"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know who you were."
"I didn't know who you were either," she said. "Down here in the baths, it's not easy to tell. It's not like I have the shaeram tattooed on my bosom."
"I think that would be a bit ostentatious," he said sagely.
"Not to mention painful," she agreed. "Do you have a bit of twine or thong?" she asked. "I need to tie this in, or it'll unravel itself."
"I think I have the old one somewhere," he said. "No, wait, I undid it in the pool. I forgot about it."
"Not a problem," she said. "I'll cinch it so it'll hold itself for a while, but you need to-" She stopped as Tarrin, who had his old, frayed robe in hand, ripped a bit of cloth off the hem, then handed it to her. "I hope you're not quite that hard on your clothes," she said with a bit of a laugh, taking it from him and tying it to the end of his braid. "Want me to make a pretty little bow in it?"
"No thank you," he said dryly.
"We don't have too many non-humans in the Tower," she told him as she knotted the torn fabric and then came back around him. "I think there are a couple of Wikuni that act as emissaries of a sort, but that's about all. If I may ask, what race are you?"
"I'm not Wikuni," he told her. "I'm a Were-cat."
"Really?" she asked, her eyes brightening. "We'll definitely have to talk. I have an interest in the non-human races, and most Were-kin are very tight-lipped. Well, it will have to wait, I guess," she sighed. "I need to get dressed and get to the class I'm teaching before they think I'm not showing up." She went over to the next chair and dropped her towel without so much as batting an eyelash. Tarrin noted that she had an exquisitely shaped body. She was very lovely. Her figure almost compared to Jesmind's.
Tarrin pulled the new robe on and belted it at his waist, then gathered up the old one. He realized that they didn't tell him what to do with it. He decided to take it back to his room and drop it off. He'd ask about it later.
"What do I do with the towel?" he asked Jula as she pulled her shift over her head and settled it into place.
"Just leave it," she told him. "A Novice will pick it up in a while."
"Thank you, Mistress Jula, for the braid," he said.
"Any time, Tarrin," she told him, shrugging herself into a robe. Obviously, she would wear that back to her chambers, where she would dress. And the sight and thought of that told him that this robe he was wearing was his. He was supposed to hang it on that peg on the wall.
He couldn't follow his scent-trail all the way back, since they'd come from the Quartermaster's so he went up to the first level and wandered until he saw something that looked famliar. From there, he quickly found the central hall, and followed it down to the door to his room. He noticed that there were no locks on the doors. Opening it, he saw the room much as it was before, except for a neatly folded pair of trousers and a shirt resting on the bed. He also saw, to his own surprise, a single leather pack sitting in front of it, and his staff was sitting in the corner. Dolanna had had his things all this time? He was impressed, and a little relieved when he realized that the Box had been in that pack. Going to it quickly, he noticed a note resting on top of the pack, and another note sitting atop the clothes. The note on the clothes was from the Quartermaster.
Master Tarrin:
I finished this set, and decided to bring it so you had more to wear than a robe. You can pick up your other four sets of clothes in the morning. They will be ready for you.
The second note was from Dolanna.
Tarrin:
We managed to recover this pack from the wreck of the ship. Thank Faalken for this, it was his quick thinking that saved our belongings. I dried them out as best I could with magic, and I do believe that nothing was damaged. It took some doing to recover your staff, but I knew how much it meant to you, so I decided that it was worth the effort. By the way, what is in this pack will be held in the strictest confidence. It was obvious to me that what is within are things that you hold dear for sentimental reasons. It will remain a private matter.
This evening at sunset, I think you should visit the library. It is easy to find. I am certain that you will find it to be an interesting place.
Tarrin folded the note carefully, and then opened his pack. It was obvious from the letter that Dolanna wanted to talk to him, and without the Keeper or a stranger around. It would be no problem. Since he wasn't really a Novice yet, even if his excursion broke a rule, it wasn't a rule that applied to him. Then he unpacked his pack to check things.
The Box was alright. The four items inside, the tooth, the piece of quartz, the gold nugget, and his treasured wing, were just fine. They showed not a sign of being dunked in the water. Neither did the box. His small daggers were in the pack, and so was his larger one, which surprised him. He thought he'd lost the item he'd won at staffs in the fair. His shaving razor was there, but not the soap. But then again, he didn't need the razor. With a start, he realized that he'd not shaved once since being bitten. And his face was hairless. That he didn't mind, for he didn't like beards and he hated shaving even more. His sleeping mat, tent, and cooking pot were absent, probably lost, but this pack, with his clothes and his personal items, it was what was important.
He placed the pack in the chest at the foot of his bed. The clothes in the pack were his sturdy leather clothes, and he wanted to keep them. A bit of cutting with a knife or claw would free up a place for his tail in his pants, and that was all that really mattered. He took off the robe and dressed in the Novice's clothes that had been left for him, and hung his robe on the wall on the peg. Then he went to his staff.
The sturdy Ironwood showed not a sign of any duress, but that was usual for it. It took something like a blazing inferno to mark Ironwood. It seemed almost feather-light to him now, but he could feel every indentation on the wood intimately, and it felt just the same as he remembered. He was just stronger, and that made the very heavy wood feel lighter. His hands were now paws, and were much larger. He knew he'd have to practice with the staff to get used to the different grips he'd need to use it, now that his hands were so different. And learn how to use his natural weaponry in harmony with it.
The door opened. Tarrin stood by the bed calmly, staff in paw, and regarded the young man that entered. He was a bit tall for his age, which looked to be around fifteen, and he had the dark, swarthy skin that marked him as an Arksian. His hair was black as pitch, long and done up in an attractive side-parted style, and his eyes were a rich almond brown, almost like amber. He too wore the white shirt and brown pants of a Novice, and he had a book in his hand. "They told me that you may be here," he said calmly. "I'm Dar, Dar Ulthan," he introduced. "I'm your roommate."
"I'm Tarrin," he replied calmly.
"They asked me to show you around," he said. "We can do that after lunch, if you want."
"Lunch sounds very good at the moment," Tarrin said with a smile.
"Well, if we're going to eat, we'd best get moving," he said. "They don't let stragglers eat."
Tarrin put the staff back in the corner and followed the tall, lanky young man out.
"Where are you from?" he asked.
"Aldreth."
"Where?"
"A village about as far from Suld as you can get without leaving Sulasia," he replied.
"I'm from Arkhold, in Arkis," he returned.
"What brought you all the way here?"
"My parents are in the spice trade," he explained. "Merchants who are educated in the Tower tend to do better, and my parents want me to keep up what they've built."