"You're such an optomist," he grunted, slinking deeper into the alley. He waited as she got more comfortable on his back, after getting moved when he hunkered down to hide from the men. When she was settled, he turned and started for the other end of the alleyway. He didn't want to bounce her around, so he moved carefully, but with as much speed as he could manage with her injuries. "I have a plan, we just need to get some distance from the Palace."
"You and your plans," she huffed. "Was tricking me into taking the first hit part of your plan?"
"Don't start with me, or I'll carry you in my teeth," he warned as they disappeared from sight.
"At least then you'd shut up!"
"You weren't supposed to be there!"
There was a silence. "Sorry about that. I saw the Book, and I guess I just lost my head."
"It happens. Now get our bony butt out from between my shoulder blades. It hurts."
"Don't talk to me about bone, Tarrin! I must be sitting on a pile of them!"
"They're yours."
"Jerk."
"I love you too," his chuckle echoed silently through the alley, for those capable of hearing it. "I love you too."
GoTo: Title EoF
Chapter 29
Sarraya wasn't that heavy, but she got heavier and heavier as they moved.
Then again, his mind wasn't very involved with her weight on his back, as she rode him like a horse. He was occupied with everything that had happened, and it caused him to all but be led around by Sarraya as they sought to distance themselves from the Imperial Palace .
It was over. He had the Book of Ages. It had been so long in coming, it almost didn't sound right to him to think it. He really never looked forward to this moment, and if he had, he certainly wouldn't have imagined it happening the way it did, being where he was right then. He had the book. He had had to battle the book's guardian for possession of it, a huge Demonic creature of untold power, but he had defeated it. And that was what made him think so much. He had used Druidic power to gain the upper hand, used a type of magic other than Sorcery to bring his sword to him, to give him the advantage. And it had brought him the victory.
It went against everything he was taught. They always told him that no being could wield more than two orders of magic. It was against the will of Ayise, the Allmother, the greatest of the Elder Gods. If that were true, then he was an abomination, existing outside the natural order of the world. But then again, he probably already did. Him and all the other Were-cats along with him.
That was a scary thought. It meant that all the Were-cats were like him. They all had at least a tiny amount of Druidic talent, but every single one of them could learn to use some other kind of magic. They could also be Priests, or learn the traditions of arcane Wizard magic. A race of super-powerful beings, superior to mankind and wielding a magic against which they could not stand, it was frightening.
But that would never happen. The Were-cats didn't desire domination. Only a shady meadow, lots of squirrels to chase, and the occasional pleasure of an old friend coming to visit. They were a simple breed, a simple people, and their instincts made them curiously humble, despite their exceptional power and potential.
Maybe that was why they had that potential. Simply because they wouldn't use it for such evil ends, and that power would be there to defend the land, if it were ever needed.
And then there was the Goddess. She seemed… ecstatic. He could still feel it on the fringes of his consciousness, for she had never broken her connection she used to speak to him. It was still there. He could feel her on the other side of it, an overwhelming presence just outside his mind, almost over his shoulder, radiating upon him a sensation of pride, of compassion, and of love. He understood the enormity of it. He could use Priest magic as well. He could call upon the Goddess, and if she so desired, she could respond with gifts of her power. That depended on her, of course, but the potential was there. He had the feeling that it wouldn't work quite that easily when it came to her. After all, she was the Goddess of the Weave, and he was a Sorcerer. What need did he have to directly ask for her power, when in a roundabout way, he could already use it? The Weave was the Goddess, and the Goddess was the Weave. Her power was available to all her children, not just him.
So. The katzh-dashi actually were Priests. Just with different traditions and a slightly different type of magic, that was all.
It just seemed so strange. He didn't feel special. Actually, he felt rather rotten. He had killed innocents. It didn't bother him as much as he thought it should, and that bothered him in and of itself. He had been sliding into the depths of madness, and had caught himself. But this wasn't madness. This was something else. He just didn't care. Perhaps he was just tired. Perhaps he had lost that part of his humanity to the Cat. Whichever it was, it was something with which he would have to cope. And that would come later.
At least the others were alright. Sarraya told him as they scampered away that Triana had come, faster than she ever dreamed she could get here, and that the others were all safe. They were free of Shiika, and Triana was with them. His powerful bond-mother would protect them, would help Jula since he was not there, would be there for them until he could find them. He felt a great deal better knowing that Triana, the most powerful of the Were-cats, was there to watch over them.
For right now, he had enough problems. He was carrying something that every mage and two-copper joker with delusions of grandeur wanted, and they wouldn't be squeamish about killing him over it. The Wizards could use magic to find it any time he left his cat form and brought the book out of the elsewhere. That kept him trapped in cat form. It wouldn't be easy to get back to the others in cat form, when it would take him two days to travel through the city. He'd have to find some way to get to them, as soon as he knew where they were. He couldn't contact Allia in cat form; he had to change back, restore the amulet to be able to do that. But doing so would bring the people hunting for the book after him, which meant that it was going to be tricky. He was still utterly exhausted from the fighting, from the victory, so tired that even Sarraya's slight weight felt like a pile of rocks tied on his back. He didn't feel up to more fighting.
"We have to stop," Sarraya wheezed breathlessly, kicking him lightly in the side with a heel. "Can we stop?"
Tarrin stopped gently and hunched down so she could get off. Instead, she sagged onto his back, panting heavily. Sarraya was hurt, broken ribs and shattered wings. The riding was hurting her more, and though she wasn't complaining, he could tell that she was starting to really feel the effects of her injuries. Without his Sorcery, he couldn't help her, and he had the feeling that she didn't feel quite up to using her Druidic power on herself quite yet.
"Are you alright?" he asked gently. They shouted at each other a great deal, but Tarrin loved Sarraya, loved her like any of his dear friends. He was worried about her, and it hurt him to know that she was in pain, and he could do nothing to make it better.
"I'm starting to appreciate how you've felt sometimes," she wheezed. "How do you stand it?"
"I'm a male. Males are supposed to act tough," he told her with gentle humor.
She laughed, and that caused her to suck in her breath. "Don't do that," she jibed at him. "It hurts when I laugh."
"We've been walking a while," he noted, though his concept of time while in cat form was never very profound. The Cat lived entirely in the moment, and concepts such as past and future were alien to it. He had to labor to keep track of time when in that form, and the longer he stayed in it, the harder it became. "Do you think we're far enough away to contact Allia?"
"I think so," she replied. "It's hard for humans to move around in the streets. We could be long gone before they get here."
Tarrin laid completely down for her. "Alright, go ahead and get off. Just be careful."