Tarrin felt the same way. It was killing him to slow to a walk when his daughter was in the clutches of someone that wanted to hurt her, but he had no choice. She would have to stay where she was until Gods' Day, there was absolutely no way he could change that. No amount of running or racing was going to let him get there a single hour earlier than he needed to be, else his arrival would spell the end for them all. He didn't know how she was, whether or not they were caring for her, if they were hurting her. They had to keep her alive, but that was all. Torturing a child was not something he would put past his enemies. She was defenseless without her magic, and wouldn't be able to fight back-
He stopped thinking about it. Thinking about it was working him up, and he had unconsciously picked up his pace. He had to believe, have faith that the Goddess would protect their daughter from harm while she was in the clutches of Val.
As if thinking about Val brought his attention down on them, Tarrin felt that same oppressive weight appear in the air around him. He immediately stopped and put a knee down on the snow, trying to behave like an immobile magical anomoly in the Weave, to make it harder for the imprisoned god to find him. It hovered around him, probing lightly with light fingers of investigation, then came the familiar press, as Val tested the veracity of this unusual fluctuation in the Weave. Tarrin endured that for a long moment, feeling like someone putting wet wool on top of him, and then it withdrew, but not move on.
What came next caused Tarrin to suck in his breath. It was like a lance of Val's power, driving into him, seeking to penetrate the non-detection of the amulet. The power was staggering, a tremendous might that was necessary to penetrate a magical spell woven by another god. Whether it succeeded or not, Tarrin knew in that moment that Val had found them!
I have found thee, Were-cat, and now thy life is forfeit! came a triumphant cry floating in the very air itself, a cry charged with glee and hideously twisted longing.
The taunting quality of the voice offended him, and the fear and worry he had over his daughter added fuel to that fire. Rising up on his feet, his eyes burning with outrage and barely contained fury, Tarrin reached out and took hold of the Weave. Paws erupting into Magelight as the Were-cat quickly started pulling power in from the Weave, he shaped that raw power into a powerful barrier, something that was not quite a Ward, but not quite a spell, existing only in the magical of magical energy, the other-world in which the Weave existed. It was more of an active control of the raw force of Sorcery, working with it in its pure state. Val's power struck that barrier, a terrible blow meant to kill, but when it made contact with it, it was turned aside. Tarrin sensed the shock on the other side of that attack, felt it gather up and strike again with more power than a mortal could even comprehend, the full power and might of a god, but again it was turned aside.
Impossible! came a gasping denial.
You forget the nature of this mortal, came a surprising taunt from the Goddess, slapping Val in the face for his failure. It is not his power that defeats you, bound one, it is mine. Face it, my worthy adversary. You won't win this easily. My power protects him, and so long as his faith in me is strong, you cannot harm him in such a manner. If you try to strike him down, I will prevent it.
Seek you to unmake all in a direct confrontation, cursed witch? came his hissing retort.
If that's what you want, then bring it on, she said pugnaciously. I'm feeling rather energetic today. What about you?
There was a long silence.
I'm not as cautious as the others, Val, the Goddess taunted. My power isn't vital to the world. The world can survive without me. That's why it's my task to oppose you. So any time you want to gather up your insignificant little power and face me, just let me know. I'll come and strike you down with all the power of a true god.
Tarrin sensed the incalculable levels of insult his Goddess had just unleashed against Val, and he clearly heard the howl of fury coming from his divine adversary. But then the howling stopped, and he could actually sense Val as he regathered himself.
Thy mission will end here, Were-cat, he warned. I will send a servant for what thou carries. Relenquish the Firestaff to me now, or thy daughter suffers for thine stubbornness!
"Listen to me," Tarrin said audibly in one of the most evil voices Jesmind had ever heard come out of him, "if you so much as touch my daughter, I'll make sure you will never get the Firestaff," he hissed with all the sincerity he could muster. "I understand the secret of the amulet, you bastard. If I destroy my amulet while the Firestaff is locked within it, it will be forever destroyed. If you harm her, you will never- never!-get the Firestaff. You'll be cursed to being forever bound inside your icon, with all your mighty power, but no way to bring it to bear against anything you cannot see!"
With some satisfaction, he realized he hit a nerve. The rage that swelled up against him was almost indescribable. Rage and fury and hatred, raw, sheer, utter hatred, a hatred so intense it almost had a life of its own.
"I am coming for my daughter," he said in a cold voice. "If you want a piece of me, you'll get your chance. But if you touch my daughter, if there's so much as a hair out of place on her head, I'll give you a reason to scream!"
That sent the imprisoned god into new throes of furious raging. Val had a temper. Tarrin filed that bit of information away for future use as the god somehow managed to get control of himself. Thou art quite brave to speak so to a god, he said in a smug kind of self-inflating way, as if to remind himself that he was one.
"When my daughter is concerned, I don't care who you are," he seethed.
Tarrin's disrespect seemed to flare the god's anger, but he kept it under control If thou art so insistent on death, then come, he said hotly. Come. I will allow thee to stand in the might of my presence and understand the folly that grips thy mind and soul.
"I'll be there, on my terms," Tarrin flung that back at Val. "So chew on that. I'll come at a time of my own choosing, and you will face me on my terms. What I have is more important to you than what you have is important to me. I know it, you know it. So wait for me, impotent godling, wait for me and know that you march to the drum of a mortal."
Val fled from him then, but it was a retreat marked by infuriated screams. Tarrin had managed to pretty thoroughly irritate and anger the god Val, and that was exactly what he wanted to do. Tarrin had learned the hard way that anger was more a weapon to one's opponent than it was to one's self. He wanted Val angry when they met face to face, because that anger would help him.
If you wanted him mad, you certainly did a good job, the Goddess said to him, her voice amused. Is that a part of your ultra-secret plan, kitten? So secret you won't even let me see it?
"I have my reasons."
I know you do. That's why I've respected your privacy, came her light response.
"I'm surprised you faced him like that."
I took a risk, she admitted. This isn't the first time me and Val have thrown rocks across the fence, kitten. You know that. He knows I'll face him if he pushes me, and that keeps him from trying. Val is just as afraid of losing as we are. When you're a god, you have a lot more to lose.
"Not as much as anyone else."
You misunderstand, kitten. Val won't be banished, he will die. His very soul is caught up in what he is. If he is destroyed, if he dies, that destruction will be utter. Where the soul of a mortal goes on to either reap the rewards or suffer the penalties for the actions they took in life, Val's soul will not do that. It will be destroyed in his death along with him, and he will face total annihilation, kitten. He fears that, as anyone would. That is the price of using the Firestaff, kitten. You become a god, but you commit your very existence to your new state of being.
He was a bit surprised at that, but it made sense, given Val's pattern of behavior. "I understand," he said. "So what's coming will be nothing more than a battle between armies."