ting.  I will be very safe."
	"I will send Faalken to you, Dolanna," Allia said decisively.  "Do not leave until he gets here."
	"I, I thank you," she smiled.  "I would feel much better with my old friend standing vigil for me.  I no longer feel safe walking the halls of the Tower."
	"You are my brother's friend, and that makes you mine as well," Allia told her with a gentle pat on the arm.  "You stay here, and Faalken will come to you.  You do not have to face such a burden alone."
	The relief in her smile, in her eyes, spoke volumes.  "Go now, Allia," she said.  "It will take the Knights time to mobilize.  If Tarrin is still in the city, or even if he is not, then they will find him."

	The sudden arrival of two hundred fully armed, highly disciplined Wikuni Marines at the fringes of the Knights' training field at first caused a bit of a panic among the Knights supervising the cadets.  They had no idea why they were there, for the Marines had direct orders to stay away from the Knights.  But on the other hand, the famous discipline of their military organization also told the supervising Knights that if all of them showed up like that, then they were ordered to do it.
	But before Darvon arrived on the field and a Knight could go over to the Marine Colonel in charge of the detachment and find out what was going on, Allia was seen running at full speed towards the field.  Allia was Selani, and few alive could rival her foot speed.  Her silver hair flying out behind her, she skidded onto the field and almost bowled over Ulger, who stood fast and helped catch her from her wild sprint.  "Allia, what is the blazes is--"
	"Not now!" she said in a strangled tone.  "Faalken, go to Dolanna, right now!" she barked in a hysterical tone.  "She needs you!"
	"Allia, what--"
	"Right now!" she screamed.  "Ulger, I must see Darvon!  Tarrin's life depends on it!"
	"Tarrin?  Allia, slow down," he said in a reasonable tone.  "What's going on?"
	"Tarrin has been kidnapped!" she said in a strangled tone.  "Keritanima is out trying to find him now, and she wants us to be ready in force in case we have to fight to reclaim him!"  She motioned at the Wikuni quickly assembling at the edges of the field.  "She's called out her Marines, and she wants the Knights to stand ready as well!"
	"So that's why they're here," he said.  "Runner, summon Darvon!" Ulger barked harshly to a cadet standing at the edge of the field.  "I don't care if you have to drag him out of the privy, but get him here now!"
	"Yes, sir!" the cadet said with a salute, then turned and ran back towards the barracks.
	"Could the commander of the Royal Marines come forward?" Ulger called to the assembling Marines, as Faalken rushed off towards the main Tower.
	The Wikuni that approached was an eight span tall monster of a leopard Wikuni wearing a gold braided rope that attached to the epaulet of his right shoulder and looped under his arm.  He was huge, with a large chunk of his right ear missing and a wicked scar puckering the right side of his muzzle.  Large amber eyes blazed down at Ulger as he approached, but the man's high discipline caused him to salute Ulger sharply.  "Colonel Manx, commander of the third Special Division of the Royal Marines," he greeted.
	Ulger saluted as well.  "I'm Ulger," he said.  "Your Princess ordered you out here?"
	He nodded.  "The command was conveyed by her maid, but we know it to be a lawful command.  She gave us the password."
	"Where is she now, Allia?"
	"She's in the city, tracking Tarrin with her magic," she replied.  "She said she would come back here when she found him."
	"Hmm," he said. "You're sure that Tarrin was kidnapped?"
	"I cannot guarantee it, but from what I have learned so far, it is a very good bet," she replied.  "A magical device that can control Were-kin was stolen from the Tower vaults two days ago, and Dolanna suspects that it was used to spirit Tarrin off the grounds.  You know as well as I that there is no way anyone could physically force him to leave."
	Darvon approached, and he was plainly not happy.  His armor looked a bit dishevelled, and his hair was still damp.  "Could this have waited for me to finish dressing, Ulger?" he snapped.
	"Lord General, we have a problem," Ulger said.  "Tarrin is missing, and Allia thinks that he was taken against his will."
	"Oh my," Darvon grunted.  "You have proof?"
	"Not solid, but I give you my word as a Selani and as a Knight that I am not willingly lying to you, Darvon," she said pleadingly.  "Tarrin would never just leave without telling me.  He is my brother!"
	"You do have a point," he agreed.  "You two seem to share the same brain.  He wouldn't leave without telling you."
	"Keritanima is looking for him now, using magic," she continued.  "She had her Marines mobilize in case we must use force to recover him.  She hoped that the Knights would assist."
	"Assist?  Your Marines had best save us some room, Wikuni," Darvon growled.  "Tarrin is one of us, and we are all One Under Karas.  Ulger!"
	"Yes, Lord General?"
	"I want every Knight and cadet who can walk assembled on the field in full battle dress in ten minutes!"
	"Yes, Lord General!" Ulger said with a grin and a salute.  "Sound the alert!" he shouted, rushing away from the Lord General and waving his arms.  "We are on alert!"
	"If he was taken, then we'll be ready to go get him," Darvon said in a growl.  "No doubt the fighting last night in the Tower has something to do with all this," he added.  "I knew I should have sent my Knights in there to stop it."
	"I had the same feeling, Lord General," the Wikuni Colonel agreed.  "But my orders were to remain in the barracks."
	"Hindsight is always perfect," he grunted.  "Since we may be working together, we'd best get to know each other.  I'm Darvon."
	"I am Cololnel Manx," he replied.  "You obviously hold rank over me, my Lord General.  I accede to your flag, so long as your orders don't counter our existing orders."
	"I appreciate that, Colonel," Darvon said gracefully.  "We don't need any confusion on a battlefield.  Let's hope that it doesn't come to that."
	"The best fight is the one avoided," Manx agreed.  "But if we do fight, it will be a good chance to measure ourselves against your reputation."
	"Don't sell yourselves short," Darvon told him.  "The reputation of the Royal Marines is towering, and no doubt well deserved."
	"You are most kind, my Lord General," Manx said with a slight smile.
	"Allia, go find yourself some good swords in the armory," Darvon told her.  "I know you won't stand aside and watch."
	"No," she said bluntly.
	It was chaos in the compound of the Knights, and by the time Allia had a good pair of swords and a belt for them, most of the Knights had organized into sharp lines, and warhorses were hurriedly being lined up near the stables, in full harness.  Miranda and Sisska were on the field as Allia returned to Darvon's side, and the maid was already starting to answer questions of the Colonel.  "I can only tell you what I was told, Colonel," she told him calmly.  "That we were to wait here for her Highness to return with news."
	"She should not be out there alone," Manx said hotly.
	"She has Binter with her, Colonel," Miranda said with a steady expression.  It wasn't easy to ruffle Miranda.  "If Binter can't protect her, then she doesn't have much need for the rest of you."
	Manx glanced at the massive Sisska, standing near to Miranda and ready to attack if she was threatened, and he nodded slowly.  "We need to organize," he said.  "The Marines use tactics that the Knights probably do not.  Let's iron out our arrangements now, before we have to do this in a combat situation."
	"I agree," Darvon said emphatically.  "Knights rely on their armor," he said.  "We prefer to smash through the center of an enemy line, then break up the opposition and mop them up."
	"We also prefer a direct assault, but across the entire line," Manx said.  "We push them back in one push, driving them into their reserves, and we move quickly to keep them off guard.  In this case, the Marines can flank the Knights at the tail end of a wedge, and when the line buckles around the Knights, the Marines can prevent them from enveloping your rear, and we can drive in and hold them in a state of disorganization while the Knights continue around and split up, and attack from the rear."
	"This only works if you're fighting on a battlefield, gentleman," Miranda told him.  "You happen to be in the middle of a large city.  You won't have that kind of room."
	"True, but it's our elemental style," Darvon said.  "Even if we attack only ten Knights to ten opponents, we use the same basic tactics."
	"Are your men trained for close quarters combat?" Manx asked.
	Darvon nodded.  "Allia's really brought us up to speed on close fighting.  We can handle ourselves."
	"The Marines train specifically for house to house combat and close quarters," he said.  "It may be best if we have to attack a building if you let us take the lead."
	"I won't argue about that, but having a squad of Knights there to smash through doors and use their armor to shield your less armored men may be useful."
	"Yes, no doubt," he agreed.
	They continued to debate the exact actions of their units for a quite a while, covering several different scenarios, from building combat to chasing down an armed column trying to spirit Tarrin out of Suld.  But Miranda cut them short and pointed, saying "now we'll know exactly how to set up."  Keritanima was running towards them with Binter just behind, and she was out of breath by the time she arrived.  The Wikuni bowed respectfully, and the Knights did the same when the realized who it was.
	"He's...in the Cathedral...," she panted.  "He's...being held....underneath it."
	"The Cathedral of Karas?" Darvon said in surprise.  "Are you sure, your Highness?"
	"Positive," she panted.
	"I never thought I'd have to attack my own church before," Darvon grunted.  "But if you say he's there, then he's there.  We'll just have to go get him."
	"They must...have dug out passages...not on the plans I had of it," she said, recovering her breath.  "But I don't understand why they took him.  It doesn't make sense."
	"It makes this a siege, Lord General," Manx said.  "That means I'll have the better chance."
	"The Cathedral is huge, Colonel Manx, and the Priests there will no doubt use their magic to defend it.  I think we should start by trying to negotiate.  After we surround the building, of course.  The priests of Karas are one of the arms of our own faith.  I can't see any reason why they would kidnap Tarrin, but maybe I can convince them to let him go without combat.  Once I make it plain that the Knights will assault the Cathedral if they don't, they may change their minds."
	"Miranda, go fetch the plans I have," Keritanima said to her maid.  "We can use them."
	"At once, Highness," Miranda said, scurrying off with Sisska behind her.
	"You have plans of the Cathdreal, Highness?" Manx asked curiously.
	"I needed them.  Let's not go into that right now," she said decisively.  "We need some katzh-dashi, gentleman.  If we have to attack, we'll need Sorcerers to disrupt the priests' magic.  Trying to attack the cathedral without magical assistance would be suicide.  Did you talk to the Council, Allia?"
	"No, but I did talk to Dolanna," Allia said stiffly.  "She is rounding up Sorcerers we can trust."
	"Trust?  What in the Nexus is going on?"
	"It is bad," Allia said in a trembling rage.  "Dolanna had horrible news.  I cannot face the Council right now.  I would have to kill them."
	Darvon gave Allia a startled look, but it was nothing compared to the way Manx was gaping at Keritanima.  "Would you mind explaining to me what you're talking about?" Keritanima demanded.
	"Tarrin was turned Were by the Council," Allia announced in a voice trembling with rage.  "It was the Council that captured Jesmind and sent her after him.  The same collar they used to control her was stolen some days ago, and Dolanna suspects that it was used to capture Tarrin."
	Keritanima stared at Allia for a long moment, then she sighed.  "I knew that the katzh-dashi were doing more than it seemed," she said in a disgusted voice.  "I'm not surprised.  They even had the foresight to send Dolanna to bring Tarrin back, just so a Sorceress with experience in dealing with Were-kin would be there to keep him under control."
	"You mean to tell me that the Council had Tarrin infected deliberately?" Darvon demanded of Allia, his faced splotched in pure rage.
	Allia nodded.  "I have not heard it from them, but Dolanna is someone that I trust.  If she says it is so, then she believes that it is so.  She would never lie to me about something as important as this.  That is enough for me."
	"It may be enough for me too," Darvon said in a grim tone, "but it's something that I'll hear out of the Keeper's mouth for myself.  Right before I smash her teeth in."
	"May I watch?" Allia asked in a savage tone.
	"I'll hold her so you can break her nose," Darvon growled.
	"I would find that very pleasing."
	"Let's not drift off course here," Keritanima reminded them.  "When Miranda gets back with the plans, we'll need to organize a way to quickly surround the building without raising too much attention to it.  Today is a service day, so we may be able to get in place before they realize what's going on."  She grinned evilly.  "They can't sneak him out, because I can pinpoint his location with Sorcery.  If they start moving him, we can adjust our deployment to keep him solidly inside our lines."
	"Pardon my boldness, Highness, but when did you learn strategy and tactics?"
	"I do more than admire pretty dresses, Colonel," she said brusquely.  "Now hush."
	"Yes ma'am."
	Miranda arrived with the plans, and she had company.  Dolanna and a small group of robed Sorcerers were following her, numbering fourteen, and they included Sevren, Elsa, and surprisingly, Lilenne and Brel.  One noticable absence was Jula, but perhaps Dolanna simply couldn't find her in time.  Faalken was marching alongside the small dark-haired Sorceress protectively, and it was clear from Dolanna's expression that she had suffered some kind of emotional trauma.  "Dolanna," Keritanima said gently.  "We appreciate your help, and the help from all the rest of you."
	"Tarrin is Ungardt, and from a clan allied to my own," Elsa, Mistress of Novices, said gruffly.  She was carrying a wicked-looking axe, which looked a bit out of place for someone wearing a robe.  "Ungardt care for their own."
	"Now gather round everyone, let's get ready."
	"Where is he?" Dolanna asked.
	"Under the Cathedral of Karas," Keritanima replied.
	"And by what right do you command us?" Brel asked sourly.
	"By the fact that I'll have Binter here grab you by the ankles and tear you in half if you don't like it," Keritanima snapped, her eyes blazing.
	"You're only an Initiate."
	"She also happens to be a Princess," Manx warned in a flat tone.  "We do as she commands."
	"The Knights stand under her banner, Sorcerer," Darvon warned.  "We will follow her commands as well."
	Brel gave Darvon a look, then nodded.  "Now your judgement I'll trust, Darvon," he said.  "If you say she commands, then she commands.  Let's see what we're going to do about this, your Highness."
	Keritanima gave Brel an impish smile, then unrolled the plans, flattened them out with Sorcery and hung them in midair.  "There are six entrances we have to cover," she said, pointing them out.  "What he have to do is surround the Cathedral without raising an alarm.  Right now, they're about to start services, so we should be able to do that.  Once we're in position, our seven strongest Sorcerers will circle and create a Ward around the cathedral that blocks all magic.  That's going to keep the priests from using magic to repel us if we invade."
	"Our priests are trained for fighting, Princess," Darvon said.  "They'll fight hand to hand."
	"Yes, but they're nowhere as well trained as your Knights and my Marines," Keritanima said calmly.  "Without their magic, we should be able to roll them under quickly and without a bloodbath.  We're not there to slaughter everyone.  We're there to get Tarrin and the people that took him.  It's a big place, and I seriously doubt that everyone in there knows that Tarrin's being held there.  Until we manage to figure out who did it, and how involved the church is, there's no need to kill everyone in a frock.  They could be innocent."
	Manx nodded sagely, and Darvon voiced agreement.  "We will have to move quickly," Darvon said.  "The Sulasian Army won't like armed columns laying siege to the city's cathedral.  We have to get him out of there before the King's men can respond, so there's a certain call for haste in this."
	"Yes, but after we have the cathedral completely overwhelmed, I hope they'll see reason and simply hand him over.  But trust me, gentlemen, one way or another, we will get him back," she said adamantly.  "After we have the cathredral Warded, we send in Darvon to negotiate.  If he can't get satisfaction, we allow the worshippers to leave, then we invade.  The mechanics of the invasion will be up to you, Colonel and my Lord General.  I won't step on your toes in that regard.  But I would like to see the cathedral taken with a minimum of killing.  We'll save killing for the truly guilty."
	"My men are trained for non-lethal combat, Highness," Manx promised.  "There will be a minimum of bloodshed."
	"I know my Knights wouldn't like having to put our own priests to the sword, so we'll be gentle," Darvon mirrored.
	"Good.  Let's get moving.  It'll take this many people time to get organized and start marching, and we have to get there before services are over."

	The room was small, lit by a single lantern that hung from a hook on the low ceiling.  The room was cool and somewhat damp, and Irvon hated it.  The fat cleric sat behind a stone bench, glaring a bit at his Sorceress visitor.  Irvon hated Sorcerers.  They were tainted by the foul goddess that commanded their magic, and none of them could be trusted.  That she would bring that creature into his cathedral, right under the nose of the thrice-damned Tower, was an outrage.  He stood there with a blank expression on his face, right to Jula's right, seemingly as stiff as a statue.  Jula herself looked very smug, sitting in the chair he reserved for visitors, her hand patting the paw that creature had placed on her shoulder like he was some kind of pet.
	He had no idea what came over her.  He knew that Jula was operating under instructions from her own superiors, but they should have warned him.  That creature was too dangerous to have around.  That she would bring him there, to their hidden base, rather than simply run with him, was quite beyond him.
	"I don't care who sent you, Jula," Irvon snapped at her.  "I want that Were-cat out of here.  If they can track him, then you'll bring the katzh-dashi down on our heads.  I have orders from Kravon himself on the matter.  I'm not to do anything to compromise our base here, and you can't get any more compromising than that," he said, pointing a fat finger at the Were-cat.
	"I can't outrun the Knights, Irvon," she said calmly.  "When they find out he's missing, they'll take Suld apart stone by stone looking for him.  This is the last place they'd think to look."
	"I don't care," he snorted.  "What you have to do doesn't concern me.  You bringing that thing here is endangering the Black Network's operations in Suld."
	"I think it's funny that you're worried about it," she smiled.  "Tarrin's amulet prevents anyone from finding him with magic, and nobody is left alive that saw me bring him off the grounds or into the cathedral."  Irvon glared at her.  That she killed four acolytes and a priest, the ones from above that had no contact with, or even knowledge of, the dark tunnels under the Cathedral, was going to be hard enough to explain.  Irvon was High Priest of Karas, but he was also a ranking member of the Black Network.  Irvon's position made the Cathedral the perfect and ultimate base of operations for the ki'zadun, their name in the Old Tongue.  Nobody would expect a bastion of law and goodness to be the base of an organization that sought to subvert such things.
	"I thought you had orders to kill him."
	"They changed their minds," she shrugged.  "He's a Weavespinner, Irvon.  That alone makes him a valuable asset.  We can find ways to use him."
	"I'm glad you think so."
	"Trust me, the collar controls him utterly," she smiled.  "Tarrin, come down here and give me a kiss," she ordered.  He bent down and kissed her gently on her upraised cheek, then raised back up.  "Now be a dear and break Irvon's desk in half."
	Irvon gave a strangled cry as the Were-cat raised its clasped paws and stepped forward, and just barely managed to get his legs out from under the desk as the creature's paws slammed into it, shattering the polished wooden desk into splinters.  Irvon was dumped to the floor, falling backwards out of his chair, and he came up spluttering, with his fat, narrow-eyed face spotched red with anger.
	"As you can see, he's completely subservient," she said with a light laugh.  "And he will only obey me, Irvon.  Keep that in mind.  If something were to happen to me, he'd stand there until someone took off the collar.  And you really wouldn't want to be here when that happens.  Trust me."  She leaned back in her chair and smiled at him.  "Tarrin, come back over here," she commanded, and the Were-cat returned to its place beside her, paw resting lightly on her shoulder.
	"I still don't have to like it, witch," Irvon snapped.  "I want you and it out of here."
	"I'm afraid you'll have to live with it for a day or two," she told him.  "Unless you'd like to explain to my Mistress why the ki'zadun refused to harbor a fellow member, especially one operating under direct orders from her superiors.  She would have a very long talk with you about that."
	Irvon paled, and swallowed.  Nobody crossed the Black Mistress, the ranking katzh-dashi in the Tower.  She had a very ugly reputation.  "Alright, but I want it in a dungeon cell, and in chains," he snapped.
	"Why?" she asked.  "Tarrin is just as obedient as a little puppy.  Aren't you, my dear?" she asked with a laugh, patting his paw.  "He's just as good here as there."
	"I want to keep it out from underfoot," he said bluntly, "and keep you from getting any ideas."
	"Oh come now, Irvon," she sighed.  "I do despise you, but I've been ordered to let you live.  I think we can be civil to one another.  Yes, well, I do have to let you live.  Now there's an idea.  Tarrin, be a dear, and go over there and bite Irvon."
	When Tarrin took a step forward, Irvon gave out a squealing cry and backed into the corner, preparing to call on the magic of Karas to defend him from the attack.  That only made Jula laugh.  "Tarrin, stop," she commanded, and he stopped moving forward.  She stood up and smoothed her silk dress, giving Irvon a horrifically evil smile.  "Tarrin, come here," she said lightly.  Tarrin returned to her side, and Jula gave Irvon a smug look.  "With him, we will win, Irvon," she said triumphantly.  "He has the power to defeat the Guardian, and he has the power to get the Firestaff.  And once we have it, then Val will be reborn, and we will rule.  I'm certain that your part in that glory will be remembered.  If you're not too much a nuisance, that is," she said with a cold smile.
	"H-how?  He's mindless!"
	"Ah, yes.  You see, the collar only subverts will, not intelligence, memory, or ability.  If we give him instructions, he will carry them out.  He won't have any choice.  He'll know he's being controlled, and rage against it in the tunnels of his own mind, but he will have to obey.  He knows what we're talking about right now.  He can hear us, and he'll remember it.  But he can't do anything about it.  I'm sure that he'd just love to take me and strangle me with my own intestines.  Wouldn't you, my dearest pet?" she asked of him, patting him on the cheek, but there was no outward reaction.  "Yes, I know you would.  But he can't," she told him with that same cold smile.  "The collar makes him mine, and I am the only one he'll obey."
	"You are deranged," Irvon told her seriously.  "I have a service to conduct.  Get that animal out of my office."
	"Yes, go mouth your platitudes and demean yourself to replenish your pitiful power," Jula sneered.  "If only Karas knew what kind of bootlicking sycophant he was granting his magic to."
	"Yes, well, that's something between me and Karas, isn't it?  Now take him to the dungeon.  That's an order."
	"Only because it pleases me to do so," she said.  "I need to change my dress, and I don't relish the idea of baring myself in front of him.  Why, the shock of my beauty may snap him free, and I'd have to fight off his advances.  I've seen him naked, you know.  I must admit, he's, impressive.  If not that our lovemaking would change me into a Were-cat, I may be tempted."
	"Sick," Irvon growled, stomping out of his office.  "Just get rid of it."
	"Indeed," she said.  "Come, Tarrin.  We have something to do."

	The entire city of  Suld knew that there was about to be war.
	The entire order of the Knights of Karas, both from the Tower and from the chapterhouse, trotted in perfect rows along the streets of the old city, sweeping everything out of their way.  They were resplendent in their black armor and snapping pennons, row after row of lances held at perfect angles, and visors lowered for battle.  Among them rode two hundred Wikuni in mail shirts and carrying heavy broadswords, as well as perhaps a dozen Sorcerers.  They were followed by rank after rank of smartly marching cadets, keeping a perfect cadence with the striking of armor-shod boots upon the centuries-old cobblestones.  They had the grim demeanor of men about to do battle, and those expressions did not change.  Two thousand armored warriors, human, Knight, and Wikuni, sent civilians scattering before them, crushing carts and wagons out of their way, and causing total confusion that spread along and before them like a wave crashing on the beach.
	Leading the column was a rather unusual commander, a slight, slender fox Wikuni wearing an Inititate's dress, the indigo color marking her as a middle-grade Initiate. But her expression was hard, stony, and she was attended by the commanders of that host who made all who looked upon them realize that the slender little Wikuni was defitely in command.  She looked infuriated, and her tail writhed behind her like a living thing of its own free will, like a dancing flame with a black tip caught in a stiff wind.  She gave sharp, incisive commands, and they were relayed and carried out by Wikuni and Knight alike with the smooth, precise coordination that marked good military units.
	They caused an instant wildfire of gossip to rise up and sweep across the city, gossip of what they were doing, why they were there, and what was going on.  It only intensified as they approached the Cathedral of Karas, but all gossip stopped when the Knights, an order under Karas, quickly and efficiently encircled the waist-high iron fence that surrounded the Cathedral, forming a wall of flesh and steel that nobody was permitted to cross.  The Knights parted and the Wikuni rushed out, seizing anyone on the grounds but not yet in the church's walls, picking them up and carrying them back outside the wall of horse and man and armor that the Knights had created.  The cathedral's bell began to toll, as if it marked the completion of the besiegement, telling all outside who were paying attention that those within had no idea they had been surrounded.
	Keritanima nodded once the maneuver had been carried out, and gave Lilenne, who had become the leader of the katzh-dashi accompanying the host, a calm look.  "Alright, Lilenne," she said in a cold voice.  "Cut the Cathedral off."
	The swallow-necked Shacan nodded calmly, and she dismounted along with her other Sorcerer companions.  Seven stepped forward, and then joined into a circle.  The other seven also joined into a circle, and after a moment of preparation, the two circles reached out to the Weave.
	Hands erupting in the wispy white aura of High Sorcery, the two independent circles erected poweful Wards that cut the entire building off from the Weave, a complete sphere that went high above the steeple and well below the crypt, an invsible bubble that isoloted everything within from the delicate matrix of magical energy that either powered all magical spells, or provided other magic a pathway from its origination to complete a circuit to the caster.  Within that sphere of Sorcerer-conjured anti-magic, there was no magic to power spells.
	And no magic to power magical devices.
	Deep within the Cathedral, a large bronze-bound door with three heavy bolts locking it in place shimmered in a brief display of magical light, and then fell dark.
 
Chapter 19

	It was as sudden as it had been the first time.  In a rush so abrupt that it almost took his breath away, his conscious roared back over the numbing magic which had it under his control, even as that magic seemed to wane and fade away.
	Blinking his eyes, Tarrin instantly stood up from the filthy straw in which he'd been sitting, and he was angry.  Anger wasn't quite the word.  Pure, sheer, abject utter rage was a better definition.  But instead of going mad and acting like an animal, he focused that sheer rage into his surroundings.
	He was in deep trouble.  He had indeed heard and remembered everything, so he fully appreciated where he was, and what was standing between him and freedom.  He was deep in a vast underground complex occupied by a large number of armed men.  From what he heard, many of the priests above knew about this place, and were indeed members of it.  But many others were not.  He had been brought down through a series of secret passages that led off a side corridor in the quarters area.  He heard every word of what Irvon and Jula said, and then she had brought him to this tiny cell, and a man had locked huge manacles on him, with a thick chain designed more for a Troll than they were for a human.  A chain ran from the manacles to the wall, secured into it by a huge eye bolt.
	Something had disrupted the magic on the collar.  That's what freed him.  He could feel a very powerful force blocking off the entire area from the Weave