This was done by the Goddess.
The Goddess had done this weaving, and she had absolutely made sure that the amulet's powers could not be used by anyone else but him. If someone got the amulet off his neck, then it would be nothing but a very old piece of black steel. If it survived the unravelling of weaves that had infused it for most of recorded history, at any rate. The shock of it would probably destroy the amulet.
Interesting. Very, very interesting. Without too much thought, he reached within, through the Cat, and came into contact with the All. He then formed image and intent that Summoned his staff from where it was laying by the fire, and held it in his right paw. Then, focusing on the amulet, he willed it to go into the elsewhere.
And it disappeared.
The sense of it was in his mind, hovering just outside reality, within the grip of his now empty paw.
He willed it to return, and it did so, as his paw closed around it as it appeared within his grip.
Tarrin smiled grimly. This, this had some interesting possibilities. This was instantaneous, not like Summoning, where he had work himself up to it. The ability to instantly summon up a weapon had any number of clever uses in battle.
Leaning on his staff, he looked down into the vast chasm before him. Back when he was human, staring at such a massive gulf may have unsettled him, but not now. The Cat had no fear of heights, for it was confident in its own abilities. His toes gripped the very edge, his claws extending out into empty air that was supported by the ground over a longspan below him. The wind picked up a little, a local effect caused by the rift, as the air was caught up inside and channeled to travel along its length. It was a cold, dry wind, the cold of the desert night, but his feet were warmed by the last of the day's heat trapped in the rock under them. The wind carried up the smells from the chasm floor below, scents of green things and reptiles, dust and rock, and of water. They were very faint, but they were enough to remind him of the way the forest smelled, the place he had always and would always consider home.
He wasn't really suited for all this. That thought had never really crossed his mind before, mainly because he hadn't felt like he'd had much choice. When Tarrin had no choice, he tended not to dwell on what he wanted or what could have been, trying to make the best of the situation. But it was still there, the thought that he really wasn't suited for all this. He was nothing but a village farmboy who had dreams of making a name for himself. Well, that had happened, but it wasn't exactly the way he hoped it would come about. He wanted to be a Knight. He'd realized that dream, but it was under he most bizarre of circumstances. They should have chosen someone else, like a great, courageous Knight, or some vastly educated Wizard. Or maybe even that Sha'Kar woman. Anyone but a teenaged villager from a place so remote that most people in the very kingdom in which it was located had no idea it was there.
Strange that the gods would hinge the safety of this world on a raw-boned, rather naive young man, who turned out to be a murderous uncaring monster. Maybe there was such a thing as a universal sense of humor. Perhaps the universe thrived on irony.
The voices of Var and Denai reached him, and he turned to look. They were telling stories, boasting to one another with wildly elaborated tales of daring and courage. Yet another in a long string of competitions. The two of them seemed to fit together, somehow, in his mind. Almost as if they belonged with one another. Maybe this competition was their way of feeling one another out, to see if they were a good match. He knew that they were. Var had the patience and temperment to reign in Denai's youthful exuberance, and Denai would bring a fire into Var's life that seemed to be necessary.
That was a strange thought. Why should he care about that? They were both strangers… and yet, being with Denai these days, he felt a little differently to her now. She seemed like a child to him, and he was starting to warm to her under that concept. Tarrin may hate strangers, but he never had nor never would extend his feral nature to children. Var… well, Var was still a little disconcerting, but Tarrin was getting used to him. He'd gotten used to Camara Tal, Sarraya, and Phandebrass as well. Maybe that was a good sign. Var and Denai kept him on edge when they were near him, but the sense of that fear had started to dull over the last couple of days.
That wasn't the only thing. Ever since the fight with the Sha'Kar, the eyeless face that had haunted him for so long had been slowly losing its potency. It was still there, but now it did nothing more than remind him of what could happen if he lost control. There was no more hatred or loathing or fear tied up in its gaze, almost as if it had lost its venom. Jula's rage had reinforced that, reminded him how narrow a path he walked to keep his calm, keep his very sanity.
"Quite a view," Denai said, coming up behind him. Her voice startled him a bit… he thought she was trading stories with Var. Had he been pondering that long? But, to his credit, she didn't invoke a powerful response out of him. Usually he would have turned on the object that startled him and challenged it. But the realization that it was Denai smoothed over any hostile impulses immediately.
"Something you don't see every day," he said mildly. "What do you want?"
"Do I have to want something?" she asked.
He looked right at her. "Yes," he said bluntly.
She gave him a look, then she laughed, giving him that disarming, charming smile. "Actually, Sarraya asked me to come get you. We made dinner, we thought you may be hungry."
He looked down at her. She was so small. She only came up to his chest. She was cute, and had that charming smile, and she had a fearless temperment and adventurous spirit that would exasperate any male she married. But there was something about her, that ethereal quality he noticed when they first met… Denai was affable, likable. It was very hard not to be swept over by her charisma. She was so much like Dar in that respect; Dar had this strange quality that made everyone like him, almost immediately after they met. It was something that he had noticed, and was probably why they had paired Dar with him for his Novitiate. They probably figured that if anyone stood a chance of not getting killed by him, it was Dar. Denai had that same sense about her. It was different in her, because she was Selani instead of human, but it was still there.
"No, not really," he answered her, seeing that she was growing uncomfortable under his penetrating stare. "Go back to the camp."
"Why should I?" she asked petulantly. "I rather like it here."
"Did you think that I might want to be alone?"
She grinned at him. "I've been watching you," she told him. "If you wanted to be alone, you would have growled at me before I got close enough to say anything."
He would have, he admitted inwardly, if he knew she was there. But he wasn't about to admit that she snuck up on him. "Probably," he acceded. "But I don't feel like talking."
"Who needs to talk?" she asked. "You look like you could use some company. That doesn't take talking."
Tarrin put a flat stare on and levelled it at her. "Go back to the camp," he ordered.
"No."
That totally scattered him. She disobeyed him! It shocked him so deeply that it put him off balance. How could she possibly not obey? But then he realized that he was thinking like a Were-cat, and she wasn't a Were-cat. Any Were-cat would have obeyed, because Tarrin was the dominant. But to her, that didn't matter all that much. Denai did as Denai wanted, and if that pushed the envelope of safety, that made it even more fun. It was a part of her irresistable charm.
"You'll go back. Whether its whole or in pieces is your decision," he said threateningly, extending his claws on both paws.
"Oh, put those away," she said with that charming smile. "You're not going to hurt me. I can tell just by looking at you. It took me a while to see that, but now that I do, I'm not afraid of you anymore."