He wasn't done yet. He had one more challenge ahead, Shiika's Imperial Palace. His friends, his sister, his bond-child, they were being held there. And he would get them back.
He had to. He had already gone past the point of no return. There could be no stopping now.
Scrambling onto his bridge of Air, Tarrin raced over the devastation he had wrought, nearly looking to those who looked that he was flying, his mind focused on one thing, one goal.
The Imperial Palace.
He had to get there before Shiika did, get there and get in, then find his friends and his family. And find the Book of Ages.
Tarrin, you fool! Shiika's voice echoed in his mind once again. Do you have any idea what you have done? Do you? You may have just killed us all! I know you can hear me, Were-cat! she thundered at him. Answer me!
Tarrin ran on, ignoring her mental voice.
I don't have your Allia or your friends! she said hotly. I had them put on a ship out of Dala Yar Arak! You just destroyed fifty years of careful planning for nothing!
That caused him to falter, then come up short. "Liar!" he challenged.
I wouldn't lie to you over this, she snapped in reply. I know you know that. I never dreamed you'd do something so stupid! You may have just plunged Arak into civil war!
Tarrin ignored her, running again, trying to race across before the bridge dissolved under his feet and sent him crashing into the debris below. What if it was true? Could she have freed his family and friends before hand? It was certainly possible. But even if that were true, it didn't change the fact that she had the book, and he needed it. So his goal was the same, except now he had to find out just where his family and friends were. If Allia could have spoken to him with her amulet, she would have by now. So either the Demoness was lying, or she had Allia tied up so she couldn't put her hand on the amulet.
Answer me, damn you! I don't have your precious family! Don't force me to have my brood attack you, Tarrin! You know you can't win against them!
He ignored her, setting his feet on solid ground and racing towards the commanding structure that was the Imperial Palace of Dala Yar Arak. He could win against them now. He was not afraid of them.
Damn you, Tarrin, if you touch that book, the magic that keeps it hidden is going to be disrupted! Every two copper mage and priest from here to Saranam is going to know exactly where it is! You won't get it out of Dala Yar Arak alive! The ki'zadun will converge on you like a school of sharks! You fool, don't you realize that I've been protecting the book? I don't want the Firestaff found any more than you do! Give up this madness and let me keep the book protected! Nobody will take it from me, despite what you've done here today!
He ignored her. That didn't matter. He needed that book, his Goddess commanded him to find it, and he was going to do just that. It didn't matter that their goals were generally similar, and part of him wanted to strip her of the book to spite her for her cruel disruption of his life, her attempts to kill him, for kidnapping his friends and family. He would do what he was commanded to do, and it was just a fortunate bonus that it would hurt her in the process.
He raced on, ignoring the long tirade of colorful curses issuing from Shiika's strange mental voice within his mind. His goal was the Imperial Palace, and the prize he had sought for so many months, the prize that Faalken had sacrificed himself for them to reach, the prize that had caused him so much anguish and pain, was visible before him. He would not be denied now. His rage had become focus, an awareness of mission that allowed him to execute his plans with a curious detachment. There was no emotion now. There was only the plan, the mission, a task that must be completed.
He would take the Book of Ages from Shiika. At any cost.
It was maddenly confusing.
Allia leaned back against the wall of the covered wagon in which they'd been loaded, one of the black-skinned Cambions sitting at the far end with his sword drawn. It made no sense for them to load them into a wagon and send them rumbling through the streets of Dala Yar Arak. They were all there, except for Tarrin and Sarraya, and all of them had their hands tied and mouths gagged. Phandebrass' pet drakes were there too, held in a cage that sat under the bench against the wall just behind the driver's seat, looking just as frightened as Jula. Jula strained against the heavy chains they'd used to bind her, a wild look in her eyes, and she was the one the Cambion watched the most. Jula seemed to share Tarrin's hatred and phobic fear of being imprisoned, and it was showing in her more and more as the wagon ambled along.
Everything that had happened had been… strange. First the Demons had attacked them in their new house, attacked them and subdued them with almost shameful ease. The females, the ones with wings, they had some sort of strange effect on the others. Allia had been ready to fight until she looked one of them in the eye, and then it was like a wool blanket had been laid over her will. The magical subdual of them was universal, none of them escaped it. The memory of what happened next was hazy, but she did remember being placed in some sort of bedchamber for a while, alone. Not a prison cell, not a torture chamber, but a rather nicely appointed bedchamber with a single door, whose only obvious magical defense was that she could not speak so long as she was within. There was absolutely no sound at all, a deafening silence that quite effectively prevented her from using her amulet to contact her brother or sister. They had even thought to provide food and drink, very well prepared food and chilled wine. That confused her more than anything else. The Demoness had captured them, but treated them like anything but prisoners. They had not even bothered to take their weapons.
And then after spending a night in those gilded cells, they were tied up, put on a wagon, and now they were rolling along the streets of the city. She had no idea why they were being moved. It seemed illogical to run that risk. Tarrin was still out there, still free, and bringing them out of the Demoness' fortified Palace was a terrible risk. Tarrin commanded powerful magic, magic that he could use to locate his friends. At any moment, she expected him to explode through the canvas roof of the wagon, appear and do battle with the Cambion holding them.
But he didn't appear.
That worried her. After an entire night and morning, he should have managed to locate them. Why was he not coming to their rescue? They had been on the slow-moving wagon for nearly an hour. They had all heard the explosion, a sure sign that Tarrin was still alive, well, and present within the city, but there was no contact from him, no appearance to help them. Why? Surely he had not abandoned them. He had to know where she was, where they were, and he should be coming to aid them.
Where was he?
The wagon rambled to a stop. The Cambion looked out the flap in the canvas that hid the wagon's interior, then popped his head back in. Right before them, his features shifted, flowed, changed, going from an inhuman creature to a rather attractive Arakite man. "This is as far as we go," he announced. "I'm going to unload you, and you're going to do what I say. You're going to get onto a ship, and you're not going to argue about it. Understand?" he said, holding up his sword. He threw aside the flap of the wagon's canvas, and what was outside sent Jula into a fit of thrashing, screaming "no!" over and over again.
It was a low-prowed scow, propelled by oars. And through one of those oarlocks she could see a man chained, holding onto his oar.
It was a slaver.
Jula thrashed and pulled, snapping the chains that held her, and then a low growl began to rise in her throat. Allia scrambled back fearfully. She had seen this happen before. The fear was getting the best of her, and she was just about to snap, go into a rage. And if that happened, none of them would be safe. But the Cambion advanced quickly and easily on her, slamming her on the side of the head with the hilt of his sword to quell her outburst. Her head snapped to the side, and she sagged slightly in her seat. But then she looked up at him, looked at him with eyes that were totally devoid of rational thought.