Chapter 20
It was over, but there were too many mysteries to unravel.
Sapphire had come back not long after she left, carrying an unconscious, human Tarrin. And in Sapphire's massive paw with him had been the Firestaff.
She had handed him over to Kimmie, who immediately carried him into the manor and put him in bed. He was ashen, cold to the touch… and he was in his human form. How had that happened? When did he shapeshift into his human form, and for what purpose? Had he had to do it to get the Firestaff for some reason?
It was a puzzle beyond puzzles, and Kimmie and Dar sat there and mulled over it for quite a while. It was so much a puzzle that neither of them paid much attention at all to the stone-like, red artifact that had been brought back with him, that looked rather unremarkable. After all, it looked just like a red stone rod, a petrified staff. It meant very little to Kimmie, not compared to her precious, beloved Tarrin.
What had happened in that volcano? Why was Tarrin in his human form? She had never seen him in his human form before, and struck her as… odd. He looked too young, barely more than a teen. His scent in human form betrayed no trace of his nature, but that wasn't too unusual. In cat form, all Were-cats' scents became much more cat-like. In human form, since they had no trace of the Cat about their physical form, it radically altered their scents. The basic element of his scent was there, it was just lacking the extra texture she could identify when he was in his normal form. What had happened in that volcano? Sapphire had flown off, and then returned very quickly, carrying him. Had it been over when she arrived? Did she find him like that? She'd been so concerned about her mate that she ran off without asking any questions. She needed some answers, but Sapphire was way too large now to fit into the house. She'd have to go out to see her, but she wasn't about to leave her mate's side until he woke up, or Dolanna arrived. Dolanna knew how to care for Were-cats. She had been tending Tarrin since he'd been turned.
The absolute last person she ever expected to be there arrived not long after Kimmie put Tarrin to bed and began to try to unravel this perplexing mystery. The door blew open, and an infuriated Triana burst into the room. How did she get here? They were thousands of leagues from Suld! She had traversed two entire oceans!
"Where is he!" she shouted hotly, slamming the door behind her. "Where?" Her eyes locked on Kimmie. "Kimmie, where is my son?"
She seemed… agitated. Almost afraid. "He's here, Triana," she replied quickly, standing up. "They only just brought him back. He, he did it, Triana. He got the Firestaff!"
"Who gives a damn about that!" she snapped at her as she literally ran to the bed. She leaned over the pale Tarrin, who looked discomforted in his unconsciousness, stroked his cheek with infinite tenderness.
Her paws were trembling.
"I, I didn't believe it," she said in awe, touching his face with both paws, searching his features. "I can't believe it!" she gasped, pulling the covers down and putting her paws on his bare chest. "It's impossible!"
"What's impossible, Triana?" Kimmie demanded as Dar quickly joined them, silent and respectful in the powerful Were-cat matriarch's presence.
"It's gone!" she declared in fear. Fear, from Triana! That in itself was a miracle! "There's nothing of it left! It's like it had never been!"
"What, Triana? What's gone?" Kimmie demanded anxiously. She did not like the tone of Triana's voice.
"Kimmie, Tarrin is human!" she gasped, looking down at her with wild eyes. "His Were nature is gone. He's even younger, as if the clock was turned back to before he was bitten!"
Kimmie stared at Triana for a very long, very quiet moment. Dar gaped at Triana in shock. "He's not a Were-cat anymore?" she asked woodenly.
"Kimmie, it's just gone. Like it was ripped out of him!" Triana said in a tightly controlled voice. "Has he woke up? Did he speak at all?" she asked quickly, nervously.
Tarrin, not a Were-cat? She couldn't believe it! It wasn't possible! Nothing could take the Were nature away, not without killing the Were-kin! Her head spun and her vision swam. Her one love, not a Were-cat! What was going to happen to him? Was he going to survive whatever had done the impossible to him? She felt a little dizzy, and had to sit down on the bed to keep from passing out. Dar was there then, holding her paw and patting the back of it, trying to keep her from swooning.
"I felt his bond shatter," she said in a nervous voice, splitting her time between checking Kimmie and putting her paws on Tarrin. "I thought he was killed! I got over here as fast as I could, but now I see why it did that. He lost his bond because that part of him was stolen from him!"
"Stolen? Mistress Triana, what could possibly do this to him?" Dar asked her in a worried tone.
"Nothing could do this, boy," she said grimly. "It's supposedly impossible. We need to find out what happened. Who was there? Where are the others? Where is Camara?"
"I don't know," Kimmie said with a fret. "They left before sunrise. Sapphire brought Tarrin back alone."
"That bloody big dragon?" Triana asked. "I nearly wet myself when I saw that thing laying on the lawn. I didn't think there were any left!"
"That was Tarrin's pet drake," Kimmie told her. "She was actually a dragon, all this time!"
"Then we have some questions she needs to answer," Triana said bluntly. "You, Dar. Sit here and tend him. If he's not at least as well as he is now when I get back, I'm going to grind you up and feed you to him. Do you understand me?"
"Absolutely, Mistress Triana," Dar said in a sturdy voice, looking up at her with steady eyes. "He's my friend too. I'll watch him like he was my own brother."
"Come on, Kimmie," Triana ordered. "You know her. Let's go ask her what the hell is going on around here!"
Kimmie found herself being literally pulled along by the Were-cat matriarch, her mind spinning so badly she had trouble making her legs work. Tarrin, not a Were-cat anymore! It was inconceivable! Triana acting so uncharacteristic for her, but she loved Tarrin like her own son. What had happened to him was absolutely ghastly, as far as Were-cats were concerned. It was worse than death! Something had stripped away his very identity, taken away everything that he was!
Sapphire still lay calmly on the lawn, sedately as you pleased, with the entirety of the Sha'Kar population of the island looking at her from a very safe distance. Her tail, which had to be two hundred spans long, swished absently across the grass, but it stopped and she stood up as soon as Kimmie appeared in the doorway. The Sha'Kar gave out a collective cry of alarm and backed up several paces as the indescribably huge creature stirred. "Kimmie, is he well?" she asked intently.
"You are Sapphire? His drake?" Triana asked in reply.
Sapphire regarded the Were-cat matriarch with a penetrating stare. "You are Triana. His mother," she said after a moment.
"I am," she said in a blunt tone, now showing the massive creature any fear at all. "What happened to him, dragon? Tell me everything you know."
"Is he well?"
"If I can find out what happened, he may recover what he's lost," she replied immediately. "Tell me."
Sapphire hunkered down so her head wasn't fifty spans over them, and then described things that she had seen. She told them about sensing the other dragon after the restoration of the Weave, and her flight there to defend Tarrin from it after she was fully restored to her rightful power. Then she told them about clawing her way in and challenging the rival dragon, and the most unusual way the battle ended. "He just surrendered," she said in a perplexed tone. "I guess after five thousand years, once freedom was his, he decided to take it despite the situation."
"What happened to Tarrin after that?" Triana prompted.
She went on tell them about how Tarrin had brought the Firestaff down and stared at it for quite a while, then took it. She described the fire that surrounded him in detail. "When it stopped, I found him like he was when I brought you to him, Kimmie. Before the fire, he was like he always was. But afterward, he looked like he does now. I didn't know he could do that, Kimmie. I knew you could change into cats, but you never told me you can change into humans too."
"The Firestaff did it to him," Triana said with a sour look.
"What can we do, Triana?" Kimmie asked fearfully.
"Well, we need him to wake up so he can tell us what happened. After that, well, we'll see."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I guess it'll be up to him, Kimmie," she said with a stern look. "Any of us can restore him. We just have to bite him. But you know the law. It has to be his choice."
"What kind of stupid remark is that, Triana?" Kimmie flared suddenly. "That's Tarrin in there, not some hinkypink guttersnipe! We wouldn't be biting someone against his will, we'd be restoring an accepted member of Fae-da'Nar!"
"Oh really," Triana said archly. "If he refuses and you bite him anyway, how do you think he's going to feel about it, girl?" she demanded in a nasty tone.
"But, but it's Tarrin!" she said worriedly. "He's—it's what he is, Triana! I love him!"
"I love him too, Kimmie," she said with sudden compassion. "Believe me, it's all I can do not to march right back in there and bite him while he's still unconscious, and he has no idea what happened. But I'm not going to do that. Not yet. Until I can inspect him thoroughly and make sure what happened to him doesn't have any permanent side effects, I'm not going to be rash."
Kimmie was on the verge of tears, feeling her nose burning. But it was Tarrin! It was unnatural for him to be laying in there the way he was! She sniffled when the tears did come, wiping at her cheek with the back of her paw.
"I know, cub, I know," she said gently, putting her paw on her shoulder. "I feel the same way. But until we know what's going on, we have to leave things the way they are. And it's not like he died or anything, is it? He's still there, and he's still Tarrin."
"I guess you're right," she sniffled.
"What happened to my friend, Tarrin's mother?" Sapphire demanded. "It sounds serious, from the way you two talk."
"It is," Triana said honestly. "Whatever happened to him stripped him of his Were nature. He's nothing but a human now."
"Well, fix him," Sapphire told her imperiously. "I know what it's like to be forced to be something other than what you are. If he's become something he's not supposed to be, you have to fix it. Before it causes him pain."
"I'll do what I can, dragon," she promised. "He's not in a room with a window. Do you want me to make you one, so you can look in and see him?"
"That crazy Wizard, Phandebrass, he knows a spell that temporarily changes someone from one shape to another," Sapphire said. "I guess I'll have to ask him to use it on me."
"It only works on humans, but I know a spell that will shrink you, Sapphire," Kimmie offered. "I can make you the size you were before you changed, and it should last about an hour. Will you trust me to cast a spell on you?"
"I trust you much more than I trust him," Sapphire snorted. "Go get what you need, Kimmie. I want to be with Tarrin."
"I'll be right back," she said brusquely, then she and Triana went back inside.
Kimmie was really worried. What could have done this to her beloved mate? It seemed absolutely unbelievable! And yet the proof was laying in that bed in Arlan's room. If Triana said that Tarrin was human, then Tarrin was human. She wouldn't lie about something so deadly serious.
Her poor mate. Stripped of his Were nature, it was like a human losing his humanity. She just hoped that he wouldn't suffer like that for very long, and that they could restore him to what he was meant to be as soon as possible.
Tired.
He was so very tired.
But he was in a warm bed, and there were soft voices around him. All in all, he was rather comfortable, so much so that going back to sleep seemed like quite the good idea. They were very soft voices, speaking a strange musical language he had never heard before. There was light shining on his closed eyelids. Strange language. It sounded like singing. Maybe he was actually dreaming, and they were nothing but figments of his imagination. Some of the voices seemed harsh, but others were very sweet and melodious. Some were very deep, and others very high. He didn't recognize any of them, though, so maybe it really was a dream. Besides, he was tired. Maybe he should drift right back where he was before he became aware. Yes, just a little more sleep…
Then he heard a voice he could identify. It was Dolanna. She sounded a bit harried, and her voice was very distant from him, like she was across a small meadow.
Maybe it wasn't a dream. And maybe what happened before hadn't been a dream either.
It certainly seemed like a dream. After all, things like that certainly didn't seem very real. It was still fuzzy in his mind, but then again, nightmares tended to be like that. Some kind of wild-looking half cat, half human creature, with burning green eyes and white fur and a tail. She had been naked, and he could only barely recall hazy impressions of him and her wrestling around in a room with a big open window. They'd wrecked the place. She'd broken his arm, torn him up with her claws, but then everything just went… blank.
He struggled to remember. The last thing he remembered… no, it had to be a nightmare. It was him sticking a dagger in her chest. She fixed him with a baleful look after that, moving her head. She bared fangs, and then sank him into his arm—
—and then nothing. The next thing he knew, he was just waking up in his nice, cozy bed. It certainly was a nice bed. Duke Arren had been very nice to give him such a nice room, and make sure he got a good meal and a bath. He was a friend of Dolanna's, and he knew Tarrin's father! That surprised him quite a bit.
Dolanna was speaking in a language he could understand now. "He still has the braid and his brands," she said adamantly. "There has to be some trace of it left. It took it away, changed him, but not completely. If the change had been absolute, then his hair would be as it was two years ago, and the brands would have been wiped away."
"What is that going to mean?" a stranger asked.
"I am not sure. Everything that he knew for those two years is gone from him. I can even affect him with Mind weaves," she said in a surprised tone. "For all intents and purposes, he is human, Triana. I think those memories are still within him, but they are lost in the dark tunnels of his subconscious. The change back was not an absolute."
"Would a bite restore his mind?"
"I do not know, but I doubt it," she answered. "It would return him to his former condition, but I doubt it would restore his height. That was a function of age, and the age has been purged from him by whatever did this to him."
"Damn his height. I just want my son back," the woman called Triana said bluntly.
"You must go gently, Triana," Dolanna said. "His mind is as it was before he was bitten. I am the only person he is going to know. He will wake up thinking he is in Torrian, on his very first journey from home. And we both know what happened that night."
"Will he remember that?"
"I cannot tell you, but I think he will remember some parts of it. Enough for you and Kimmie to startle him. We must introduce you to him very gently, or he will be afraid of you. But what I remember of him from that time should make it easy. He was a very receptive and good-natured boy, and he had a very open mind. As soon as I put his fears aside about what happened with Jesmind, he would meet with you and not be afraid." There was a pause. "He will be nothing like what you remember, Triana. The boy before the bite was a completely different person. It may surprise you."
"What about his magic?" another voice asked.
"That is the interesting part," she said. "His powers of Sorcery are still intact."
"But his Druidic powers are gone," the woman Triana growled. "They were an extension of his Were nature. Without that, he has no power."
That seemed to upset this woman Triana. Tarrin was rather glad she wasn't mad at him. She certainly didn't sound like she was the type to cross. She reminded him of his mother. Nobody crossed Elke Kael if they wanted to enjoy the rest of their lives in peace.
"Do not do anything rash, Triana," Dolanna warned. "Remember that his mind is not as it was. If you bite him, the shock of it will cause him to suffer through the adjusting all over again. If he regains his memory, then it may not affect him. But if he does not, then it may be better to leave him as he is."
"Leave him? That's my son, woman!" the woman Triana snapped hotly at her. "Seeing him like that is the same for me as it would be for you to see your own child laying in a bed with his arms and legs cut off! He managed it once, he'll manage it again. It's that simple!"
"I can understand that, but you should at least give us the chance to try to restore his memory," Dolanna said in an almost pleading tone. "You know how much he suffered the first time. I do not want to see him have to repeat it!"
The woman Triana snorted in a peculiar fashion. It didn't sound like a sound a human could make. "You're right," she growled. "I can't bear to see him like that, but we have to try to restore his mind as well as his body. Who he is is what he knows as much as what he is. Without the memories to go with the body, it just won't seem like my son."
"He is your son, Triana," Dolanna assured her. "When he gets accustomed to you, you will see that. His personality will be different from what you know, but it will be your son. Maybe now you will get a chance to know him as I have known him, to understand why I love him so dearly as a friend. He is a remarkable young man. Perhaps more remarkable in how far he has come than from where he originated."
There was a long pause. "I think I'd like that, Dolanna," she told her.
Tarrin decided that it wasn't interesting enough anymore to bother. He drifted back to sleep, wondering just how much of that strange dream he'd remember when he woke up. Boy, he'd have a couple of wild ones to tell Walten and Faalken in the morning.
Light.
There was light touching his eyes. It had to be morning.
Without opening his eyes, Tarrin stirred. He was in a soft, warm bed with covers that felt like silk, they were so soft. He certainly felt rather well, if a little sleepy. The weariness of the days on the road had been completely wiped out by that good night's sleep. Even if he had had a few strange dreams.
Very strange dreams. Dreams of some great journey or voyage, where he was running off to the far corners of the world. Where he was meeting the strangest people and doing the weirdest things. Traveling across vast plains, sailing in ships across the sea. There were faces in those dreams, but he could never make any of them out, and there had been voices without words. That had been the strangest part. Voices that called, that he could understand, but he couldn't remember anything any of them said.
Yawning, Tarrin sat up slowly in the bed, still yet to open his eyes. He put his hand down as he rose up, rubbing at one of his eyes—
—and something pulled painfully at the back of his head.
Looking down, opening his eyes, he found himself looking at sleek, sheer sheets and a dark blue cover that looked like it was made of satin. They certainly didn't look like the covers that had been on his bed the night before. Under his hand, pinned between it and the bed, was a braid. A braid of very thick blond hair, and from the feel of it, it was attached to the back of his head.
He moved his hand and picked the thing up. It was surprisingly heavy, nearly as thick around as his wrist, and it had to be long enough to touch the backs of his thighs were he standing. What was this. He didn't have this when he went to bed! Had Faalken convinced Dolanna to come in and play a trick in him? He certainly seemed the type.
Putting his hand to the back of his head, he realized that it was real. They hadn't glued some woman's braid to the back of his head. It was his own hair. It had to be Faalken. Dolanna was a Sorceress, he was sure she knew some kind of magic trick to make hair grow. Faalken and Walten had probably snuck into his room with Dolanna last night and convinced her to make his hair grow. Then they braided it up the same way his mother did and left him.
It was about then that he noticed Dolanna. She was laying on the side of the bed—a circular bed!—with her dress on, feet on the floor but laid out on the bed, sleeping. Looking past her, he realized that he wasn't in his room anymore. Where was he now? This place was, was huge!
It was a room so big that they could have put the family farmhouse in it! A vaulted ceiling over a truly palatial chamber. There were a bunch of fancy looking chairs and backless couches right in the middle of it, and there was very expensive art hanging from the huge walls, as well as marble stands holding delicate sculptures along the walls. There were strange chest-like things with drawers in the front not far from the bed, and on the wall behind it were two doors and a big archway that led into some other room. Was this the main hall of Torrian Keep? They'd walked through it the night before, and it looked nothing like this! But it was the only room in the castle that could be large enough! There was light in the room, but there were no fires, no windows, and he couldn't figure out where the light was coming from. It was just there. It was the strangest thing he'd ever seen. He couldn't deny that the room was very beautiful, maybe some queen's grand bedchamber, but how had he ended up there?
Tarrin was about to get out of bed and try to figure out where he was, but he realized he didn't have any clothes on. What happened to his nightclothes? He couldn't get out of bed naked with Dolanna in the room!
Dolanna stirred then, then quickly sat up, her eyes opening. She looked at him very carefully for a long moment, then she gave him a warm smile and her expression became very relieved. "You are awake," she said with a sigh. "Finally. How do you feel?"
"Uh, I'm fine, Dolanna," he replied respectfully. "Where are we? This isn't my room."
"We, had to move you to another room," she said carefully, scooting around the circular bed until she was sitting on it closest to him. She reached out and put a hand to his forehead. "What is the last thing you remember?"
"Well, going to bed," he said.
"Nothing after that? Not even something that may seem like a dream?"
"Well," he said, his expression turning thoughtful. "I did have this strange dream," he admitted. "There was this weird woman with fur and a tail. She tried to kill me. But it had to be a dream. She tore me up pretty well before the dream was over. Strange, I can remember feeling pain. I didn't think you could feel pain in a dream."
She smiled wanly. "Good," she said. "That did happen, my dear one." Tarrin blinked, looking at her. She'd never called him that before. She was nice and all, and he did kind of like her, but he thought that maybe it was a bit too soon for her to be saying things like that. "Can you remember anything else? Any dreams, anything?"
"Sort of," he said, straining, as if trying to look through a cloud. "There was this long journey, but I can't remember anything other than that. I sailed on a ship, then walked across a desert."
"It is as I feared," she sighed. "Kimmie's spell only barely affected you."
"Spell? Who is Kimmie, Dolanna?"
"I am afraid that I am the bearer of bad tidings. As usual, it seems," she said with a rueful chuckle.
"What are you talking about, Dolanna?" he asked. "Where are my clothes. If we don't get going, we're not going to have much time to travel today."
"Where are we, dear one?" she asked intently.
"Torrian," he replied. "We just got here last night."
"We are not in Torrian, dear one," she told him.
He scoffed. "How can we not be in Torrian, Dolanna? Have I been sleeping that long?"
"In a manner, I guess we could say that you were," she said. "You have lost your memory, dear one. It was an… injury of sorts. We left Torrian two years ago, Tarrin. Your injury has caused you to forget everything since then."
Tarrin looked at her in surprise. An injury? What was she talking about? It seemed outlandish! And yet, the braid…
Tarrin put his hand on the strange braid, feeling it. She had no reason to lie to him. This thing certainly wasn't here when he went to bed—or at least when he thought he went to bed. They certainly weren't in his bedroom anymore, and this place didn't look like it belonged in Torrian. It looked like some queen's personal bedchamber.
She could certainly be telling the truth. She would have no reason to lie to him, and he didn't think that Faalken and Walten would be cruel enough to put her up to that kind of a sick joke. Dolanna wouldn't be the type to go through with it. She was one of his best friends—
How did he know that? He looked at her, looked at the expression of compassion on her face. He had only known her a few days. She seemed nice enough, and he could remember every moment they'd been together. But there was something else… something, distant. Yes, Dolanna was a friend. A very good friend.
"I, I think I believe you, Dolanna," he said hesitantly, feeling his head pound in an unusual manner. He put his fingers to his forehead, bowing down. "I feel strange."
"Kimmie tried to use a spell on you to restore your memory," she told him, reaching over and putting her hand on his shoulder. "It did not work as she intended, but she did say that it rekindled something. That vague dream of the long journey, my dear one, that was real. The spell seems to have jogged only very little, but Kimmie said its effects will linger. Flashes of lost memory may come to you from time to time, and when they do, there will be, unpleasant side effects."
Tarrin had to believe her. He trusted Dolanna with his life.
"Who is Kimmie?" he asked again.
She smiled. "I think you are not quite ready for that," she told him. "For the moment, let us say that she is a Wizard, who happens to be a very good friend. She and another Wizard named Phandebrass are even as we speak attempting to research a magical method of restoring your lost memory. We know it was not completely wiped from you, that it still lurks within you. That in and of itself is a miracle."
"It's no miracle, Dolanna," a voice called from the far side of the room.
Tarrin and Dolanna both looked, for he heard no door open. On the far side of the room stood the strangest woman Tarrin had ever seen. She was very tall, nearly as tall as his mother, shapely and sleek. Her face was exceedingly beautiful, and Tarrin had the strangest feeling of peace when he looked at it, but she had qualities that seemed downright unnatural. Her eyes were glowing pools of amber light, and her hair was striped in the seven colors of the rainbow. She wore a sparkling white dress that looked to be made out of silk. She strode towards them in an elegant manner, and Tarrin could feel… something in him respond to her. He knew this woman. He didn't know how he knew her, but he did. And that flash of memory caused another sudden headache. She came over to them and started up the three steps that led to the platform on which the bed rested, and Tarrin couldn't miss the look of absolute adoration on Dolanna's face. She stood up as the woman offered her hand to her, and Dolanna actually kneeled down and kissed the back of it.
"I just wanted to hold your hand, daughter," the woman said with amusement.
"Forgive me, Mother," Dolanna said in the most profound manner, rising again. "I lost myself."
"That's alright, daughter," she said, putting her hand on Dolanna's face in a loving gesture. "How is he?"
"Kimmie managed to rekindle something of what was lost, Mother," she answered. "But only the vaguest impressions. We do not know how he managed to keep anything at all."
"That was my doing," she answered. "Before you left Suld, I placed my power in him to try to protect him from what happened. Unfortunately, that power activated prematurely to protect him from the Weavequake," she said with a frown. "A miscalculation on my part. But there was enough of it left to at least manage to save some part of it, burying it so deeply that the curse could not find it. That's why Kimmie's spell failed. It just couldn't reach deeply enough into him to get it back. I'm quite impressed you managed to figure out it wasn't complete."
"The braid and the brands, Mother," Dolanna answered. "He did not have the braid or the brands before. We knew that there had to be something there, or his hair would have been as it was two years ago, and the brands gone."
"Clever daughter," she said with a smile. "I'm quite proud of you, you know. You're one of my very best children."
Dolanna absolutely beamed.
The strange woman sat on the bed by him, and that close to her, he could feel her aura of power. This woman had to be the most powerful Sorceress alive! Her appearance tickled at him in the strangest manner, as if he had met her before… but he couldn't remember. She smiled at him lovingly and reached out her hand, and he automatically offered his own. Her touch was warm, thrilling, a little shock of energy, and her grip was very gentle. She looked at him with those glowing eyes, and Tarrin felt just a tiny bit uncomfortable.
"So," she said after a moment of regarding him. "How do you feel, kitten?"
That seemed familiar to him. He tried to remember, but it made his head throb painfully. "Uh, fine, my Lady," he said in a nervous tone.
"Call me Mother, kitten," she smiled. "I'm rather fond of it."
"Can you restore him, Mother?" Dolanna asked.
"I'm afraid not," she sighed. "To do so would be to break a vow to my own parents. I swore not to interfere in what is. I'm only allowed to try to plan for what may be. That's why I hid my power in him, to try to prevent this. I knew of it. It may have partially failed, but at least it managed to protect him."
"What would have happened if you had not granted him that power?" Dolanna asked.
"His memory would be completely gone," she answered. "As if it never was. When it is done like that, there is nothing that can be done to restore it. We are just lucky that his memory was not the spell's intended target, or not even my power would have saved him."
"What was its purpose?" Dolanna asked. "The poem said it would take all that was, is, and would be. We thought it meant that it would kill."
"The purpose of the spell was to strip the person who touched the Firestaff of the one thing that had brought them to it. To take away the desire to use it," she said. "But Tarrin had no desire to use it. His intent was to protect it. The quest for power did not consume him as it did others, and his need to protect it was not the center of his life. So the spell instead took away the one thing that defined his existence, the one thing that made him what he was."
"His Were nature," Dolanna breathed.
"If there is one thing that defined him, wouldn't that be it?" she asked with a nod. "His magic didn't define him, because he didn't center his life on it. The quest didn't define him, because he was only doing it because I asked him to do. The one thing that defined my kitten's life was what he was. And so it was stripped from him. In that stripping, everything that he was when he was Were was also taken, including the memory of him being one. My power couldn't stop the taking of his body, but it could protect his mind. Had it not misfired in the Weavequake, he wouldn't have lost any of his memory at all," she frowned.
Tarrin looked up at them. What were they talking about? What was a where? Had he misunderstood? Had he been one of these where things? Was it some kind of organization, like the Knights?
"Can we restore his mind, Mother?"
"I'm sure Phandebrass will think of something," she smiled. "He may be a bit of ditz, but when he rolls up his sleeves, you won't find a better Wizard."
"Should we allow the human Sorcerers here to try?"
"Not until you can trust them, Dolanna. The way they were conditioned doesn't make them dependable, and I'll not let a hand touch my kitten that isn't doing it for his own benefit."
Tarrin looked up at this strange woman, and felt… love. It was radiating from her, and he found it very nice to be in her presence. He gripped her hand gently, feeling the thrill of her touch. "Mother," he addressed her. "What happened to me?"
"It's a very long story, my kitten," she smiled. "And I don't have the time to tell it to you. But Dolanna will tell you everything. Believe her, kitten. No matter how outlandish or ridiculous what she says may sound, believe every word of it. You led a very unusual life for these last two years, my kitten," she said with a charming smile. "Full of danger and magic and excitement. It wasn't all happy for you. I won't lie to you in that regard. You had some very dark times. But you came through them, and you made me proud of you. You did everything you promised me you'd do, everything and so much more. I'm so proud of you I could just burst!" she declared, squeezing his hand gently. Tarrin felt a strange thrill that she seemed so happy with whatever he did for her. "So, for right now, just rest, my kitten. You have done well, and you deserve it. While Phandebrass and Kimmie research a means to restore your memory, you should meet your friends, let them see you and know that you're alright. I'm sure they're curious to know what you were like before all this happened."
"Uh, Mother, about that," Dolanna said delicately. "Triana wants—"
"I know what she wants, daughter," the strange woman answered, cutting her off.
"Can it be done? I mean, the magic stripped it out of him. Can it be replaced?"
"Easily," she replied. "Triana was right in that regard. But this time," she said, looking down at Tarrin seriously. "This time it will be his choice. I've already warned Triana. If the Were-cats do anything without his permission, I'll be extremely cross with them."
"Will he be as he was before?"
"Shorter," she said with a smile. "You were right about that, daughter. But he'll have the fetlocks. Those became a part of his nature when he grew, like growing a beard. You can't ungrow one, you know."
"But he will be the same in, in personality?"
"Just the same," she smiled down at him. "When he gets back his memory, it will be as if this never happened to him, from a mental point of view. Physically, there will be that one little change." She smiled down at him. "I dare say that when he gets his memory back, he'll demand to be restored. Being like this to him would be unnatural."
Tarrin listened to them, and realized that something pretty dramatic must have happened to him. Something big, that had changed his life. And whatever it was, something had taken it away from him, and robbed him of the memory of ever being that way to begin with.
Tarrin mulled that over, remembering that last thing he could last night—at least last night to him. It was that fight with that furry woman. She had torn him up with her claws. He snatched his dagger off the bedstand and stabbed her right in the chest with it. She didn't seem to be phased by it at all. She just fixed those glowing green eyes on him, baleful with hate, and sank her fangs into his arm—
And they said Were. Now where as in a place, but Were. As in Were-kin!
It all came together in his mind, and his grip on the woman's hand suddenly clamped down like a vice. She was a Were-kin! His father had taught him about some of the various creatures of the deep forest, and the Were-kin were one of them! She'd bitten him, and if she really was a Were-creature, she would have infected him too!
"Figured it out, I see," the strange woman smiled gently. "It's not as bad as you may think, kitten. And yes, that's why I call you kitten," she grinned. "After you adjusted to it, you were actually quite happy being a Were-cat. You had good friends, you had a very prominent position in their society, you had an adopted family among them—you'll meet your mother in a little while—and you had wonderful plans for the future. But the first time it happened, it happened when you had no choice," she said with a compassionate look. "You didn't want it, and the one who bit you certainly didn't intend for it to happen. That caused you quite a bit of pain, kitten. This time, if, after you get back your memory, you look back on what you had and decide it's what you want, you can let them bite you and return to that life. But, if you decide that you don't want that again, you can say no and remain a human. This time, my dear kitten, you will have a choice. It's the one thing I could never give you before, and I want you to know that your future is your own, and you can be anything you want, have any life you want."
That calmed him down. He, he had liked being a Were-cat? He couldn't remember, but it was certainly possible. His mother had taught him to approach any situation and not look at what could go wrong, but consider the benefits he may gain. He certainly had to admit that it was possible that he did get used to that and came to like it. After all, he couldn't remember, but those around him certainly could. If they said he was happy being a Were-cat, he'd have no reason to disbelieve them.
"You-you mean it was all an accident?" he asked. "You said that that other one didn't intend for it to happen."
Her expression turned serious. "That's a subject we'll leave for later on. Without your full memory, what I have to tell you may make you take it the wrong way. But you understood before. When you get your memory back, you'll understand again."
She seemed a little reluctant, but he'd bow to her for now. It sounded like what happened to turn him into a Were-cat was a pretty sticky subject. But he'd find out. Mother taught him to be patient, and he had time.
It seemed all too wild to believe, but their statements tickled at something in the back of his mind in a peculiar way. He knew they were telling the truth, even if he couldn't remember it himself. He was a little frightened by what he heard so far—he'd been a Were-cat!—but he was sure things would make more sense to him as they told him more and more about where he was, why he was there, and what had happened to him during the lost period in his memory. Actually, it sounded like quite a fascinating story. Danger, magic, and excitement, eh? He must have been leading quite a life before he lost his memory.
He scratched absently at his shoulder… and felt a roughness there that hadn't been there before. He looked down at his shoulder and saw that he had a brand there, a brand depicting a sword and a spear crossed over one another. They weren't very large, but they were definitely noticeable.
"Those are a legacy of your past," the woman told him with a smile. "There's one on your other shoulder too. Look at it," she said, releasing his hand so he could look.
She was right. On that shoulder, there was a brand that had a circle with what looked like a horizon inside it, and a crescent moon rising over the horizon.
"When did I get these?" he asked. "They must have hurt."
"Fara'Nae wasn't about to let her mark on you be erased," the woman chuckled. "She took steps, the same as I did."
"Who is Fara'Nae?" he asked. "One of my friends?"
"In a way, she is," the woman grinned. "She's a cousin of mine, actually. She and I, we take turns watching out for you." She laughed. "We fight over you quite a bit, truth be told. Neither of us likes to share."
That made absolutely no sense to him. Given everything else he'd heard so far, he decided it was something best left to figuring out later. He continued to look down at the brands, marveling at them, silently glad he didn't remember getting them. That had to have hurt.
"Well, I'm afraid I have to go now," she said to him with a smile. "Don't worry, kitten. We'll see each other again." She leaned down and kissed him lightly on the forehead, and Tarrin felt a shockwave of power flow through him at the touch of her lips. It felt… familiar to him somehow, and everything about the strange woman put him at ease. She was a dear friend, someone he loved very much. "I think he's ready to meet the others, Dolanna," she told her as she stood up. "But go slow with the story about what he's lost. There's a lot there, and if you leave out the wrong things, it may upset him. Make sure you explain all of it in turn."
"I will be careful, Mother," Dolanna said, taking her hand again and holding onto it as if letting go would kill her. "What will you do now?"
"Put the fear of their lives into the Sha'Kar," she said with a grim smile. "My children had strayed."
"It was not their fault, Mother."
"Not for some of them," she said in a dangerous tone. "But there's a lot of bad upbringing I need to reverse, and a little direct intervention seems to me to be the best way to go about it. My older children will understand, but the kids are spoiled. They need to be whipped into shape."
"I am sure they will embrace their culture," Dolanna said. "Now that they know their worship was not empty."
"I heard every word," she growled. "Even if I couldn't answer back. Some of them are going to learn a little etiquette."
"Will you come see me again, Mother?" Dolanna asked in a small voice.
"Daughter, this kind of direct action doesn't happen often," she said with a warm smile. "It's not like we wander around this way all the time. But you can come see me any time you want. The Heart is where you and I commune and enjoy company. We can even gossip like girlfriends if that's what you want to do," she added with a light smile. "If you ever feel lonely for me, come to me. I will always be there for you."
Dolanna bowed her head, and Tarrin was surprised to see that she was crying. Just who was this strange woman?
She raised Dolanna's chin with a slender finger and smiled down at her. "Such a good daughter you are, Dolanna. I'm proud of you, and you'll never know how thankful I am you've been with me."
"Your thanks mean all to me, Mother," Dolanna said in a trembling voice. "I am a faithful and dutiful daughter."
"You've proved it a thousand times over, daughter," she smiled, touching her face one more time. "Now let me go and show my more wrathful nature to some children who haven't been quite as devoted as you two have been."
"Be easy with them, Mother. It was not their fault."
"True, but I still want them to sweat a bit," she said with a smile and a wink.
Dolanna and Tarrin watched the strange woman walk away. She certainly was unusual. Was she one of those amazing things that had happened to him during that time? She seemed to know him very well. Was she some kind of queen? She certainly seemed like a queen. Dolanna looked to adore her, and she talked like she commanded everyone and everything around her. And she just seemed like a queen to him. Elegant, beautiful, regal, a woman accustomed to obedience from those around her. She was obviously some kind of powerful magician as well. Whatever had done that to her hair and eyes certainly wasn't natural. But in the strangest way, they didn't look too weird, almost as if they belonged on her, as if she wouldn't look right unless her eyes did glow and her hair was all different colors like that. Was this her house? Was he sleeping in her personal bed? Anything was possible, he guessed. Until they told him what had happened, he could do nothing but guess.
She certainly was nice.
"Dolanna, who is that?" Tarrin asked quietly as she walked towards the door.
"Dear one, if I told you right now, you would not believe me," she said with a loving smile. "Who she is will become clear when you hear the tale of the time you have forgotten."
"Alright," he said calmly. "Could you get me some clothes?"
She laughed. "Already the change is apparent. The Tarrin I know now would not have thought twice about getting out of that bed in my presence."
"Well, that other me sounds a bit shameless," Tarrin said.
Dolanna smiled fondly at him. "I would not call it shameless. It was more of an indifference," she said to him. "Triana foresaw this, and brought clothes for you."
The woman reached the door and opened it, and paused within it. Tarrin then saw what had to be one of those Were-cats barge into the room. And he was shocked! She was a very handsome woman, with a strong face that was quite pretty, but her stony expression subdued her attractive features. She had strange tawny fur with slightly darker stripes in it on her arms, and her arms ended in oversized hands with really big fingers. Her feet were oversized too, bare, looking like some kind of cross between a slender human foot and a wide cat's paw. No shoe would have fit those feet. She had a tail, it was lashing behind her, and she had cat's ears poking out of an unruly mane of hair that was the same color as her fur.
But what made her amazing was how tall she was. The nice queen was a very tall woman, but she didn't even come up to this Were-cat's collarbones! Dolanna could stand beneath the swell of her breasts! Never in his entire life had he seen someone so tall!
That tall, tall woman took one look in his direction, then started towards him at a very fast walk. He felt rather intimidated as she kept getting bigger and bigger as she neared. When she was at the base of the three steps leading to the bed, her head was on level with his! When she came up those steps, she absolutely towered over him. He looked at her with undisguised awe, feeling a sense about the woman, a sense of absolute power that would make anyone obey her without question. This was a woman that told people what to do, and they did it. This was not a woman to sass.
"Triana," Dolanna greeted fondly. "As you can see, he is awake and well."
She sat down on the bed, and that stony mask broke as she gave him a very gentle, very loving smile. She didn't seem half as scary now as she had just a moment ago. She reached out with a hand so huge that both of Tarrin's hands would fit inside it. He felt like a little boy compared to her, still hanging onto his mother's apron strings.
If her appearance was intimidating, that smile was not. It did show her rather nasty-looking fangs, but he could see her gentle demeanor in the way she looked at him. This had to be the adopted family that that woman had mentioned. He reached out to her timidly and put his hand in her paw, and she closed her hand around it in a gentle grip. "My sweet cub, you look so strange now," she told him in a strong voice, but a very gentle, nearly crooning one. She reached out with her other massive hand and put it on the side of his face. She could have palmed his head, and he had the feeling that those hands were tremendously powerful, but she touched him with an almost incredibly moving tenderness.
"Y-You're the woman that that queen mentioned?" he asked. "My adopted family?"
"I'm your bond-mother," she told him with that same smile. "You're my son, cub. As much my son as any of my natural children. What does he know, Dolanna?" she asked.
"Very little, Triana," she replied. "Kimmie's spell only stirred the vaguest of impressions about what happened. Our Mother told him what he used to be, but little else."
"She would," the woman Triana grunted. "So, you know you used to be one of us?"
He nodded.
"What do you think about that?"
"I'm not sure what to think," he replied. "I don't remember any of it. But the queen said I was happy. I… I think I remember something about you, my lady," he said hesitantly as a flash of memory touched him, accompanied by a stabbing headache. Her sitting at his bedside, holding his hand—paw—hand, tending to him with great care while he was ill. "Did, did you help me once when I was sick?"
Triana gave him a loving smile. "It was a while ago," she answered in a very gentle tone. "I think that was when I found I loved you as my own, my cub. You were so young, but there was a strength in you that impressed me very much."
That flash of memory calmed him considerably. She was someone he did care for, he was certain of that. "Why am I here?" he blurted without really thinking about it. "I mean, what am I doing here? What happened to me?"
"It's a very, very long story, cub, and I'm still trying to piece all of it together. What happened here, that is," she replied. "But I can tell you much of what happened to you a long time ago, cub. Would you like to hear it?"
"Yes, I would," he said immediately.
"Carefully, Triana," Dolanna warned. "Remember, there is much to the story, and not all of it is good. He must understand the whole of it, or it will not make sense and will frighten him."
"You can fill in anything I leave out, and he can always ask questions, Dolanna," the tall, tall Were-cat said absently. "He asked. If he's ready to ask, then he's ready to hear the answer."
"And there are other parts of the story, Tarrin," Dolanna told him. Myself and Allia, Dar and Keritanima, we will tell you things that Triana does not know. After all, we have been with you longest. But for now, I think your mother can begin the tale."
"Well, cub? Do you think you're ready to hear it? I warn you now, I don't honey-coat things. You'll get the truth from me, and not everything in your past is all sweetness and light. You may actually be shocked at some of the things that happened, and some of the things you did. So, knowing that, do you want to hear the story?"
Tarrin looked at her. If she was right, then it didn't sound like all his time as a Were-cat was as happy as it sounded he had been lately. He heard the stories from his father, who understood the true nature of the Were-kin a lot better than the wild rumor-flinging villagers. He wasn't sure which to believe, his father or the villagers, but he did always keep an open mind about those kinds of things. He wasn't the type to discount a version of a tale when there was no way it could be proved one way or another. He already had an idea that they were going to tell him about how he did mean things to people, and he thought he could accept that.
Besides, it sounded like a fascinating tale. Danger, magic, and excitement. Those had been the ingredients of many a childhood fantasy for a young boy who dreamed of being a Knight, dreams of riding his charger with his armor shining in the sun, facing hordes of dark, evil enemies and vanquishing them. Where the hero always won and things always turned out right. This didn't sound like one of those kinds of stories, but he couldn't help but be enthralled by the idea of hearing what he was like, a forgotten version of himself, who had lived two years into his own future. And now the younger version of himself had the chance to look through that window and see himself after two years of living an interesting life, as the queen woman put it, a life of danger, magic, and excitement. He wondered what he had seen in that time, who he had met, where he had been. What wonders he had seen, what dangers he had faced. And what he had been doing that whole time. From the sounds of things, he was on some kind of mission or journey. The queen woman said he'd performed up to her every expectation, and the sense of it he got was that he was out here doing something specific. Since he was going to the Tower, maybe that meant that the Tower was the one that sent him on this task. Was the queen woman the Keeper? Was he in Suld now? The Keeper was supposed to be a very strong Sorceress… maybe the magic did that to her hair and eyes. And Dolanna certainly was obedient to her.
Danger, magic, and excitement. Whether he was ready to know what had happened to him, the allure of hearing a tale with those three most interesting elements was just too much of a temptation for a dreamer like him to ignore.
He drew up his knees and looked up at her, leaning his head on his hand. "I'd like to hear it," he said enthusiastically.
"Even if you won't like what you hear?"
"Life can't always be what you want to hear, Lady Triana. Besides, if I was happy at the end, does it matter what happened in the middle?"
"He is different," Triana said to Dolanna. "But he's still the cub I remember. This, it's the side of himself he never showed to anyone else."
"Now you understand, Triana," Dolanna said with a gentle smile. "Now you understand."
"Right then. The story. And cub, call me mother. Don't call me Lady Triana. It sounds too weird."
"I—alright, uh, mother," he said.
His hand still in this strange Were-cat woman's oversized hand, he listened with rapt attention as she started at the very beginning. It was going to be a very long story, told to him by more than one person, but he was looking forward to it. He wondered what it was he was doing. He wondered what dark obstacles had been in his path. He wondered who he had met, what he had seen, the places he had gone, the dangers he had faced. He wondered how it all ended, he wondered if the end had truly come at all. In any case, with a little patience, he was sure he would find out.
After all, it was the story of his life. A life he couldn't remember, but his life all the same.
A life of danger, magic, and excitement. What more could a dream-filled boy from a rural village want?
"I guess it all started the night you met Jesmind, cub. She's my oldest daughter. I wasn't there, but from what I understand, she was sent to your room…"