So that was where he decided he had to go.
Looking up, he got his bearings using the Skybands. Since they crossed the sky from east to west, and he could see from the morning sun which of those two directions was which, he knew which way to go. Go west to the coast, and then south to Suld.
Turning away from the morning sun, Tarrin left the howling Trolls behind, dropped to the ground, and ran south, with every intention of doubling back on a good bit of his trail and then going into the trees to give the Trolls fits when they got across the river. They knew that he could go in any direction…and he'd have too much of a lead on them for them to seriously give chase to him.
He did just that, doubling back on almost two miles of trail, then going into the trees and moving west. He did that all morning and well into the afternoon, past the point where his muscles burned and his breath came in hard, short pants. Every moment he kept moving was more time he could safely rest. That one thought, that goal, dominated his mind, kept him moving. Get out of danger, and then rest. Resting too soon will leave them too close. His whole thought process centered around the next branch. Find the next branch, jump to the next branch, walk across the next branch, climb up the next branch. He was afraid to stop, even a moment, fearing that that moment would become longer, and they'd be surrounding the tree he was sleeping in when he woke up, shaking him out of it.
It was a hazy, totally exhausted Tarrin who looked up a moment and realized that it was sunset. He moved the entire day, on a course that was as due west as he could manage in the trees. He was famished, thirsty, and totally drained, but hunger and thirst couldn't hold a candle to the bone-weariness that threatened to topple him out of the tree. Tarrin dropped to his knees on the wide branch, a branch even wider than he was, connected to a tree that had to be a thousand years old, laid out on its length right where he was, and fell into an instant deep slumber.
There had been no dreams. None that he could remember, anyway, and if there were, they were incapable of rousing him from his comatose sleep. Tarrin's eyes fluttered open, aware of the rosy light that was painting the green foliage in front of him, hearing and smelling the life of the forest that he had all but ignored in his mad flight the day before. It was quiet, peaceful, and there was no sound of Troll feet and no stench of Troll bodies.
He'd not moved an inch from where he had fallen to the branch, and he was sore in more places than he could count. His belly growled dangerously at him, and his throat felt like someone had stuffed wool against it. But he was alive, and he'd evaded the Trolls, and that made it tolerable. Even being lost and alone in the wilderness was more than preferable to his head hanging around some Troll's neck, as it jokingly exagerrated the difficulty of the spear cast that had killed him. Getting up onto his paws and knees, he yawned loudly and stretched, feeling his back crackle and pop from the long hours in an uncomfortable position, his claws digging furrows out of the bark.
His head snapped up. There was another smell, almost right on top of him, but it had been there so long he'd dismissed it, even in sleep. It was a smell very much like his own.
"Good morning," came an amused voice.
Tarrin looked behind him, and she was standing there. She was wearing clothes now, a white shirt and a pair of canvas breeches, but she was just as beautiful and terrifying as he remembered. The nightmarish memories of that chaotic battle washed over him, and his arm throbbed and burned in memory of her bite, the bite that had changed him. Her shirt was stained in many places, and the breeches were tattered about the ankles, but her skin and fiery red hair and white fur were clean, and her crystalline green eyes looked down at him with a guarded expression. He could tell that she was tense, as if expecting him to attack.
The thought did occur to him, but he was in no position nor condition to start a fight. He was still very weak from the long flight and lack of food or water, and he knew it. An indignant "you!" escaped his lips, carrying with it all the hatred and enmity he felt for her, a hatred that had flared up inside him like a bonfire. She had done this to him, had changed him. That it was not her conscious choice did not matter.
"I see you remember me," she said, a bit ruefully.
"What did you expect?" he demanded hotly, managing to get to his feet. He couldn't hide how much of an effort it was just to stand. "You have alot of nerve, woman. If I wasn't so tired, I'd kill you."
"You would try," she said flatly. "You don't bring enough to the table to kill me, cub, especially not right now. Be thankful I like you. I've killed others for less than what you just said to me." She crossed her arms beneath her ample breasts and leaned back against the tree trunk. "I'm not here to fight, anyway," she told him. "I'm here to meet you."
"We've met," he growled at her.
"Mind your manners," she snapped at him. "I'm not going to be able to do anything with you if you can't be civil." She pointed at him. "You are Tarrin," she said. "My name is Jesmind. "
"How did you find me?"
"Oh, come now, cub," she said in a flat voice. "Give me some credit. I've been watching you since the day you left Torrian."
"I didn't see you, or smell you."
"That's because I didn't want to be found," she told him simply. "You did very well getting away from the Trolls. I was about to put a paw in, but you got away on your own. I'm impressed."
"What do you want?" he asked bluntly.
"I want to teach you," she said. "Well, there's no 'want' involved in that. It's a matter of 'must'. For the time being, consider me to be your mother."
"Mother?" he said in a strangled voice.
"There are things that you have to know," she told him with a challenging, cool look. "It's my responsibility to teach them to you. Until you're old enough, or experienced enough, to be out on your own, you are my responsiblity. What you do will come back to me, because I'm the one that is responsible for you being what you are." She gave him a moment to let that sink in. "There's no choice in the matter, Tarrin. You must know these things. But as soon as I'm confident that you understand them, and I'm sure you won't go mad, then you'll be free to do as you will. You'll never have to see me again. Unless you want to, that is."
Tarrin steadied himself, considering her words. He hated her, but there were things that he wanted to know. "I don't mind, not all that much," he said in a quiet voice, "but I'm travelling west. If you're going that way too, then we can travel together."
"Is that so?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "My home lies to the east, cub. That's where we need to go."
"I can't," he said. "I have to go to the Tower. The reason I left home was because I can do Sorcery. They were taking me to the Tower. If I don't go there, I'll do magic and hurt someone without knowing what I'm doing. Besides, someone out there doesn't want me to get to the Tower," he told her wearily. "Those Trolls were after me, and it's not the first attack. You should know that," he said. "The only place I'll be safe is in the Tower."
"I'll worry about keeping you safe," she told him. "Once we get out of human lands, nobody will ever find you."
"Didn't you listen at all?" he demanded. "I don't have a choice. I have to go to the Tower. That's more set in stone than anything that has anything to do with you. Now if you're willing to travel in that direction, then we can travel together, and I'll learn what you have to teach me. If you're not, then we'll just part ways here and now and hopefully never see each other again."