"There you are," she said with a chuckle. "We never go that way, because we don't trust the exiled Arakites. I doubt her clan has ever seen us."
"Probably not."
"You are unusual. Dolanna called you Were-cat. Is this so?" Tarrin nodded. "We have long debated whether to return to Fae-da'Nar. I doubt that they remember us anymore."
"I wouldn't know," he told her in a quiet voice. "I'm not Fae-da'Nar."
She gave him a startled look. "A Rogue? You are very brave, Tarrin of the Were-cats. Few challenge Fae-da'Nar and live. Their power is formidable."
"I've never seen that power," he told her, leaning against the rail. "They've tried to kill me, but they haven't been able to do it yet."
"You are lucky, then. A single Druid is usually all it takes."
"I can deal with Druids," he told her. "Not that I want to, but they don't really leave me much choice."
She leaned against the rail with him. "It's not my place to speak for you, but if you have any way to reach an agreement with Fae-da'Nar , I suggest you find it," she advised.
"It's gone too far for that, Ariana," he sighed. "I wanted to at one time, but it's too late now. My bond-mother put her own needs over mine when mine were much more important, and it made me Rogue. Then I damned myself in Fae-da'Nar 's eyes when I killed innocents protecting myself from another one of them. I didn't ask for them to be an enemy. I've tried to resolve it without killing any of them. But it's too late for that. The next time Fae-da'Nar crosses my path, one of us is going to die."
"Sad words," Ariana consoled. "Sounds like a twist of fate."
"There's nothing but twists in my fate anymore," he grunted. "I think about it sometimes, standing up on a deck and looking into the stars. I've lost my way, Ariana. I don't really know what I'm supposed to be anymore, or where I'm supposed to be, or what people expect out of me. I feel like a stranger. And I have no idea why I'm talking about this to a complete stranger. I shouldn't really be talking to you."
"Why not?"
"Dolanna calls me feral," he told her.
"Ah, say no more," she said lightly. "I guess I should feel honored that you'd deem me worthy enough to confide in."
"I guess you're just a non-human face," he sighed. "I guess I just don't trust humans anymore. Not after everything they've done to me. And to think that I used to be one." He shivered slightly. "I've never met one of you before, so I guess I haven't decided yet if you're a friend or foe."
"Well, that's a gentle way to put it," she said with a slight smile.
"Now that I've bared my soul to you, when are you planning to leave?"
"Well, I was waiting to talk with you," she replied. "To thank you and to tell you of my debt. I guess that since that's done, I can return home. It will be a long flight, but I'll enjoy every minute of it."
"It must be something else to fly," he said, looking up at the sky.
"There's nothing like it in the world," she said dreamily. "I should get some rest. I'll be flying out with the dawn.
"I think I'd better go back down to my room pretty soon too," he said ruefully. "It's starting to become work standing here."
"I didn't realize you were ill," she said in concern.
"Not ill, just weak," he replied. "Doing what I did really drains me."
"Do you want help?"
"No, I'll be alright. Besides, it looks like you wouldn't fit in the companionway with those wings."
"Alright. If I'm not here when you wake up, I just want to say thank you, and may your gods speed you on your journey."
"Thanks. Have a good flight home, Ariana."
She took his paw, smiling at him warmly. "If you ever need me, just call, and I'll come," she told him seriously. "It's the least I can do for someone who saved my life."
"I don't see when I'll need you that bad, but I'll remember it, Ariana,"he told her. "I hope we meet again."
"We will," she said with a smile. "Trust me. We will."
Tarrin gave her a curious look, watching her move towards the large lean-to style shelter that was made for her on the deck. For some reason, he had to agree with her.
Absently swatting some insect that landed on his back with his tail, he turned and looked out over the calm seas, both paws on the rail. The memories of what had happened had started unveiling themselves, and they worried him. He understood why Dolanna wanted to talk to him so badly. He remembered weaving together strands. He knew how he did it, and he could do it again. The amount of energy it required had been staggering, but it was something that he could accomplish.
He had no idea how he knew how to do it. In his rage, he was completely subjugated by his animal instincts. Perhaps they had some sort of mystical connection to the Weave that he didn't understand. Perhaps they could sense things that he couldn't when in control of himself. Maybe it had just been blind luck. Whatever it had been, it had worked, and worked too well. He had wanted more power, faster, and that was exactly what he had gotten. The fact that he used that power to destroy meant nothing to him; they had nearly killed Miranda and Sisska, so there was no mercy. Not that he was ever overly merciful in the first place. Regardless of why he had wanted it, the fact that he had managed to call it forth wouldn't leave his mind.
The power had been incredible. Now that he could remember what had happened, he could remember things that his animal instincts hadn't noticed in their rage. About how beautiful it felt, to hold onto that much power. Even when it was burning him, there was a nearly euphoric sensation involved in wielding that much power, a feeling that was odd, and a little frightening. He was starting to fear that he was beginning to like using High Sorcery, and that would be a deadly attraction. He had been lucky so far, either using Sorcery so quickly that he didn't have the chance to build enough power to cross the threshold, or managing to break away from the power when he did. This time would have been it, if Keritanima hadn't been there to cut him off.
It was sobering. It was more power than any single Sorcerer could manage. It was power that even a Circle had to work to contain. Yet he could use it, alone. That scared him, deeply. He didn't understand what set him apart from all the others, and he was starting to worry that having that kind of power was going to become comfortable to him. It would change him, if he allowed it to. He would become used to it, and used to the pedestal on which it placed him over others. That could lead to arrogance, conceit, maybe even belief that he was better than anyone else. So much power was an allure, almost like a drug, and he realized now that he had to be careful, or he would be seduced by its dark promises.
It's very good for you to understand that now, my kitten, the voice of the Goddess echoed within his mind. Power is a sword with two edges. It must be respected.
"Goddess," he said in surprise, looking around. "I thought you were gone."
I may not speak to you, but I'm always watching you, kitten, she said whimsically. It's good to see you up. Are you feeling alright?
"I'm still a little weak," he replied, looking down into the sea, at the wavering reflection of the greatest moon, Domammon. Soon the twin moons, Duva and Kava, would rise, and just behind them, the red moon Vala would rise. Behind the large white disc shimmered the colored pools of light on the water which reflected the Skybands. They were much narrower now than he remembered them in Aldreth. Keritanima told him that when someone was on the equator, they were nothing but a knife-edge in the sky, and only visible at night. In the frozen expanses of the north, they took up the entire southern section of the sky, brilliant and scillinting in the night, and dulling the light of the sun a little during the day as it shined through them. They seemed to be in front of the sun and moons, yet behind the clouds. "But you already knew that."