Strong hands picked him up, and Janine cradled Tarrin to her breast, her free hand checking him for injuries. Despite his exhaustion, he meowed plaintively to her, and put his head against her shoulder. "There's a knife on the floor," Janine said.
"I think Shadow attacked the man," Tomas the merchant chuckled. "He must have been up on a counter, and leaped at him when he came in. That's a good cat," he said with a laugh, petting him gently.
"He knows who feeds him," Janine said with a laugh.
Tomas looked out the door, then closed it, reset the latch, and then locked it. Then he picked up the knife. "It's still warm," he noticed. "I think I'll have a talk with Deris about leaving the kitchen door unlocked when he's not in the room," Tomas the merchant said.
"Be easy on him, Tomas," Janine the wife said. "I'm certain that it was an accident. He's usually very careful."
They took him back to the living room, where Tarrin spent most of his night on Janine's lap. He was very frightened, frightened of what had just happened, so he clung to the woman like a child clinging to its mother. Janine, a bit startled that Tarrin would show her so much affection, stroked and soothed him the way only a mother could, easing him from the death-grip his claws had on her and coaxing him into simply laying on her lap.
He had used Sorcery. And just like his sister, it had been raw, uncontrolled, an attack made in desperation. That changed everything. It was the reason he had fled from Jesmind in the first place, and he realized that, until he learned how to control it, that he would not be safe, nor would others be safe around him. He could have easily set fire to the house, or killed himself with his ignorance. He knew then that he had to leave, and very soon. He had to go back to the Tower, go back to the only place that could help him control his power, and he had to go before it happened again. Next time, he may not be so lucky, and he knew it. He had to accept his responsiblities, stop hiding from them.
It was time to grow up.
Tarrin had been solitary all the next day. It hurt Janette a little bit, but Tomas the merchant and Janine the wife figured that he was still a bit shook up over his encounter in the kitchen. What he was doing was making a decision, one that didn't come lightly to him, and he needed time by himself in order to reach it.
That night, after everyone was asleep, Tarrin padded up into Janette's room. He looked at the darling little girl, all snug in her covers and with a cute little expression on her face. How he was going to miss her.
After a few moments of concentration, Tarrin changed form.
The realignment of his thinking was quite profound. After so much time in his cat form, with the cat in control, it was unusual to have to think through the cat's distraction in order to form thoughts. The cat accepted the reversal of roles graciously, returning to its place in the corner of his mind. And when it returned, Tarrin bade it farewell as a brother, not in relief that it was gone. The time in his cat form had allowed him to come to a deeper understanding of his cat instincts, and though he still feared what he may do someday when he was in a rage, at least he could face that future with at least some hope that he could prevent anything as horrible as what he nearly did to his mother from happening.
He knelt by her bed, putting a paw on her shoulder. "Janette," he called softly. "Janette, wake up. I need to talk to you."
The little girl opened her dark eyes. Though he was a stranger, Janette did not scream or look up at him in fear. The light of the moons and the Skybands filled her room with enough light for her to see his face, and though he was unknown to her, his gentle way of waking her seemed to allay any fear and replace it with curiosity. "Who are you?" she asked.
"I'm your cat," he said with a smile.
"You are not," she said indignantly.
"Yes, little mother, I am," he told her, cupping her cheek in his huge paw. "Well, I'm not really a cat. Not just a cat. Here, let me show you." He stood up and stepped back from her.
"You're not wearing any clothes," she remarked.
"I know," he shrugged. "I don't have any. Now watch." He changed form for her, and saw her eyes widen and heard her gasp. Then he changed back, and returned to his spot beside her bed. "See?"
"You're not a girl," she accused. Tarrin marvelled at her innocent way, at how she could so easily accept what would have been earth-shattering to an adult. Children were very adapatable.
Tarrin laughed. "No, I'm not a girl," he agreed.
"If you're not a cat, why were you a cat? Why stay here? Don't you have a home?"
"Well, it gets complicated, little mother," he smiled, stroking her hair. "You see, I was lost. I was lost, and very frightened, and very sad, and I didn't know what to do. I was so afraid that I didn't want to go on living. And then a little girl fished me out of a bush," he said, tapping the end of her nose with his fingertip. "You saved me, Janette. If you wouldn't have found, me, I would have died. Here, with you, I found my way again, little mother." He cupped her cheek again, his paw almost swallowing her face up. "I can't ever thank you enough, Janette. You showed me how to live again."
Her eyes welled up with tears. "You're going to go away, aren't you?"
"Oh, pumpkin, I don't want to leave you," he said, collecting her up into his arms. "I love you very much, Janette. You're my very own little mother. But sometimes, we all have to do things that we don't want to do. Like when you take your lessons with the flute. I know you don't like it, but you have to do it." He looked into her eyes, wiping away a tear. "I have things I have to do out there in the world, little mother," he told her. "Just like your father, when he goes out every day to mind his affairs. As much as I love you, and I love this house, this isn't my place. I can't do what I need to do here. Can you understand that?"
"I guess so," she sniffled, "but I don't want you to go away."
"And I don't want to leave you," he said, smoothing her hair. "You're very important to me, little mother."
"Why do you call me that?"
"Because that's how I think of you," he smiled. "You are my very own little mother, there to make all the bad things go away. You made me feel like I had a reason to keep living, pumpkin, and because of you, I think I'm ready to go back to what I'm supposed to do. And every time I feel lost or scared, all I'll have to do is think of you, and it won't seem so bad." He sniffled. "I don't think you'll understand how much you mean to me, Janette. I was so close to giving up. So close that you'll never understand. And you brought me back. I want to thank you for that, Janette."
He held her very close for quite a while. "I'm sorry, pumpkin, but I have to go," he told her. "And for that, I'm going to need your help."
"What do you want me to do?"
"You have to open the door for me, little mother." He let go of her and changed form, then jumped up into her lap. He nuzzled her as she picked him up, and he savored the scent of her, the feel of her, as she carried him downstairs. She opened the door and set him down, tears rolling down her cheeks. He changed form again and knelt by her, holding her close one last time. "I'm going to miss you, little mother," he told her. "I wish there was something I could give you to remember me."
"I don't need something to remember you," she sniffled. "I don't want you to go, but if you have to, you have to."
"I won't be gone forever, pumpkin," he told her. "Someday, I'll come back. I won't be your cat, but I'll come back and see you."
"Promise?"
"Promise," he said, tapping her on the nose.
She was clutching something in her hand, then thrust it at him. "I won't need this with you gone. Maybe you'd like it. Just in case."
He took the object. It was the little wooden doll, tied to a string, the toy that they'd used to play with for hours on end, day after day. His eyes filled with tears as he clutched the tiny doll. "Oh, little mother, you still know just what to do to make me happy," he told her, hugging her. "This little toy means quite a bit to me." He fashioned the string into a loop, and then put the doll around his neck like a necklace. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Until then, think well of me."