Tarrin gave her a strong look. "I guess I don't think about it," he said. "For some weird reason, I miss her."
"She meant alot to you, my brother," she told him. "I think that if your circumstances had been better, you would be married to her."
Tarrin sighed. "Maybe," he admitted. "She's too stubborn to make a good wife."
"She's just like you. That makes it a good match."
"Well thanks," he said with a snort. "How's class coming?"
"Much better now," she replied. "Yesterday I finally managed to understand the intricacies of weaving in multiple flows. I still need practice, though."
"Kerri can help with that."
"She's too busy with the scrolls."
"She needs to learn how to make time," Tarrin grunted.
"Like you made for me? This really was sweet, deshida."
"You're my sister, and you needed some extra attention," he smiled. "Besides, I longed to put my paws all over those places I'm not allowed to touch in company."
Allia laughed. "Don't start with me, brother," she warned with twinkling eyes.
"Maybe I just miss that about Jesmind."
Allia laughed again. "You're worrying me now," she teased.
"Just consider yourself lucky that I'm Were," he grinned, leaning up on his elbows. "If I were human, I'd be too busy staring at your bosom to give you the time of day."
"I get enough of that from the others, brother," she said. "I don't need it from you. What is it about human males that makes it impossible for them to look a woman in the eye?"
"Because there are better things to look at, I suppose," Tarrin shrugged. "Your eyes may be pretty, but to a human, they're not your most appealing attribute."
"Oh? And what would that attribute be?"
Tarrin grinned at her. "It depends on the tastes of the looker," he teased. "I've always been partial to tails. But you don't seem to have one, so I guess I'm left out." Tarrin snaked his tail up off the floor, letting it weave back and forth over his head to catch her attention. "And you can't tell me that Selani don't look."
"Of course we look," she challenged. "We just don't keep looking."
"That's no fun."
"Selani courtship is a serious affair," she told him. "Let's stop talking about this, before I start getting bad ideas and no way to carry them out. I'd feel dirty if I took a human for lover."
"No you wouldn't," he teased.
"Maybe not, if it were someone I respected," she admitted. "But I find humans to be…plain. They don't incite my interest."
"No wonder," he said. "What did you think of the teaching?" he asked, referring to the night of learning the basics of Sha'Kar.
"I noticed that it strikes a great resemblance to the Language," she replied. "Its structure is almost identical."
"I noticed. Maybe your people and theirs are distantly related. Some in the Tower think it may be true."
"It is possible," she said. "Our histories begin only about three thousand years ago, and our beginnings say we were a lost people, wandering the wilderness, until the Holy Mother's voice called out and led them into the desert, and into the true lands of peace and prosperity. Perhaps we are distantly related to them. It is possible." She put her chin on her arm. "But I don't think so. They vanished some two thousand years ago, and my people were firmly established before that happened. Had we been cousins, I'm sure there would have been contact and communication."
"Maybe. Perhaps we'll find out someday."
"Perhaps," she agreed. "Tarrin."
"Yes?"
"Have I mentioned lately how much I love you?"
Tarrin smiled. "I don't think you have to, sister," he said, reaching out and taking her slender, four-fingered hand into his huge paw, swallowing it up.
"Some things don't need to be said."
Keritanima was in a foul mood. She woke up after a long two days without enough sleep, and her shoulders throbbed furiously. Even the whisper of her red silk dress over those tender burns, that had blackened her skin and charred away her fur, made it feel like someone was dragging a wood saw over her skin. But in one way, she accepted that pain for what it meant, and what it did for her. They were the Selani brands, and they marked her as the sister in all but blood to a Selani warrior.
They told everyone who looked at them that she belonged.
She would gladly suffer that pain for the rest of her life if it meant that she was part of something that wasn't self-destructive. For her entire life, she had always stood outside, looking in through the window to long for what others had. She had wanted a family, but got the Erams. She wanted friends and joy, and got death and sorrow. She wanted happiness and peace, and got conniving, treachery, and murder. For the first time in her life since meeting Miranda, Keritanima felt good about something, felt there was a chance, that there was hope. It had lifted a tremendous weight off of her, a weight that had bogged down her soul for years. She had to keep them hidden, because there was absolutely no way for her to explain or justify them in the character of the Brat Princess, and in a way, that ate at her. She was proud of those brands, as proud of them as the Knights were of theirs, and she wanted the entire world to see them. But she had to keep them hidden, to keep up her appearances.
Keritanima's sense of peace only went so far to counter the effects of sleep deprivation and pain. She was in a truly black humor, so black that she stormed out of her rooms without saying a word, and giving no thought, no care, and no consideration to how others perceived it. The other Initiates were accustomed to Keritanima, so the word went out quickly that she had a look on her face that was worse than usual, and the hallways quickly depopulated before her.
Miranda watched her go, leaning up against the doorframe with Binter and Sisska behind her, a slight smile on her face. "My, that was abrupt," she mused. "It looks like you're in for an interesting day, Binter."
"So it seems, Miranda," he agreed in his deep voice. "I should bring a broom. She is likely to become violent by lunchtime."
Miranda chuckled. "May be," she agreed. "Binter, a boon of you."
"Yes?"
She reached into her bodice and withdrew a small note. "Take this to Jervis' office," she asked. "It shouldn't be too far out of your way, and I know you have little to do while her Highness in in class."
"I will deliver it after her Highness is in class," he promised.
"Enjoy," she told him with a straight face.
"Courage, my mate," Sisska said in a totally serious voice. Vendari humor tended to be subtle.
"I would rather battle an oni with my arms chopped off," he said soberly, then he went past Miranda and stalked out into the hallways behind the High Princess, to be nearby should she need assistance.
"I think this will be an eventful day," Sisska mused as they watched him go.
"Yes, I do believe that you're right," Miranda agreed. She looked back over her shoulder, and the five scrolls resting on the table. "A very eventful day indeed."
That day created a routine of sorts that became Tarrin's daily activity for the next month. The morning would be spent with the Council, as they and the Lorefinders continued to experiment and study, observing Tarrin's powers and trying to find a way to bring them back under control. The going was slow, because every attempt to create a weave strong enough to perform the task came up short, and the Lorefinders had to teach those weaves to the Council before each use, since only the most powerful of the katzh-dashi had a chance of containing Tarrin's raw power. It was exhausting for Tarrin, a mixture of effort, fear, and anxiety amplified by continued close contact with people that he didn't like. Of the Council, the only one he truly could say he liked was Koran Dar. The others all struck at him on a subconscious level that made him distrust them.