships, because it meant that Saranam, the capital city of the small kingdom of the same name, was only half a day out. Saranam was the kingdom created to put a buffer between Arak and the Selani, a narrow strip of kingdom that separated the two distrustful groups. It had evolved into a miniature Wikuna, a small nation of sharp traders that had made a name for itself in the few hundred years it had been in existence.
The two days had been uneventful. He was still too angry to deal with Camara Tal, so Dolanna made sure that the Amazon was nowhere near him at all times. She stayed on the sterncastle or off the deck when he was above, and stayed out of his room when he was below. It was a cooling-off time for him, something with which Dolanna was all too familiar, and she knew exactly how to arrange it so he wasn't tempted. He spent nearly all that time either with Allia or Dar, finding solace in the presence of his sister or passing time with the only other person close to his own age. Dar was younger than him, and only came up to his ribcage, but he was a good solid friend that always made the time go by quickly with conversation or games. Tarrin usually had alot on his mind, but just as he did with Allia, he didn't let Dar forget that they were friends. Just as he set aside special time each evening to devote to his sister, he started putting aside the time between Dar's lesson and his practice for the circus to spend with him.
Tarrin and Dar stood at the rail, watching the longest-reaching finger go by as the performers went about their daily routines of practice and sailing. He had learned to tune them out some time ago, making him feel that he was alone on deck. And that helped his mood, because he didn't like people staring at him or flinching from him when he approached. The young Arkisian had just come from another long discussion with Phandebrass, and he had one of the drakes with him. Tarrin could finally tell them apart, if only by scent, so he knew that it was Chopstick that stood on the back of the young man's neck, forepaws on the top of his head, looking out with them. Tarrin and the drakes had reached a mutual understanding. He wouldn't attack them so long as they didn't bother him. They didn't pester him for attention as they did Allia, but they wouldn't flee from him anymore. Turnkey, the one he saved, would even land on his shoulder and let him pet it from time to time.
"So what did that mage have to say this time?" Tarrin asked. Dar had been going to Phandebrass after his instruction with Dolanna for a while now, learning things about science that they didn't teach in the Tower. Phandebrass was a mage, but he was also a scholar, and his scope of knowledge was impressive.
"We talked about light," he replied. "I didn't know it could be so complicated."
"With Phandebrass, everything is complicated," Tarrin replied. "I think he goes out of his way to murk things up, so they can fit into his idea of the way things should be."
"Who knows?" Dar chuckled. "He showed me a piece of glass called a prism. When you hold it at the right angle to the sun, it refracts the sunlight and breaks it up into its components. Did you know that light is made up of seven different colors? And that they're the same colors as what's on the shaeram?"
"No, I didn't. And they probably just used the colors of light when they created the order."
"That doesn't explain why the Spheres show up as the same colors," he challenged. "Maybe Sorcery and light are related somehow, for them to break down in the exact same manner."
"Now you sound like Phandebrass," Tarrin noted dryly. "If light is seven colors, why can't we see them?"
"Because they mix together, and that makes it look white," he replied.
"Then why is the sky blue instead of white?"
"I asked the same thing. He said that the sunlight hits the air at an angle that makes the air absorb or reflect away most of the other colors, making the sky appear to be blue. And when it's sunrise or sunset, the sun strikes the air at a different angle, which makes it look a different color."
"Strange. That sounds like it almost makes sense. But if the sky absorbs everything but blue, why doesn't everything look blue?"
"He said that the sky's color is just the light that got affected. We can't see all the other light, because it never reaches our eyes. Who knows what color the sky would be if we could see all the light at once?"
"He knows how to cover all the angles," Tarrin chuckled.
"It does make sense," Dar said defensively.
"Sorta, but I don't see why you'd be so curious about light. After all, it's just here. What good does it do to know how it works?"
"Because I like to know how things work," he stated. "I don't just accept everything the way you do."
"Call it a cat thing," he replied blandly.
"You still mad at Camara Tal?" he asked curiously.
"A little, but I'll get over it," he replied.
"I think she tries too hard," he noted. "She wants to be your friend, but she keeps trying to make it happen. Maybe she should just step back and let it happen."
"That would be good advice," Tarrin said with a nod. He looked at Dar closely. "I think it's about time for you to start shaving, Dar. You're getting fuzzy."