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Given the Were-cat's nearly supernatural ability to extricate himself from tight situations, she had started to worry. Perhaps she should have killed him when she had the chance. She liked her status and her position, she liked her security. She liked not being in the Abyss, where she would be struggling just to survive. She actually enjoyed being among humans, and had started to take a sincere interest in the idea of ruling her Empire. An Empire she had left to whatever petty Emperor she had enslaved at the time, most of which weren't terribly bright. No, she was very happy right where she was, and she wasn't about to jeopardize her position. She had certainly given him ample reason to come after her. She was holding his sister, and she had told him bluntly that she had the Book of Ages. For all the good it would do him.

She'd read the book. And the location of the Firestaff was not in its pages.

But she liked him. He was clever, intense, amusing. He had fire, he had passion. That appealed to her, in a strange way. She wasn't romatically inclined towards him, but she had to admit that she was impressed by his zeal and his strength. It would be a shame to kill a man like that. She would so much prefer it if he would just leave. She would even release his friends unharmed… except for Jula. Jula was hers now, to replace the broodling that Tarrin killed. It was only fair, after all. But not the book. He couldn't have that. Releasing the book would threaten her position… because though the location of the Firestaff was not directly in its pages, she had the feeling that with the book, someone could find out where it was. There were many things in the book, a great many things.

Despite what he thought, they were both trying to do the same thing. Neither of them wanted anyone to find the Firestaff. It would destroy her comfortable life if someone used it and spurred another war of the same scale as the Blood War, a war she had seen personally, some five thousand years before. She would not let that happen again. She may be a Demon, but her own personal comfort mattered more to her than the power of her kind. He was trying to find the Firestaff to keep it away from everyone else. Well, she was trying to keep anyone from finding it in the first place. That was another reason she didn't want to kill him. If she failed, if someone did find the Firestaff, she'd trust him with it much more than she would anyone else. At least he had the willpower to resist the temptation the Firestaff presented, a willpower she feared was going to come back to haunt her.

It was unwise to take Allia. It had been a hasty decision, and she had learned over the years that the mistakes caused by a hasty decision often took ten times longer to correct than it took to make the decision. She understood that now. Tarrin was out there. He was not out of control, and he'd been out of sight for quite a while. She was holding everything that mattered to the Were-cat, and there was no telling what he would do now that he'd been stripped of his family. The only thing she was sure that he wouldn't do would be to go stark raving mad and start destroying the local geography. The man had an infuriating knack for coming out on top, and she was worried that he'd found that same edge to use on her that had caused him to defeat stronger enemies before.

Shiika hadn't survived as long as she had because she was a fool.

Anayi, she sent out her thought. Demons were telepathic by nature, and allowed her to communicate with all of her brood wherever they were. She sent out her thought to Anayi, her blond daughter.

Mother?

Move the Selani and her friends, she ordered. Get them out of the Palace. Send them to the south wharf, free them, and then put them on a ship bound for anywhere but here.

What about the female Were-cat, mother?

She goes as well, daughter. He's just as fanatical over her as he is over the others. I have a bad feeling that Tarrin is coming for them. I want leverage against him, and it won't work if we have even one of them.

If I free them, you can't use them, mother, she pointed out respectfully.

He won't know that, daughter, Shiika replied calmly. Just make sure you keep the Selani gagged until you free her. That should give your brothers enough time to midirect him when he arrives.

You believe he is crazy enough to attack the Palace?

Daughter, I've studied this one for a long time, and I've learned that he's not afraid of anything, she replied. I was probably foolish for letting him live, but I just can't bring myself to kill him. I admire him too much.

I will do what you command, mother, Anayi replied. Immediately.

She broke her contact, satisfied. If he tried anything, his friends could be used to delay him, to bribe his good conduct.

She turned her attentions back to the games. Perhaps there would be something good to see today. She watched with little interest as the first of the matches began, two Arakite gladiators fighting in a singles match. They were both well trained, and the spectacle didn't hold her attention.

Her interest exploded when she saw a flash of yellow in the crowd facing her private box. She saw it again, moving through the crowd, and her heart started thumping in her chest when she saw the spectators on the far side suddenly beginning to scatter, scattering in the path of something they did not want anything to do with.

Impossible! It couldn't be him! How would he know where she was? She stood up quickly, hands on the arms of her throne, and then she saw him. Even from such a distance, he could see the fury in his stance, the abject hatred burning in his radiant green eyes.

"What is it, my dear?" the Emperor asked her curiously.

For the first time in nearly five thousand years, Shiika felt fear.

He felt nearly outside of himself.

Tarrin moved into the huge arena quickly after reaching it, not bothering to hide himself in his human form, moving with a fast, determined gait that caused anyone to look at him melt from his path. He was angry, very, very, angry, and every step made it worse. Shiika was in there, somewhere, and when he found her, he would make her regret what she did to his sister, to his friends. He had plans. Yes, he had a very simple plan to deal with her, and another to retrieve his friends and family from her Palace without getting them killed.

Moving through the robed Arakites quickly and steadily, he found his way to the stands. She had to be in a private area of the arena, a special seat that overlooked the floor, a place with a good view. He needed to see the arena, see how it was laid out, to know where she would be. She was the Empress, so her place would be exalted, and it would be obvious. Once he found her, he would make her pay for what she did.

Outside, Tarrin walked along a ledge on the stands leading down to the floor of the arena, looking out at its construction. Immediately, he knew where she was, a very impressive filled area on the far side, which had only one small balcony which held several figures. One of them he could immediately recognize as Shiika, in her human disguise. And the sight of her all but sent him flying to a violent rage. Seeing her relax, seeing her lounge about while the Goddess only knew what was happening to his friends-at her hands!-was nearly too much. His eyes igniting from within with their unholy glow, a visible mark of his rage, he snarled wordlessly in her direction and started quickly down the steps, to the ledge marking the end of the stands.

He needed an unobstructed path to the Demon's balcony.

Throwing people out of his way, people who had just begun to look in his direction rather than down at the barbaric activity occurring on the arena's floor, Tarrin stalked through them with his pulse pounding in his ears, a reddish haze filming over his eyes. He was absolutely furious, and he welcomed it. He was intentionally trying to work himself up, to find that plateau of pure fury that gave him the ability to control his Sorcery with absolute precision. He would need it to get to the Demon, to reach her in her high, lofty perch. The people in front of him began screaming in fear and scattering before him, and that was good enough for him. He started moving towards the waist-high ledge that ended the seats, a wall that was twenty spans high when looking at it from the floor, a wall that ended on each side of the flat surface that supported the Emperor's private seats. He reached that ledge, jumping atop it directly facing the Emperor and Empress of Yar Arak, staring at the Demoness Shiika with every bit as much hatred and rage as he felt inside.