the minute he told Keritanima--or she told him--what was going on.  He'd set events into motion that would ultimately end with him fleeing the Tower, and would put him in a great deal of danger.  But he'd grown used to that feeling.  He didn't feel safe in the Tower, not even around the very people that professed to be so worried about him, and it had developed into a constant tension within him that almost seemed to be a part of him now.  It had been the visit to his parents that made it vanish, made him understand what it was and how it affected his behavior.  It was what made him so short-tempered and waspish.  Hitting Amelyn was a good example.  He never meant to strike her, but when she laid her attitude down on him, he simply reacted, and that had been the result.  And it had felt so normal that he had brushed it off, as if it was an entirely proper thing to do.  To the Cat, he guessed it was.  Exertion of physical force was perfectly acceptable to his animal instincts, for to them, the ends justified the means.  He wanted her out of the way, and she was moved out of his way.  Had he been outside the Tower grounds, he doubted he would ever have done something like that.  And now that he knew about it, understood it, he would have a better chance of controlling it.
	It still made him nervous, though.  He had no idea how to play these games of intrigue.   He hoped that what he did was a good way to start.  It was designed to both set up the rebellion Keritanima wanted, and also to try to provoke the Keeper into divulging something of use to them in front of Tiella.  His friend would only have five days to help, because he knew her, and he knew that she could breeze through the final test of the Novitiate.  Tiella was very smart.  He'd rather have set things up with the Wikuni first, Goddess knew how many of her plans he disrupted by acting on his own, but it had been a spur of the moment thing.  The Cat liked spontenaity, and it impressed that characteristic into Tarrin's conscious mind.
	Two worries, very different, but neither of them easy to put aside.  The balance in him seemed stable enough, but actions like what he did to Amelyn never failed to start making him worry about where he stood within himself.  Because of the totality of the merging between him and the animal instincts, he had lost the ability to tell where his rational mind ended, and his instincts began.  He guessed that was good, but it was still a frightening concept.  The old Tarrin, the idealistic, dreamy youth who was probably a bit too naive, was gone.  He was dead.  There was nothing but the new Tarrin now, a brooding, moody individual always one step from hurting someone.  But maybe the new Tarrin would himself fade away in time, giving ground to the aspect of himself that he discovered the night before.  An entirely different Tarrin appeared last night, one that even surprised him, that of a carefree, playful young Were-cat who felt perfectly at ease with himself and those around him.
	That was a reaction to his environment, and it made him realize that he was very much an animal in that regard.  He was being influenced by what he felt around him.  He never felt safe in the Tower, was always on his guard and always wary and afraid, and it showed in his behavior.  When he escaped from the Tower, if only for a night, it was as if he had been reborn.  But what worried him in that regard was how long he could endure the environment of fear before it permanently scarred him.  Jesmind had talked about being Feral, and now he had an idea of what that meant.  The idea that he would never feel safe anywhere, would always live in fear, was almost enough to send him into a panic.
	Forgetting the book, Tarrin changed form and curled up in the grass beside it, finding the ground much more comfortable when he was in his cat form.  The warmth of the sun almost seemed to stroke his fur, and it seduced him into closing his eyes and simply basking in it.
	You seem troubled, my kitten, that choral voice shimmered around him.
	"Goddess," he said respectfully in the manner of the Cat.  "Where have you been?"
	Where have you been? she demanded in reply.  As you can see, it's not like I can step down and go for a walk.
	"Yes you could."
	True, but it always sounds good, she said in a choral echo of silvery laughter.
	"I thought you left for good."
	Kitten, I am always with you, she told him in a loving voice.  You may not feel me, but your heart does.  You should listen to it.  The amulet you wear connects you to me, just as much as the brands on your shoulders connect you to Fara'Nae.  It lets us keep track of you, and make sure you're doing alright.  I worry about you.  So does she, for that matter.
	"I guess I feel good that you do," he said honestly, then he caught her words.  "She worries about me?  Who?"
	Fara'Nae, kitten, she replied.  Your brands make you one of her children too.  She keeps an eye on both you and Allia.  Now, since I'm glad that I can still lure you in here, let's move on to the business I have with you.
	"You lured me in here?"
	Why else did you want to come? she asked winsomely.
	"I wanted to go somewhere where nobody would bother me."
	Yes, and all it took was a little reminder of my courtyard to bring you to me, she told him.  Don't worry at it, kitten.  It's a god thing.
	"I'll take your word for it," he said urbanely.
	She laughed delightedly.  Look at my statue, kitten, she ordered, and he raised his head and did so.  Around the nude figure's neck was a shaeram, one that looked like it was made of silver.  You see the shaeram?  I want you to take it and give it to Keritanima.  It's for her, just as your amulet was for you and the ivory shaeram was for Allia.
	"Why don't you just lure her in here?"
	Because Keritanima is agnostic, she replied calmly.  That means that, though she knows the gods exist, she doesn't actively worship any of them because they haven't proved that they want her.
	"That doesn't make any sense."
	It's a common trait in mortalkind, kitten.  She's rejecting the gods, because she feels that they have rejected her.  It would take a god speaking directly to her to prove that she's wanted, but her agnosticism prevents any god  from speaking directly to her.  I can't speak to her heart until she opens it to me.
	"You spoke to me."
	Yes, but you had an open mind, and you don't reject the gods, she replied.  Keritanima's heart is closed, because of her position.  She can't afford to be open to such things, because she sees it as a weakness, a way for her enemies to come at her.  She's even more distrustful than you.
	"Oh," Tarrin mused, thinking that he understood it.  "It sounds like you want her."
	She is a good woman, kitten, the Goddess told him.  No god turns away from a subject in need, and Keritanima is in need.  If she's not careful, she'll end up like her father.  Dark, cynical, and obsessed with holding onto her throne.  It would be a tragedy to see such potential wasted.  She's just like you, my kitten.  All she needs is some positive support and a bit of nurturing, and she'll turn out to be a wonderful queen.  The kind of queen that's remembered for thousands of years for her beneficent rule.
	"She doesn't want to be queen."
	We'll see, the Goddess said slyly.  I want you to give her the amulet, kitten.  Give it to her, and tell her that it's a gift from the goddess of the katzh-dashi.  If I'm right, it will give me enough of an opening to speak to her heart.
	"That'll probably make her suspicious."
	Yes, it will, but it will also make her curious, the Goddess replied.  That curiosity may be enough.  Keritanima is just like the fox she resembles.  She's intensely curious, and once her curiosity has been piqued, she's almost incapable of not satisfying it.
	"I noticed that about her."
	I rather thought that you did.  I've also noticed you noticing some other things about her.
	Had he been in his humanoid form, he would have blushed.  "I guess it's just curiosity," he replied.  "All that fur must itch underneath those clothes."
	Look at it from her side.  She's never known anything else, now has she?
	Tarrin couldn't argue that point.
	Just do me my favor, kitten.  Try to get it to her as soon as you can.  It's rather important.
	"I will," he promised.  "I have a question."
	Go ahead.
	"What's going on?  I know you know."
	Yes, but I can't tell you, she said, almost regretfully.  There are things that you have to discover on your own, and the actions you take because of what you know will decide your future.  I can't interfere, because they must be your choices, unclouded by nudging and advice.  I can't tell you anything you don't already know, but I can clarify some information you already possess.
	"If I were to throw out an assumption, would you tell me if it's right?"
	Some yes, some no, she replied.  It will depend on how correct it is.
	"Can you tell me what happened to me?  In the Conduit?"
	All I can say is that it awakened your true power, she replied.  It is a part of who and what you are.  They call you a Weavespinner, and they are correct.  But they don't understand what that title truly means.
	"What does it mean?"
	It means that you are the Mi'Shara, she replied cryptically.
	Mi'Shara?  What in the world did that mean?
	"That's not much of an answer."
	It wasn't much of a question, she replied whimsically.  Time is growing short, my kitten.  Do me my favor and give Keritanima the amulet.  There will be time enough for talking later.  Remember, I do have other things to do, and I'm putting them off to talk to you.
	"I'm so sorry to disrupt your schedule," Tarrin said dryly.
	The Goddess laughed, a sound that vibrated in his soul, and in the strangest way, pleased him greatly.  You are a treaure, my kitten, she told him.  We will talk again soon.  Until then, be well, and remember that I love you.
	And then the sensation of her was gone, leaving inside him an emptiness, and even more questions.  And one certainty.
	The Goddess had planted that information, just as deftly as Keritanima directed her spies.  She was salting him with information he would need for those future choices, information that would allow him to make those choices.
	The Goddess also had a hand to play, and she was playing it through him.
	Tarrin realized that he was an instrument of the Goddess of the Sorcerers, but he also knew, in his soul, that she cared for him.  She wouldn't do something horrible to him.  It was a complex relationship, that was true, but he trusted her.
	He had faith in her.
	Changing form, Tarrin waded through the fountain and carefully, gently slipped the amulet's silver chain off the statue's neck.  The smell of the silver rose his hackles, and his pads burned where it touched him, clear warnings to him that the metal posed a danger to him.  He stared at the statue for a long moment, taking in its flawless beauty, but his attention was focused on the gentle, loving expression on its face.
	He had no idea what mire of intrigue he was thrown into, but he had the feeling that the Goddess would provide, even as he was certain that she was also a player in the game.  Tarrin was her trump card, and he realized that he would do what she asked, if only because he trusted her, he believed in her.
	She was his Goddess, and he had a duty to obey.
	"I do believe," he said to the statue, cupping its lovely face with his paw's palm.  "I do have faith.  And I don't think I'll ever be alone."  He leaned in and, ever-so-gently, kissed the statue on the cheek.
	Then he was gone, to find Keritanima, to come to terms with the stirrings of religious contentment he felt inside.
	In the empty courtyard, where not even the wind reached, the elegant, beautiful statue was smiling, and its eyes blazed with incandescent white light.  The grass and flowers rippled from the power emanating from the statue in cascading waves, invisible bands of pure power that shivered the air itself.
	The incandescent blazing eyes of the statue dimmed, and the expression on its stone face was one of joy.

	Tarrin caught up with Keritanima just as she broke class for lunch.  Tarrin himself was still a bit dazed after accepting the Goddess.  It was a strange feeling, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant.  Keritanima looked distracted, no doubt because her mind was still engulfed in the teaching of Sorcery.  The Wikuni was indeed a natural, he realized.  After only days of training she could conjure up very effective illusions.  Allia, on the other hand, was still struggling just to pull flows from the strands.  After the individual training, then they would all be put back into a class, where they would learn standard weaves, and also learn more about the Tower, the Goddess, and other things that only concerned those who could become katzh-dashi.
	"Tarrin," she said in a nasal voice that told him that he was addressing the Brat Princess.  "Want to come eat lunch with me?"
	"I guess so," he replied after a slight hesitation.
	"You forgot something," she flared, her amber eyes flashing.
	"Your Highness," he added absently.
	"That's better," she said calmly.
	"What did you learn today?"
	"Oh, I learned lots of things!" she said brightly.  The Brat Princess shared Keritanima's enthusiasm for Sorcery.  "Lula's such a good teacher.  She taught me a weave that chills my milk, and a weave that makes stone become soft like clay, and another weave that warms the air around me if I'm cold."
	"It sounds like you're doing very well."
	"I love Sorcery!" she beamed.  "It's so fun!" She patted him on the arm.  "I'll never have to worry about getting dresses the right color, or freezing my tail off in that drafty old castle my father makes us live in, and I'll be able to do all those little things that nobody can ever get right.  I can finally make everything just perfect!"
	"I'm so happy for you," he said absently.  She punched him in the arm.  "Your Highness."
	They stepped out into the cool autumn air, and Keritanima winced against the bright sunshine briefly.  She imperiously glared at him until he offered his arm to her, and she placed her hand within it.  He escorted her across the grounds, towards the main Tower.  "What did you do today?" she asked idly.
	"Not much," he said.  "Just read, napped, and almost killed Amelyn."
	She gave him a direct, penetrating stare.  "What happened?"
	"She got on my nerves," he said in a blunt voice.  "I told her that I wouldn't do anything until they let me out of this damned prison to see my parents.  My father was injured, and I want to see him and make sure he's alright.  So I told them that I wasn't going to do anything until they let me out of here to see my father."
	"You tell them, Tarrin," she giggled.  "Don't let them push you around."
	"Not anymore," he grated.
	She squeezed his arm gently.  He took that as a blessing as to what he had done.  That was a relief.  If he accidentally screwed up Keritanima's plans, it could create a big mess.
	"Oh, and I have a present for you," he said suddenly.
	"A present?  For me?  How sweet," she beamed.  "Can I see it?"
	He fished the silver amulet and chain out of his trousers.  The amulet itself was too bit to put in his pocket, so he'd had to cinch the amulet between the waist of his trousers and his skin and put the chain in the pocket, and it had been creating a burning itch on his hip ever since.
	"Isn't this one of those Sorcerer necklaces?  Those shay-rams?
	He nodded.  "I was told to give this to you," he told her in Selani.  "It's very special."
	"Who told you?" she asked in Selani.
	"Her," he said, tapping the amulet device before placing it in her waiting hand.
	"You're serious," she said suspiciously, her eyes widening a bit.
	"Would I lie to you, shaida?"
	"No, but you may believe something that's not true," she said.  "You mean she talked to you?"
	He nodded.
	"She.  Her."
	"Yes, shaida," he said patiently.  "She did."
	"What did she say?"
	"We'll talk about that later.  She just told me to give this to you, and I'm not about to disobey.  It's a gift from her."
	"You're positive--"
	"Shaida, I'm absolutely positive," he interrupted.
	Keritanima took the shaeram and held it up, inspecting it meticulously.  "It really is lovely," she said in the common tongue.  "And I love silver.  It's prettier than gold.  I won't get in trouble for wearing this, will I?"
	"Does Allia for wearing hers?" Tarrin replied calmly. "They know she wears it."
	"You're right, I guess," she said with a vapid smile.  She pulled the chain wide, then slipped it over her head and settled it under her red Initiate dress.  "Thank you, Tarrin.  I love presents, and this one is very pretty."
	"I'm glad you approve."  She glared at him.  "Your Highness."
	Keritanima snapped their way through the main Tower's corridors, bullying other Initiates and Novices out of her way with sharp comments and ugly stares.  Tarrin walked along with her, silently amused as he watched the Brat Princess in action.  She really did have being a pain down to an artform.  She could irritate almost anyone.  They reached the kitchens, and after fixing plates for themselves, they went back outside to sit on a stone bench at the edge of the gardens to eat.
	Tarrin was fixated by what was going on over on the training grounds of the Knights.  It wasn't that far from the gardens.  One of Keritanima's massive lizard Wikuni guards was on the field, being pressed by four cadets at once.  Using a warhammer with a head almost as big as a log, the huge monster of a Wikuni kept his attackers well in control.  Tarrin noted that the Wikuni swung that warhammer with an exacting precision that spoke of his true skill, a skill that would allow him to strike any of his attackers exactly as hard as he wished.
	"I didn't know you let your guards train with the Knights," Tarrin noted.
	"What they do on their own time isn't my business," she shrugged.
	"He's really giving those cadets a fight," Tarrin chuckled.  "They'll never touch him."
	"Of course they won't," she said with a wicked smile.  "That's Binter.  He's one of the best Marines my daddy has.  That's why he was sent to be my personal bodyguard."
	"What about the other one?"
	"Sisska," she said.  "She's good, but nowhere near Binter."
	"She?  She doesn't look female."
	"Binter and Sisska aren't Wikuni," she told him.
	"They're not?  What are they?"
	"They're Vendari Lizard Men," she replied.  Tarrin had heard stories of the almost legendary Vendari.  They were massive lizard-men who lived on the continent of Sharadar, in the Jungles of Vendar.  They were very advanced and cultured.  The Vendari culture centered around war and combat, but they also had a very, very refined sense of honor and propriety that didn't make them barbarically warlike.  They treated fighting as a field of honor, something to take very seriously.  Because they didn't raid, and their powerful sense of honor prevented them from breaking the treaties they had formed with their neighboring nations, the Vendari often hired out as mercenaries in wars in other parts of the world.  Honor was everything to a Vendari, and he would die rather than have his honor stained.  They also were well known for living by a strict code that prevented them from lying.  A Vendari absolutely would not lie.  Ever.  Because of that, they were often employed as messengers and arbitraters.
	"How did the Wikuni end up with Vendari in their army?"
	"There's a very small colony of Vendari who live in the jungles of Wikuna," she told him.  "Binter and Sisska are Vendari, but their allegiance is to Wikuna.  Almost every single one of them is either in the Army or the Marines, but to keep them centralized, they're allowed to be stationed at home, so their colony isn't disbanded by them having to serve in different places."
	"That's considerate of your father."
	"Keep the Vendari together, and they'll have little Vendari, who grow up into future soldiers," Keritanima said with a smile.  "It's not an act of consideration.  My father never does anything that doesn't help him, either personally or as King."
	"No wonder they look the same," Tarrin said.  "Female Wikuni always have breasts, even reptillian ones.  I guess the same isn't true for Vendari."
	"I can tell the difference, because females smell different.  Sisska was sent so she could enter my bedchamber when I'm not dressed.  Sisska is Binter's wife."
	The cadets were called off, and the massive Mahuut cadet, Azakar, was sent in to challenge Binter.  Azakar was by far the largest man Tarrin had ever seen, but he was almost a full head shorter than the incredibly huge Vendari.  Those two had the rare distinction of being taller than Tarrin, something to which Tarrin was not accustomed.  Tarrin came up to Azakar's chin, but he probably only came up to Binter's chest.
	"This should be interesting," Keritanima said between bites of roasted pork.
	"Azakar's good, but he's not that good," Tarrin said. "Binter will have him down within two minutes."
	Much as Tarrin predicted, the Vendari put Azakar on his back only about a minute into the fight.  Binter's raw size and power made him almost invulnerable to the smaller humans, because he understood how to use that size and power to his utmost advantage.  He had a style like Karn the blacksmith back in Aldreth, he set his feet and dared someone to try to move him.  He moved with deceptive slowness, until he could explode into action and take his opponent off guard.
	Azakar was called off, and one of the Knights was sent on to challenge the Vendari.  "Now it gets interesting," Tarrin said.  "That's Ulgen.  He's one of their better Knights.  Ulgen will give Binter fits, because he's sneaky."
	As they ate, they watched Ulgen and Binter dance around.  The Vendari was forced into a real fight, and Ulgen gave him a serious run for his money.  Ulgen understood the advantages of his adversary, and forced Binter to attack him in ways that eliminated the majority of his advantage.  Ulgen was a wily Knight, one of their better fencers, flicking his heavy broadsword with as much delicacy as a Shacan Musketeer.  He put Binter back on his heels as the Vendari struggled to use the warhammer, not a weapon of finesse, to block a clever and intricate series of light slashes and thrusts.  Being put off balance took most of the threat out of Binter's responses, and it put the pair on even terms.  After about five minutes, however, Binter got the Knight off balance by using his weight advantage, and then used his huge muscled tail to slap Ulgen to the ground.  Just like Tarrin, Binter understood the advantage of his tail, and had learned how to use it as a weapon in a fight.
	"I think that with two Vendari guarding your door, you'll be very safe," Tarrin predicted after watching that.  It took a good fighter to put Ulgen down in five minutes.  Ulgen was no wet-nosed puppy.
	"That's the idea," Keritanima said with a giggle.  "Forget the two hundred Marines garrisonned here.  Binter and Sisska are all I need."
	"Where are they, anyway?  I never see them."
	"They're on the far side of the grounds, in the southern corner.  They train on their own field.  There's a bit of, friction, between the Marines and the Knights.  I think it's a professional desire to see who's better.  So they're kept apart to prevent a general war on the grounds."
	Tarrin chuckled.  "Wikuni Marines squaring off against the Knights of Karas?  That would be a war."
	"I was curious about something," she said.
	"What?"
	"I noticed that all the Knights are branded, just like you and Allia.  What's going on with that?"
	"Oh," Tarrin said with a rueful chuckle.  "Allia branded me so I could be her brother," he began.  "Well, the Knights consider me and Allia to be part of them, and if you know anything about the Knights--"
	"Where All Are One Under Karas," she quoted the Knight parable, the one core ideal which identified the Knights as a group.  "So they saw your brands, and decided that if you two had to wear them, so did they."
	Tarrin nodded.  "Now every Knight who passes training is branded in the Ceremony of Spurs.  They have the holy symbol of Karas on one shoulder, and the standard of the Knights on the other."
	"I'm sorry to say it, but you warrior types are weird," she said in a serious voice that made Tarrin burst out laughing.  "Well, you are," she said in a defensive voice as Tarin reclaimed control of himself.  "I'd never let someone put red-hot steel on my shoulder just to feel like I belonged."
	"You wouldn't do it even if it meant that you attained what you dreamed of attaining for years?" he asked.
	"Well, in that case, I probably would," she acceded.
	"The Knights wear those brands like badges of honor now," Tarrin told her.  "They're all very proud of them.  And, I've been told that a priest of Karas is always on hand to help out, just in case.  I get the funny feeling that they cheat a bit by having the priest deaden the feeling of the cadets just before they're branded."
	"I'd rather be knocked out," Keritanima grunted.
	"You may have to endure it," Tarrin mused.
	"What?  Why?"
	"Because Allia really likes you," he replied.  "I've caught her almost calling you deshaida a few times.  And if you want to visit her clan someday and be accepted, that means you have to be sister to the Selani in all but blood.  That means you accept the brands."
	Those amber eyes became lucid and calculating for a moment, then faded back into the vapidness of the Brat Princess.  "Well, I hope it doesn't hurt," she said.
	"It does, trust me," he said with a shudder.  "The pain is part of the ceremony."
	"You're not making me look forward to this," Keritanima said with cool disdain.  "Besides," she said in Selani, "it's not something the one without honor would do."  There really wasn't a Selani word for brat, because such individuals didn't exist in their society.  They were killed long before a word could be created to describe them.
	"Who knows?" he said.
	"Humans are such weird creatures," Keritanima said seriously.
	"I'd have to agree," Tarrin said with a smile.  "I used to be one of them, you know."
	"I'd never have guessed," she teased.
	They finished their lunches in relative silence, watching the Knights give Binter a bit of exercise.  Tarrin felt a curious closeness to the Wikuni sitting beside him.  She was much like him, a lost soul, someone very out of place with her situation, and he remembered what the Goddess had to say about her.  He'd always liked her before, at least after he met the real Keritanima, but he realized that his feelings for her had deepened.  It wasn't a romantic attraction, it was much what he felt for Allia.  She was becoming close to him, like another sister.  Their circumstances had brought them together, but that togetherness had formed what he hoped was a mutual bond of trust and friendship, and love.
	He put his paw on her shoulder, and she looked up at him.  She was about to say something, but when she looked into his eyes, her own softened considerably.  Just for a moment, the Brat Princess dissolved away, and Keritanima looked up at him and smiled, then brushed her bushy tail up against his back.  "It would honor me greatly if I could call you my deshaida, Keritanima," he said formally in Selani.
	"The honor would be mine, Tarrin," she replied in Selani.  "And it would honor me if I could call you my deshida."
	"I would find great honor in it," he replied sincerely, squeezing her shoulder.
	"Yes, well," Keritanima said, her voice just a bit flustered, "I'm glad you think so."  He could see her soft eyes hardening again, as she regained her composure and returned to her assumed personality.  Keritanima had to stretch it to talk with him civilly as the Brat, but there was no way she could maintain her facade when such honest emotion passed between them.
	"Are you ready for our little gathering?" she asked idly, getting herself under control.
	"I'm always ready," he told her.
	"Good.  It's about time for us to get back.  What are you doing?"
	"Being as inactive as possible," he said with a wicked smile.  "I think I may go find my staff and go challenge your Vendari bodyguard."
	"It's your teeth," she said with an evil smile.
	"They grow back," Tarrin shrugged.
	"Well have fun with those weird warrior things," she said with a teasing look in her eye.  "I'm going to go learn about real power."
	"Enjoy," he told her as she stood up.  "I'll see you tonight?"
	"Oh, I guess so," she drawled.  "You've proven that you're worthy enough to spend time in my august presence."
	"I'll just bask in your aura, Kerri," Tarrin said dryly, standing up.
	"I'll have to go get my aura polished, then," she winked.  "You need a tan."
	"You're so kind to me."
	She laughed, then put her hands on her shoulders, rose up on her toes, and gave him a short lick to the cheek.
	"Isn't this a bit out of character?" Tarrin asked quietly.
	"Of course not," she said flippantly.  "The Brat really likes you.  It's why she tolerates your impertinence.  Besides, she's amused by your wicked ways.  You're always entertaining."
	"Witch," Tarrin grinned.
	"Count on it," she said with bright eyes, then she stepped away.  "I'll see you tonight, Tarrin," she said.  "Have fun.  Oh, and thanks for the present.  We'll talk about it tonight."
	"I'll try, and you're welcome," he told her, then he watched her saunter away.
	He chuckled again.  Keritanima was quite a woman.
	I told you so, the Goddess' voice echoed in the depths of his mind, her tone amused and teasing, and then it was gone just as quickly as it came to him.
	"You stay out of this," he said aloud, in a playful banter.  But there was no response.
	Tarrin glanced at Binter again.  Oh, yes, he'd like a match against that monster of a Vendari.  He had the feeling that he may need some experience fighting larger opponents.  The Gods only knew what would jump out of the wall to attack him next.
	Tracking down his staff wasn't easy.  They'd taken it from the battleground, and he had to ask around for almost an hour until he found out who had taken it.  It ended up in the laboratory of a katzh-dashi, a small, plump little man with a balding pate and a rotund face.  He smelled heavily of spices and garlic, and the lingering traces of the smells of many, many types of plants were trapped in his brown robe.  His laboratory was in the Northeast Tower, a small area that was dominated by a row of huge g