ou walking around topless doesn't bother Tarrin, but it'll give the other Initiates a fit.  Brel would probably have a heart attack on the spot."
	"Perhaps I should do that, if only to make the man shut up," Allia said sourly.  "I'm growing tired of his moralistic ravings.  I don't see why he can't understand that Tarrin and I are brother and sister, and not lovers."
	"Maybe he has those kinds of thoughts about his own sister," Keritanima said with a wicked little smile.
	"That's a very sickening thought," Allia grunted.  "Humans can be so depraved."
	"True, but they're interesting.  I have to go.  See you two in my room after classes."
	"We'll be there," Tarrin replied.
	"Hmm, maybe I should go knock on Brel's door bare to the world," Allia said with an evil look in her eyes.  "That man has been on me for days about our living arrangements.  He accuses me of being a harlot and a tramp, though he never comes out and says it directly, and it's obvious he thinks that I'm seducing you on a nightly basis.  Perhaps some revenge is in order."
	Tarrin laughed.  "I'm sure he'd appreciate it, sister," he told her with a broad grin.
	Allia meaningly put her hands on the waist of her trousers, and that sent Tarrin into gales of laughter.  It only intensified when she pulled them down, exposing her every intimate charm to him, and then stepped out of them.  She stood there wearing nothing but her boots, and that seemed to be even more amusing to him for some reason.
	"Excuse me for a moment, my brother," she said with a flat voice, though her eyes were dancing with delight.  "I have some vengeance to exact."
	"Have fun," he managed to say, as she opened the door, and then stepped out into the hallway wearing nothing but a pair of boots, her long silver hair, and a vicious grin.
	"Oh, I will," she promised, closing the door.
	Allia was a treasure.  He had no idea how he managed to live so long without her in his life.
	Tarrin started counting.  By the time he reached thirty, there was a strangled bellow from further down the hall, with Brel, Master of Initiates, telling Allia hysterically to go back to her room and put some clothes on!  About two minutes later, she calmly stepped back in through his door, and the look on her face was absolutely evil.  It only made Tarrin fall off the bed in bouts of helpless laughter.
	"That was definitely worth the effort," she said idly to herself.  "The look on his face will keep me smiling for a month."  She slipped off her boots, righted her pant legs from where they had been pulled inside out when she took them off, and then stepped back into her trousers.
	Perhaps it was the ultimate in bad luck that an enraged Brel opened Tarrin's door forcefully just as Allia bent down to pull her pants up, and she had her back to the door.  He took one look at the Selani's shapely backside, her posture leaving absolutely nothing to his imagination, and then he simply fainted dead away at the threshold.
	Tarrin was basicly a loss at that point.  It took him almost twenty minutes to recover control of himself, and Brel lay there the entire time, as other Inititates crowded around him around Tarrin's door.  Allia dressed herself with a calm certainty that told everyone she felt absolutely no shame in what she had done, and stood by the door and waited for Brel to wake up.  Her icy blue eyes kept the other Initiates from questioning her, and most simply meandered off to spread wild rumor and stories of the event to the others.
	After recovering control of himself, Tarrin stood up and gave Allia a grin, patting her on the shoulder just as Brel began to stir.  His eyes looked up at the pair blearily, then raw horror crept into them.
	"Never question my morals again, Brel," Allia told him coldly.  "Else what I do next makes this look innocent by example."
	The shrivelled old crotchety Sorcerer blanched at the cold-eyed Selani, his wrinkled face turning pale, then scrabbled to his feet and rushed away hurriedly.
	"You're an evil woman, deshaida," Tarrin laughed.  "And I love you for it."
	"I love you too, deshida," she said with a wicked little smile.
	Darvon's scent touched Tarrin's nose just as the man came into view at the door, with the massive Azakar trailing behind him.  "I take it you were having fun with Master Brel?" the aged Knight asked idly.
	"He could not accept that Tarrin is not my lover," Allia said bluntly.  "I decided that it was time for him to understand a few things."
	Darvon took one look at the hot-eyed Selani, and he chuckled.  "I'm sorry I missed it.  It must have been good."
	Just thinking about it made Tarrin laugh again.  "It was priceless, my Lord General," Tarrin assured him.  "I always knew my sister is an evil woman.  She proved it."
	Allia only gave Darvon a wicked smile, which made him laugh.  "I never doubted it," he said.
	"What brings you into the Inititate's quarters, my Lord General?" Allia asked.
	"Business, my sister, business," he said.  "I had a talk with the Keeper yesterday, Tarrin.  Some changes were made."
	"Really?"
	"She agreed to allow you off the grounds, but only if you give her a day's advance warning," he told him.  "But she refused to allow you to go alone.  So if you leave the grounds, you have to go with Azakar here to accompany you, and at least one Sorcerer.  You may be a Knight, but even you have to admit that someone is out to get you.  It isn't Knightly to refuse the help of the order, and we look after our own.  So Azakar here has been assigned to accompany you and act as your bodyguard, and you get to choose the Sorcerer you want to go with you.  You have to admit, this is much better than the complement of katzh-dashi that the Keeper was demanding on.  I had to make some ugly threats to bring the Keeper down to this."
	"Lord Tarrin," Azakar said with a curt bow.  Azakar was still a cadet, where Tarrin was a vested Knight.  That changed things between them, for Tarrin had always liked the massive young man, and Azakar had always treated him with courtesy.
	"I guess I can accept that, my Lord General," Tarrin said.
	"Good.  You've been granted permission to go see your parents right now, but you have to be back by lunch.  They want to return to your education.  Dolanna is waiting for you at the gate.  She goes with you too, and Faalken's going to accompany her."
	So they had been willing to compromise.  That told Tarrin a great deal.  They wouldn't suffer outright defiance from any other Initiate.
	Tarrin did indeed mean something to the Council.  This was complete proof for his long-standing suspicion.
	"Then can we go now?  I guess I don't have that much time to see my father, so I can't waste any standing here."
	"We just have one stop to make, Tarrin," Darvon told him.  "At the Academy.  Azakar here needs some new spurs."
	Azakar gave Darvon a stunned look.
	"Did you think that we'd let a cadet have a job as important as accompanying a Sorcerer, Azakar?" Darvon asked with a grin.  "You'll be going out there with the honor of the Knights to uphold.  It's better for everyone if it's your honor too, now isn't it?"
	"Welcome, my brother," Allia told the huge Mahuut with a gentle smile.  "It is time for my class.  Until later, Darvon, deshida," she said, giving Tarrin a quick kiss on the cheek, then patting Azakar's shoulder as she passed by.
	"Well don't stand there looking like a fool, cadet!" Darvon barked at Azakar.  "Let's move!"

	Azakar looked almost about to explode with pride.
	He was wearing a surcoat over his mail shirt and a pair of silver spurs that denoted him as a Knight, and he looked like he was about to faint.  Tarrin mused at it with a chuckle as they approached the gate leading out, where Dolanna and the cherubic Faalken stood waiting for them.  The air was crisp and noticably cool, but the bright sunshine belied the chill in the air.  The day was so crisp and clear that the individual colored lines of the Skybands were visible, which usually was only possible at night.  They were all the same dull white, but the faint lines that separated the colors were just barely visible, if one studied them intently enough.  Such a crystal-clear day was unusual.
	Tarrin greeted Dolanna with a warm smile and taking her small hands, and Faalken was already digging at the new Knight, teasing him about his newfound status.  They were surrounded by Tower guards, and people filed in and out of the grounds through the front gate.  Standing by the front gate were the Keeper, Koran Dar, Amelyn, and the willowy blond Council member whose name Tarrin didn't know.  Even from there, he could smell them, and they were all very anxious.  It permeated their scents.  They were afraid he'd go through that gate and then never come back, he was certain of it.
	The idea had crossed his mind a few times, but there was no telling what would happen to Allia and Keritanima if he did fly the coop.  They would all escape, but it would be a time of their choosing, and when the Tower had the least chance of getting them back.
	"Well, dear one, are you ready?" Dolanna asked.
	"I'm ready," he said.  "I'm surprised they're even bothering to send you three with me."
	"Why is that?"
	Tarrin only smiled at her in return.
	"Oh dear," she murmured.  "Just be careful, my young one."
	"Always, Dolanna.  Always."
	The four approached the Council members, who wordlessly linked into a circle.  Tarrin could feel the connection join among them, as if each reached out and joined invisible hands with the others.  He wasn't quite sure what was going to happen next, but Dolanna seemed calm and confident, and she payed the Council little mind as she smoothed her blue silk dress and wool cloak absently.
	Then, the hands of the four Council members started to glow in a ghostly white light.  The radiance that marked the use of High Sorcery.  A hole silently opened in the empty air in front of them.  It was surrounded by nothing, but the borders of that hole were limned in a pulsating bluish energy.  Tarrin could see that they had somehow punched a hole in the Ward, a hole that would allow him to pass through it.  He couldn't see what weave they had used to perform such an act, but it obviously involved all seven Spheres.  High Sorcery always involved all seven Spheres.
	"Be back by the tolling of the noon bell," the Keeper said in a tight voice, staring at Tarrin intently.  "Don't make us come look for you.  It won't be pleasant."
	"Like you could find me," Tarrin snorted as he stepped through the penetrated Ward.  He waited until Dolanna, Faalken, and Azakar were with him, and they stepped into the streets of Suld.
	It was the first time he'd ever been in the city during the daytime.  The streets were filled with people, dressed in all manner of clothing but sharing a common theme of warmth against the chill of the late autumn day.  Sulasian doublets and breeches and long-hemmed dresses dominated the streets, but the occasional woolen mantle of an Arkisian, or the waistcoats and unusual appearances of the Wikuni were also rather common.  Even the ruffled shirts and coats and tight-fitting pants called hose favored by the Shacans.  Several fur-clad Ungardt were strolling through an intersection, giving way to a horse-drawn open carriage that was occupied by a pretty middle-aged woman wrapped in an expensive velvet-lined cloak.  A Torian woman, whose multitude of tiny braids clearly marked her city of birth, seemed to be haggling with a rough-faced Dal who wore the slate gray pants and brown cloak that were common among them.  Suld was a city of trade, the largest city on the western coast, and from the city, on the well-maintained roads that criss-crossed the kingdom, goods travelled to Daltochan and northern Shac, even into southern Draconia and Tykarthia.  Sulasia was famous for its craftsmen, and merchants from all over the world came to Suld to buy what were considered to be the best durable goods in the world.  A Sulasian wagon would last ten years longer than one built by other hands, and there was a heavy demand for Sulasian four-banded barrels, famous for their durability.  Daltochan was famous for metalwork and weapons, but Sulasia was famous for the things that modern man used in his daily life.
	It gave Suld a multinational aire that Tarrin couldn't miss.  Suld was the capital of Sulasia, seat of the Lion Throne, but the city looked more like a crossroads of the world.  In Suld, Tarrin's obvious exotic appearance didn't attract as much attention as he thought it might.  Some people gave him second looks, but by and large, he was left alone.  But then again, the hulking ten span tall menace travelling beside him may have alot to do with that.
	The only think Tarrin didn't like about it was the smell.  He'd grown used to that foul miasma since being on the grounds, since it carried over into the grassy, natural setting of the Tower.  Out in the city, with the humans all bustling about, it intensified that pungent amalgamation of waste, sweat, anxiety, animals, weathered stone, wood, and fire.  There would be no way he could backtrack even his own scent in that unpleasant riot of smells.
	After they were about ten blocks from the Tower gate, well out of sight from the katzh-dashi, Tarrin stopped by a large tavern, whose weathered sign showed a mug resting on the skull of a Troll.  Trollskull Tavern, it was called.  It wasn't that far from Tomas' house, and it would be a good place for them to wait for him.
	"This is as far as you go," Tarrin told Dolanna and the others.  "Just wait here for me.  I'll be back in a couple of hours."
	"I have to accompany you, Tarrin," Azakar objected.  "It's my duty."
	"It's also your duty as my brother Knight to accede to my wishes," he told him calmly. "I'm not in any danger, Zak.  Trust me.  But I'm not leading the eyes following us back to my parents.  I had them hide for a reason."
	"Just let him go, Zak," Faalken told him calmly. "Tarrin can take care of himself, and he could lose us so easily that at least we look dignified this way."
	Tarrin chuckled.  "True enough," he agreed in a modest voice.  "I'll be back soon.  Just have a drink and some breakfast, and I'll come get you when I'm ready."
	"Alright, just be careful, dear one," Dolanna said, patting him on the arm.
	He left them there, the quickly and easily lost all his followers by stepping into an alley, shifting into his cat form, and then squirming through a hole in a wall into a building that turned out to be a warehouse, sneaking through, and then slowly making his way to the house.  It wasn't easy in cat form, because he had to cross alot of human and horse traffic, and more than a few people actively tried to kick him when he got close to them.  But he reached the back door without a whole lot of trouble, shifted back into his humanoid form, and found it to be unlocked.
	Nanna was busily chopping onions as Deris tended a pot sitting on the metal stove.  The wood stoves were from Wikuna, and they were all the rage with anyone who could afford them, because they made cooking so much easier.
	"I must say, you two are alert," Tarrin said, making both of them jump.  Nanna whirled around with her chopping knife held like a sword, then she took one look at him and laughed.
	"Don't do that to an old woman!" she threatened, putting the knife down.  Then she laughed.  "Is Allia with you?"
	"Not today," he replied, stepping forward and taking Nanna's hand.
	"So this is Tarrin.  I'm sorry I was too tired to stay up the other night," Deris said with a grin.
	"Deris," Tarrin greeted calmly.
	"Are you playing hookey again?"
	"Yes and no," he smiled.  "Are my parents here?  I need to talk to them."
	Eron is down in the cellar, teaching Janine how to brew his brandy.  Your mother is in the parlor with some relative of hers."
	"Relative?  Mother--"  Tarrin suddenly laughed, then left Nanna standing there as he rushed to the parlor.
	Elke was sitting on the sofa, and a large, older man with steel gray hair and a powerful frame sat across from her.  He had a patch over his right eye, with a wicked scar running up from his jaw, over his cheek, and under that patch.  His features were rugged, almost brutish, and his body looked as intimidating as his face appeared.  A beak of a nose was a bit red, and his single eye was just a bit bloodshot.
	Anrak Whiteaxe, clan chief of the Whiteaxe clan, had a bit of a cold.  That, or he was hung over.  But he wasn't stupid enough to come into his daughter's presence after drinking.
	"Grandfather!" Tarrin said in surprise, making both of them look at him.
	"Tarrin, lad," he said in a voice roughened by a lifetime at sea, standing up.  "Ye're as Elke described ye.  I think ye look good that way."
	Tarrin laughed, then rushed over and crushed his grandfather in a fierce hug.  "When did you get in?  Mother said you'd been visiting.  How did you know to come here?"
	"She saw my ship in the harbor," he replied, then he pushed him away enough to sneeze.
	"I told you to do something about that, father," Elke told him.
	"I will I will," he snapped.  "Ye're lookin' healthy, me boy.  Taller.  And with fur."
	Tarrin chuckled.  "Well, that wasn't my choice, believe me," he said.
	"Elke told me all about it," he said.  "I been lookin' fer that Were-cat woman to give her a piece of my mind, but she's not showin' up in ports.  She should save herself the trouble and come find me, so I can get her overwith."
	Tarrin laughed.  "Leave her alone, grandfather," he warned.  "She's not worth your trouble, and I've more or less forgiven her for what happened.  It wasn't entirely her fault."
	"Me?  Give up a grudge?  I ain't that old, lad."
	Tarrin laughed.  He missed Anrak.  The burly old sailor was quite a character.  "How's the clan?"
	"Doin' fine, my lad, doin' fine.  Yer uncle Jarl is doing the paperwork for me while I keep us bringing in the coin.  It's a good situation for both of us."
	"I keep telling you that you're getting too old for wandering, father," Elke said sourly.  "You should spend at least every other trip at home, so you have a chance to recover from your journeys.  It's not healthy for you to be running all the time."
	"I'll stop wanderin' when I'm dead," Anrak grunted.  "And only cause dead men can't walk."
	"Well, you'll stop wandering until I get rid of that chill," she said in a steely voice.  "You can't go out on the winter seas with a cold.  It'll go into your lungs, and they'll be throwing your carcass over the rail within a ride."
	"I ain't the only one sick, so we're wintering here," he replied.  "I ain't gonna risk my men to the chills, and there's already ice out on the seas.  It's too dangerous to sail north."
	"Already?  It's not even winter yet!" Elke said in surprise.
	"It's been a warm summer up north, hon," Anrak told her.  "The ice flows have been breaking up, and the summer current's been haulin' them out of the Bay of Ice.  There's been ice in the water all summer, but now that it's colder up north, it ain't breakin' up and meltin' like it was in the summer."
	"Well, at least you'll be wintering where mother can keep an eye on you," Tarrin chuckled.
	"Only cause my men can't sail," Anrak said with an evil grin at his daughter.  "I'd rather spend my winter in Dayis, where it's warm all winter, and the ladies are much more friendly."
	"Mother would kill you," Elke warned.
	"Yer mother can't catch me," Anrak grinned.
	"I can fix that."
	"Ye wouldn't!"
	"Try me."
	Anrak gave Elke a sour look.  "Ye're ruinin' my golden years," he accused.
	"I'm making sure you live to enjoy them," she replied bluntly.  "Mother would split your skull with a frying pan if she knew you were cheating on her."
	"I ain't cheatin' on yer mother, Elke.  I ain't that stupid."
	"I thought not," she said with a slight smile.
	"What brings you back here so soon, Tarrin?" Elke asked.
	"I demanded to be let out--legally--and see you," he said.  "It was generally just misdirection, because I can get out any time I want, but at least now I don't have to sneak over to see you.  My escort is waiting at a tavern while I visit," he chuckled.  "At least they were smart enough not try to follow me."
	"Escort?"
	"I can't leave without a Knight and a Sorcerer accompanying me," he told her.  "Lucky for me they gave me a Knight that just got his spurs, someone I can effectively bully.  And I get to choose the Sorcerer that comes, so I can always get someone that I can convince to let me go on alone.  That reminds me.  Have you and father given any thought as to where you're going to live?  You can't stay here forever."
	"Actually, we have," Elke said.  "I haven't been home in years, and Jenna should meet the clan.  We were considering travelling with father back to Dusgaard.  We could hug the coast to avoid the ice, and be back in Dusgaard before the harbor freezes.  After spending a year up there, we were going to go back to Aldreth."
	"Ye never said nothin' about that to me," Anrak growled.
	"That's because you'd just argue," Elke told her father with a false smile.
	"That may be the best thing," Tarrin said.  "We have to face facts.  Because of me, you're in danger here.  It may be best if you get some distance from me."
	"Danger?  From what?" Anrak demanded.  Elke calmly related the story of the attack by the Doomwalker, and the many attempts on Tarrin.  "By the ice, daughter, why didn't ye say so?  We'll have ye home safe by New Year's Day."
	"The only reason we're even considering it is because Jenna has proven she can control her gift," Elke said.  "She can wait a year or two before going back to formally training with the Sorcerers."
	"There's always room for one or two more, grandson," Anrak told Tarrin seriously.  "If ye want protection, the Whiteaxe Clan always looks after its own."
	"I appreciate that, Grandfather, but the Tower has a long arm," Tarrin replied. "I've already got somewhere much safer in mind, somewhere even the katzh-dashi won't go to unless invited."
	"Allia's clan?" Elke asked.
	Tarrin nodded.  "Not even the katzh-dashi are stupid enough to come after us if we have the protection of the Selani," he told her.  "They'd come over the Sandshield and wipe Sulasia off the map."
	"No doubt," Anrak chuckled evilly.
	"But we can't leave yet.  Not until we have a full idea of what's going on."
	"Any luck so far?"
	Tarrin shook his head.  "Keritanima's run into opposition.  Someone keeps killing her informants."
	"That's a Wikuni name," Anrak deduced.  "By the sound of it, she's someone in a very high station.  Nobility."
	Tarrin nodded.  "She's in this with us," he replied.  "That reminds me.  We might come visit in the middle of the night, or we might not.  Either way, pretend that we were never here."
	Elke gave Tarrin a slow grin.  "That sounds underhanded."
	"We do have some plans along those lines, yes," he agreed with an urbane smile.
	"I'll have Deris leave the back door unlocked," Elke said.
	"No, just have him not bar the door.  Just use the lock.  Kerri says there's no lock made that she can't pick.  We'll see if she's just bragging tonight."
	"The High Princess of the Wikuni can pick locks?" Elke asked in surprise.
	"Mother, Kerri is full of surprises," Tarrin chuckled.  "And unfortunately, I have to cut this short.  It took me longer to get here than I planned, and I have to be back at the Tower by the noon bell."
	"This is Keritanima-Chan Eram ye're talkin' about, ain't it?" Anrak asked suddenly.  "I heard that she has the brain of a sand shrew."
	"She has the brain of a genius, Grandfather," Tarrin said with a laugh.  "She just pretends to be an idiot.  And that's privilged information," he said sternly.  "If I find out you've been blabbing, I'll take out your other eye.  Do you understand me?"
	"He's gotten aggressive, daughter," Anrak noted to Elke.
	"It suits him," Elke said with a shrug.  "And it is important you keep it quiet, father.  Their safety depends on Keritanima's little game.  If you get my son in danger, I'll gut you like a pig and drag you around by your entrails.  Do we understand one another?"
	"As sweet as ever, eh daughter?" Anrak said with a rueful, gravelly chuckle.
	"Just making sure you understand the consequences," she warned.
	"In this family, there are always consequences," Anrak said.

	Tarrin returned to Dolanna and the others half an hour before the noon bell, and they had him back on the grounds by the determined time.  After a quick lunch in the kitchens, Tarrin was summoned to the Chambers of Seven, which was the council chamber used by the Council.  Tarrin was not looking forward to it.  Just as he suspsected, the Council itself was going to try to correct his problem in using Sorcery, and that made him very nervous.  Tarrin didn't trust the Council.  He had some friendly feelings towards Koran Dar, because the man seemed calm, wise, and gentle, but he was only one of the seven.  Of the others, he only had had contact with Amelyn and Ahiriya, and neither of those meetings had been entirely friendly.  He didn't even know the names of all seven.
	And now he was going to be forced to put his life in their hands.  That didn't set well with him, and by the time he reached the ornate, bronze gilded door that was the entry to the Chambers of Seven, his tail was lashing back and forth like a farmer reaping wheat with a scythe.
	For the ruling body of the katzh-dashi, they kept themselves in a humble state.  The room wasn't that large, and it was totally devoid of all decoration.  The gray stone walls were illuminated by a large glowglobe hovering in midair over a circular table made of white stone.  Inlaid on the surface of that round table was a shaeram device, in full color, and around that table stood seven simple padded chairs.  Where each triangle that represented a Sphere pointed away, a Council member sat, and Tarrin realized immediately that the Seat of each Sphere sat with their own color pointing towards them.  The Keeper, who represented no Sphere, sat in a void between two spheres, and she also faced the door.  Seven faces turned to look at him, and Tarrin very nearly turned around and left.  They were hard faces, all of them younger than he would have imagined for a ruling body of a world power, a couple of them outright hostile, and their scents were as hard as their expressions, though they were tinged with fear.   They were his enemies, he knew that at that moment.  They had always been.
	"Come in," the Keeper ordered.  "We have much to do."
	"What are we going to do?" Tarrin asked, staying by the door.
	"You will address the Keeper in a term of respect!" Amelyn snapped at him suddenly.
	"Amelyn," the Keeper said sternly.  "We're going to try to help you," she told him.  "We have to understand what's happening to you when you try to touch the Weave, and then we'll try to help you work around the problem."
	"What do I have to do?" he asked warily.
	"Just come in, and have a seat on the table," the Keeper said.  "Right in the middle."
	Approaching them, he stepped up onto the table, but as soon as he looked down at the shaeram, memories of the fight with the Wraith flooded into him.  He almost couldn't bring himself to step across that green circle, and it made him extremely nervous and unsettled to seat himself cross-legged atop the concave star that represented the Goddess.  He wrapped his tail around his body and rested it in his lap.
	"Very good.  Now, reach out and touch the Weave.  If you feel yourself losing control, let it go, wait a few minutes, and then touch it again."
	Silently, Tarrin assensed the room.  It was in very close proximity to the Heart, and the air was almost saturated with very large strands that carried alot of magical energy.  There was alot of power in the room.  Touching the weave was almost instinctual for him, and he achieved communion with the Weave as easily as others may pick up a basket.  He felt that sudden heat approach, the avalanche of raw power that always sought him out when he touched the Weave, and he broke away before it had a chance to find him.
	"That was too soon, Tarrin," the Keeper's voice called to him.  He looked down at her, and could see her form shimmering in a curious way that seemed to tell him that she was touching the Weave.  "We have to see what happens, and you broke contact too soon."
	"I'm not going to let that happen, Keeper," he said adamantly.
	"We're here to cut you off, Tarrin," she soothed.  "We won't let it get away from you.  Just touch the Weave again, and this time let whatever happens happen."
	"That's easy for you to say," he snorted under his breath, then he reached out and touched the Weave again.  Almost immediately, the onslaught of magical power was upon him, and he gasped reflexively as it tried to fill him with the full power of the Weave.  It overwhelmed his ability to let go of the Weave instantly, creating a connection so powerful that just letting go wouldn't be enough.
	He felt something try to fall between him and the Weave, an invisible something with no substance, yet had a palpable effect on the magic trying to flood into him, but it was rebuffed forcibly when it tried to choke off the flow of power into him.  In half a heartbeat, his body was saturated with power, energy that built and built and built and had nowhere to go.  He felt another attempt to limit that influx of magical energy, but it was again slapped away by the raw magnitude of the energy it was trying to stop.
	In sudden desperation, he opened himself to the Weave more fully, allowing the energy to flow through him rather than build within him.  That helped, but not by a great amount.  The power still sought to build inside him, but it did slow it down.  That gave him the time he needed to recover his wits, to remember how to sever himself from the Weave, and he slammed the door in the face of that power.  The backlash put spots behind his eyes and a sudden pounding in his head, a shockwave of intense pain through his body, and it even made the seven Sorcerers studying him reel back in their seats as if struck by a physical blow.
	"Amazing," he heard Koran Dar murmur.
	Tarrin sagged a bit, paws to his head as the pounding eased.  The pain faded quickly, but it left an imprint of itself in his mind.  He opened his eyes just in time to see a ghostly white radiance, wispy like smoke, fade from around his paws.
	It had been the first time he'd let it go that far, foolishly trusting that the Council could control him, an