dar, a scroll that hinted at the long-lost location of the Firestaff.  It was written that it existed behind the wind, within the realm of eternal shadow, and guarded by a defender of power.  The Book of Ages also mentioned the ancient artifact, a device with the power to destroy the world.  It wrote that Mi'Shara, nonhuman noble-born Sorcerers, had the best chance of finding the artifact.   But it also wrote that anyone who could find the Firestaff and either defeat or outwit its Guardian could gain ownership of it.  A Mi'Shara simply had a better chance.
	Mi'Shara were frightfully rare beings.  When the choice was made to use a Were-creature to create one, there was only Allia, and there was a sincere fear among many in the Council that she would not be enough.  So plans were made, and a Were-creature was located and captured for the task.  The arts of Communing with the Goddess, to directly ask her questions of great importance, required High Sorcery.  And even then the answers were usually very unreliable, either being too cryptic to comprehend or outright wrong, when she deigned to answer at all.  The Goddess' unwillingness to lead her children had confounded Keeper and Council alike since the katzh-dashi had returned to the Tower, but in this case they had produced a good result.  When asked if there was a human Sorcerer of noble blood to be found, the cryptic response led to Tarrin.  He was the only noble-born Sorcerer they could find, an obscure villager in a long-forgotten corner of the kingdom, who was the son of an Ungardt princess.  Dolanna was sent to perform the Test there, even though they already knew he had potential.  She was also selected because she had made a study out of Were-creatures, both their society and their physiology.  If anyone could keep the fledgeling Were-cat sane, it was Dolanna.
	They needed Tarrin, they needed him desperately.  Keritanima had shown shocking potential, especially after she had absolutely stunned everyone by leading the quickly created alliance that attacked the Cathedral of Karas to get him back.  She was not the spoiled, self-centered, immature brat that everyone thought her to be.  Myriam had had the luck of being in Jervis' office, railing at him for his little activities the night before, when the news reached him.  His jaw abosolutely dropped from his head.  If Keritanima could fool Jervis, then that meant that she had all of Wikuna fooled as well.  But where Keritanima showed incredible potential, control, and aptitude, she didn't have his raw power.  Tarrin was a Weavespinner.  A Weavespinner!  That unprecedented power had not been present on the world since the time of the Ancients.  If a Weavespinner couldn't challenge the fabled Guardian of the Firestaff and have a chance at victory, then Myriam couldn't think of anything that could.  He was their best chance, and now he was out of their hands.
	A dark shadow passed over the light flowing from the large window, closed against the winter chill, and Myriam found the breath to scream when something grabbed her by the back of her nightgown and pulled her out of her chair.  The ceiling and floor traded places wildly until she found herself on her back on the floor, a knee on her pelvis and a huge, padded hand holding her by the throat.  Two slits of intense green radiance marked the silhouette of a human figure, a figure with the other hand held up and away.
	Not a human.  A Were-cat!
	"Tarrin, are you out of your--"
	"Silence!" Tarrin snapped in a voice tight with fury.  "I know the truth, Myriam!  You did this to me!"
	Myriam Lar, Keeper of the Six Spires, ruler of the katzh-dashi, one of the most powerful people in Sulasia, wet herself at that infuriated proclamation.  But then again, few human beings could stare death in the face and not be affected in some way.  Tarrin was infuriated, and his Were-cat nature would not allow him to handle that fury in a very gentle or painless manner.
	"You watched me, spied on me, let me go on here and suffer, and you never had the nerve to tell me!  I should kill you for this!  I want to kill you so bad that I can taste it!  You destroyed my life!"
	"What was done was done for the good of everyone," she said in a quavering voice, seeing her own death in those twin slits of unholy green fire.  "It was not done without great need, Tarrin.  We need you.  We need you now more than any person, any kingdom, any civiliation, has needed someone before.  And you can't do what you need to do unless you are what you are now.  Yes, we changed you," she admitted in a tight voice, tight with terror.  "But it was only because we had no other choice."
	Tarrin grabbed at a bulge in her nightgown, then Myriam gasped in pain when he snapped the chain holding her shaeram around her neck.  He held that gold amulet in his paw lightly.  "I want to kill you so bad I can taste it, but that's not good enough."  His paw suddenly exploded in white light, Magelight, and she felt him weave a spell into that amulet.  He plunged the amulet down and pressed it against her chest, just under the collarbone on her right side, and she screamed in total, mindless pain.  The amulet's gold burned into her skin, charring it, burning through and into muscle, even as the magic behind it burned into her soul.
	When he relented, Myriam curled up into a defensive ball, crying and moaning, feeling the searing pain shudder through her with every beat of her heart.  "I did that because there was no other choice," he hissed.  "I'll never trust you again, Keeper.  Know that.  But also know that you have a traitor among you.  If not for my need to keep others safe, I would kill you and be done with it.  But their lives are in as much danger as yours, and it's all because of that.
	"Jula collared me," he told her as she looked up at him.  "She said someone ordered her to do it, someone here in the Tower.  And it's a woman.  I don't give a damn about you or the Tower, but I do care for those I'm leaving behind, and they're in danger so long as that traitor stays among you.  I'm letting you live only because you're the only one that can keep my friends alive, Keeper.  And if they die, then so will you."
	"What happened to Jula?"
	"I punished her for taking away my freedom," he said in a cold voice, a voice full of tightly controlled fury.  "Just be glad I'm not doing the same to you.  I should, but if I kill you, my friends will be in danger, and you'll just be replaced by people who will come after me.  Now that you understand the consequences of chasing me down, I'm sure that you'll think twice about it.  You have no idea what I'm capable of, Keeper.  I'll raze all of Suld to the ground just to kill you.  So leave me be, and I'll let you live.  And every time you start to forget my warning, just reach up and touch your brand.  It won't let you forget."
	He stared down at her, then those slits of ominous radiance blinked.  And then he was gone.
	Choking, coughing, stifling a sob, Myriam Lar, Keeper of the katzh-dashi, rolled to her knees, clutching her chest. The brand was throbbing, pulsing with pain, and she could feel its shape.  It was a perfect brand of a shaeram.  She rose up while supporting herself with her other hand and vomited, reaction to the fear, the shock, and the pain.
	It was survival, but it was also doom.  Without Tarrin, the entire world was in danger.
	And there was nothing that she could do about it.

	Entering the courtyard perhaps for the last time, Tarrin stared around the majestic scene, his heart heavy and his soul dimmed.  He hated doing things like that, but it there really wasn't a choice.  Getting Jula had been absolutely vital.  He wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing she was out there, with her collar, waiting for him again.  The Keeper too had suffered for her crimes, and even now he regretted not just ending her, or even not being more thorough with the punishment.  But to kill like that mortified his human soul, even as the memory of what he had done had begun to return, memories that horrified him so deeply that he couldn't even express it in words.  It had shocked him into a strange feeling of disassociation with himself, where what he had done seemed to be someone else, and it drowned out anything he may be feeling other than his anger for those who had wronged him.
	If there was anywhere he would go, it would be the courtyard.  The fountain still splashed its melody of nature, and the statue of the Goddess still stood atop it, all stone and water but also beauty and warmth.  But he couldn't feel those things, could barely feel anything other than a numbness to his emotions, a blanket laid over his mind that only allowed the fire of his anger to bleed through.  The statue's expression was melancholy, as if she could feel his pain, and would join in his suffering.  The tent still stood to the side, where he and his sisters and sat and studied night after night, where he had gotten to know Miranda, where he had started to feel that there was hope for them all.
	In a way, now there was.  He was not going to stay there.  Suld was dead to him now, and he had to leave.  They planned to go to the desert, to beg sanctuary from Allia's clan.  It was as good a place as any.  Tarrin felt a distinct lack of interest in wherever his sisters decided to go.  He would be with them, but it no longer mattered to him.  Very little did, now that his unfinished business was no longer unfinished.
	Things had come undone.  Keritanima's secret was out.  She had commanded the host that reclaimed him, and now everyone knew that she was much smarter than she appeared to be.  Allia had almost become unhinged by his abduction, and it had taken some serious talking to convince her to let him handle the vengeance.  Vengeance was an important business to the Selani.  No crime went without a justifiable punishment.  The Knights were leaving the grounds, breaking away from the katz-dashi over what they had done to him.  The Cathedral had been purged, and it left precious few priests afterward to care for it and the congregation.  The entire city was under martial law, as the King sent out his army to reclaim control of the streets after the fighting touched off a riot in the Market Quarter.  It was a chaotic mess, but it was something that barely captured his attention.  It was as if he had switched himself off, shutting down the parts of himself that felt or reacted to feelings.  The only thing that came through that was anger, a towering, seething fury that demanded for those who hurt him to suffer in kind.
	It will pass, my kitten, the voice of the Goddess called to him.  Like all things.
	"Goddess," he said in a calm, defensive voice.  "You knew."
	I knew, she admitted.
	"Why didn't you tell me!" he shouted suddenly, rushing up to the statue.  He fell to his knees by the lip of the fountain's pool, and the water inexplicably stopped pouring from the fountain's upper layer.  He thrust his paws out at that statue, manacles on his wrists, showing them to her.  "I deserved to know that they did this to me!"
	Yes, you did, she agreed.  But why I didn't tell you is exactly why you are here now.  Does branding the Keeper change what has happened?  Did crippling Jula make your pain any less?
	"She betrayed me!" he screamed.
	And you betray yourself by reducing yourself to her level, she replied sadly.  You are a dry branch in a bonfire, my kitten.  Your instability makes you dangerous, so I did not tell you.  I would not tell you, even if I could have.  If only for the sake of those around you.
	There was no way he could refute that.  If he had known the truth earlier, he probably would have lashed out and killed the entire Council.  And that would have made things very, very messy for him and his sisters.
	Things have come to you of their own volition, kitten, she said in a gentle voice.  These were things that I couldn't tell you, because they would have interfered with the choices that you have made.  And it is time for you to make them.
	"What are you talking about?" he asked, curiosity overwhelming the anger he was starting to feel against the Goddess.
	You have an understanding of what is going on now, she explained.  It is time for you to choose where you are going to stand within it.
	"What do you mean?  Is this about that Firestaff thing?"
	Of course it is, my kitten, she replied.  Right now, that is the most important thing in the world.
	"What is it, Goddess?"
	The Firestaff is an ancient artifact, kitten, from a time before the Blood War.  It was created so long ago that there is nothing left of those who made it, and all history of them has been lost over the ages.  It holds the power of creation inside it, an echo of the power that Ayise used when she created the world.  If someone were to hold that staff on a certain day, and at a certain time, that power would be imbued upon the holder, and he would become a god.  That day comes every five thousand years.  And that day is approaching us soon, my kitten.  Right now, half of the people on Sennadar are scrambling to find that staff, dreaming of immortality and godhood.  But most of them don't realize the terrible price that they'll have to pay, and the damage it will do to the world.
	"What do you mean?"
	Tarrin, that power will exist outside of our rules, and that means that the new god will have no constraints.  Ayise will be powerless to stop him, because he will not be one of her children.  We will have to rise up and destroy the invader, because his very existence will threaten the Balance.  Tarrin, my kitten, such a war would make the Blood War look like a skirmish.  It would destroy every nation in the world, and send Sennadar hurtling back into the stone age.
	Tarrin's eyes widened, and he gaped up at the statue.
	Can you imagine what horror that would bring to the world?  It's not something that we Gods relish, believe me.  But we could avoid all of it, my kitten.  If someone trustworthy were to find the Firestaff and keep it away from everyone else, that day could come and go without anything drastic happening.  It would be harmless for the next five thousand years, and the world would continue on as it has been.
	"Me," he breathed.
	You, she agreed.  The katzh-dashi created you, literally, to find the Firestaff.  You represent their best chance to locate it.  Myriam Lar intends to lock it away, but as you saw, the Tower is not a secure place.  I can't trust my order to take care of it, my kitten.  So that leaves me with you.
	It is much to ask of you, Tarrin, she said sadly.  All you want is to live in peace.  I know it, and it pains me to ask anything more of you.  You've suffered enough.  And, to be honest, that is something that you can do.  You could leave here and return to Aldreth, or go to the forest, and live in peace.  But if someone gets the Firestaff and uses it, then your peace won't last.  I can't say one way or the other what would happen if you don't do this for me, my kitten.  Things could turn out alright, but they also could not.  I'm not one to sit around and trust to blind luck.
	I can't trust my own order now.  Believe me, Tarrin, I had no idea they managed to infiltrate my Sorcerers so thoroughly.  I have you, and you represent everything I always tried to endear in my children.  But I also know that I can't force you to do anything.  I can only ask you.  It's not something I would ask lightly, my sweet child.  It will be a dangerous road, and its outcome is uncertain.  There is a very good chance that you won't live to see the end of it.  But of all those who seek the Firestaff, you, Tarrin Kael, Mi'Shara, you have the best chance to succeed.
	Would you be my champion, Tarrin Kael?  Would you seek out what must be sought, and protect it from those who would use it to harm our world?  Would you take up my quest?  Or will you return to the forest, or seek shelter among the Selani?  Either way, I will still love you.  Your decision, your choice, it is your own, and either way, I will support it.  But there comes a time, my kitten, when the needs of an individual are outweighed by the needs of the many.
	It is this choice that I have been preparing you to make, Tarrin.  You must choose between danger and safety, pain and tranquility.  Mine is the longer road, full of danger and sharp corners, but at least its ending is much more certain than the much easier path.
	"But why me?" he asked plaintively.  "Why give such trust to me?  I don't even trust myself!"
	Think about it, she replied.  What does being a god represent to a mortal?  It represents immortality, and it represents power.  Tarrin, my sweet kitten, you already have both.  What more would being a god bring to you?  I know your heart, my kitten.  Such things are not what you desire.  All you want out of life now is a small cottage in the forest, where you can simply live.  Of all the mortal-kin on Sennadar, you have the least ambition to such a lofty position, and that makes you the most dependable of them all.
	Tarrin couldn't refute such simple logic.  And she was right.  Tarrin had no desire for such power.  All he wanted to do was find somewhere nice and secluded, and just live.
	He lowered his head, staring into the water, his mind lost in deep thought.  He was torn between his Were impulse to run into the forest and be free, and his sincere love for and sense of duty towards his mysterous deity.  She was giving him a choice, a choice between what he wanted to do and what she needed him to do.  Either way, he would leave with her blessing.  He had already suffered a great deal, and the Goddess made no guarantees that he wouldn't suffer more.  He may even die.  He would be risking his life for something that seemed intangible to him, a fairy tale lost in the mists of antiquity.  But the consequences of his inactivity had been plainly spelled out.  If he did nothing, then there was a good chance that the entire world would suffer.  He didn't want any of this.  All he wanted to do was be free.  But agreeing to this would restrain his freedom yet again, place him in the yoke of yet another master.  It went against his nature, just as much as doing nothing went against his human ideals.  He was torn within himself, caught between his Were instincts and his human ethics, and neither was strong enough to overcome the other.
	He remembered Miranda's words, a fleeting memory fluttering before him.  Sometimes, what one person wants or needs is overshadowed by what others need of them.
	And before his eyes, he could only see Janette, his little mother, and before her stretched a future of frightening ambiguity.  She was so young, so young, and her life could be changed, or ended, by the decision that he made.
	In the end, there really was no choice.
	"I will," he said in a quiet voice.
	The statue suddenly began to glow, and its eyes became incandescent.  You won't be sorry, my kitten, she said in a delighted voice.  There are rewards, you know.  I wasn't allowed to offer them to you as enticement.  It had to be a choice made unswayed by promises of reward.
	Tarrin ignored that.  He wasn't very happy about it.  But he would do it.  She was his Goddess, after all, and he would do what she asked.  If only because she asked.  "What do I do?"
	I can't give you any direct help, Tarrin, she warned.  To do so would upset the rules.
	"Rules?  What rules?"
	Tarrin, you are not the only champion of a God playing this game, she warned.  There are some Younger Gods who would risk destruction to gain that staff, because it would add to their power.  They are forbidden from directly aiding their mortal champions, just as I am forbidden from aiding you.  All I can tell you is that the first step to finding the Firestaff is to find the Book of Ages.
	"But that's been missing for centuries!" he said helplessly.
	Yes, but you already know where it is, my kitten, she said impishly.  There are only three cities with libraries extensive enough to hold such a prized tome.  And you can rule two of them out.
	Extensive libraries?  There were indeed three cities highly reputed for their libraries.  One was the Library of the katzh-dashi, in Suld.  Another was the Cathedral of Knowledge, which was in Sharadar.  The third was the Imperial Library in Dala Yar Arak.  It certainly wasn't in Suld, but how could he rule one of the other two cities out?
	The Tower!  Dolanna said that the Sorcerers in Sharadar had their own Tower!  If the book was there, they would have found it, and let the katzh-dashi know!
	"Arak?" he said uncertainly.
	Don't ask me, she said in a light voice.  I'm not allowed to tell you.  I wouldn't be allowed to agree with you either, if I thought it was a question.  But I would be allowed to agree with you if it was a statement made in sincere belief.
	"It has to be," he said.  "There are Sorcerers in the other two cities."
	I do believe that you're right, she said with a silvery laugh.
	Dala Yar Arak.  The largest city in the Known World, home to millions of people.  Capital of the largest, most powerful, and most feared empire on the face of Sennadar.
	He had to comb the largest city in the world and find a single book.  It defined an impossible task.
	"You're not making this easy for me to take, Goddess," he said with a grunt.
	She laughed.  It's why it's a quest, my kitten.  If it were easy, it would be called an errand.
	"I guess so."
	Remember that you're not alone, kitten, she warned.  You're only one player among many, in a game of quests.  You're all racing for the same prize, and only one of you can have it.  You have an advantage over them, my kitten, but remember that getting the prize and keeping the prize after you get it are two different things.  The Questing Game has already begun, and there are players ahead of you, as well as behind.  Keep both eyes open, and trust in your friends.  They will be there for you when you need them.
	There was a short silence.  I know that this only adds on to an already eventful day and night, my kitten, but I had no more time.  Think about things for me, and know that one can always find forgiveness outside before he can find it within himself.  Take comfort in that forgiveness, and let it help you find it within yourself.
	"Can I let them know?"
	Of course, she replied.  They are players as much as you.  But when you go, there are five people that you absolutely must take with you.  Without them, your chance to succeed is greatly diminished.
	"Who?"
	Allia, for one, she replied.  Without your sister, you would be lost.  You would not be a complete family without Keritanima, and trust me, having her Royal Highness' pedigree to throw around could be a tremendous advantage for you.  You also need Dolanna, because she is the only one who can soothe you and help you deal with what you are.  You need Azakar, for his strength and his lineage, and you will need Dar.
	"Dar?  Why Dar?"
	Not everyone is as valuable as he appears, my kitten, she replied.  Dar has qualities that you overlook.
	"What about the others?"
	Others will certainly join you, my kitten, and you should always welcome friends, she told him.  But those five I named, their unique skills and attributes will be a very great boon to you.
	"What do I do with them?"
	Well, you can start by getting yourself to Dala Yar Arak, she said impishly.  What you do when you get there is up to you.  But it would be best to get there first, wouldn't it?
	"I guess," he sighed.  He had thrown off one yoke, and had just taken on another.  But at least this driver he could tolerate.  His faith in the Goddess was the only reason he could allow it.  "I'll find your Firestaff, Goddess, and then I'll make sure nobody can get their hands on it.  Then I can be free."
	You will be free, she promised, and you will be happy.  I will make sure of that.  But right now, time is wasting, my kitten.  You have to go.
	He nodded.  "What about the tent?"
	I will keep watch over it.  You never know, you may come back here some day.  I'll make sure that the books are here waiting for you if you do.
	He felt...ridiculous.  Why was he doing this?  He had his freedom in his paws, and he was throwing it away.  But it would be an empty freedom, a freedom with a dark cloud hanging over it.  If someone else found that strange artifact and used it, it could destroy everything.  Tarrin could endure being in thrall to the Goddess, mainly because he was one of the few people he would trust.  He felt that she did indeed love him, and that working for her would be a mutually respectful relationship.  He was nobody to go on some mad quest.  He was a village boy who had started with dreams of Knighthood, and now only had dreams of tranquility.  But galavanting off on some search for a lost artifact had never crossed his mind.
	Standing up, he stared up at the statue.  He wondered when he wouldn't feel numb anymore, and how he would feel about this when he didn't.  How he would feel about alot of things.   He was still operating in a daze of sorts, an unfeeling state of mind that only allowed his grim tasks of payback to be considered.  It was a heightened state of unfeeling, and the Cat had alot to do with it.  He stared at the statue for a very long moment, her words echoing in his mind, her choice stretching out before him like a road laced with broken glass.
	But there really was no other choice.  His little mother was depending on him to make her world safe, and it was something that needed to be done.  He wouldn't trust an artifact of that kind of power in anyone else's hands.  He would find it, and when he found it, he would destroy it.
	It would never threaten the world again.  Because he could possibly be alive the next time the Firestaff threatened the balance of life on Sennadar.
	Bowing his head, he turned and left the statue, slipping back into the dark foliage that concealed the courtyard from the outside world.  Where it was bitterly cold that night elsewhere, in the courtyard and the gardens it was warm and pleasant.  But a cold wind emanated from the statue, a cold wind that permeated the maze, filtered out into the gardens, creeping through the gardens and giving the flowers and fruit trees and plants an unknown shock.  Not enough to kill, but more than enough to make them close up in defense against the chill, protect themselves from that induced cold.  The cold did gather around the tent holding the pilfered books and scrolls, coalescing around it like moths to a flame, and then shimmering into a clear dome of the finest crystal.  To protect what was within against the rain, to protect the paper against the marching of time's inexorable advance, to defend against fading and having the parchment turn brittle in the dry protection of the dome.
	And then the courtyard fell dark, as the light emanating from the statue faded.  The expression on the face of that delicate stone maiden was stoic, resolute, like a traveller heading down the road leading home.  A long and twisting road, full of bandits and uncertainty, but with something good at the end of it to make the journey worthwhile.
	And the tent with its cache of books stood, books not truly read in all the excitement over finding the tutorial for learning the Sha'Kar langauge, books penned a thousand years ago and more, holding lore and information lost to the world.  They sat in their dark chests, protected from the marching of time by the Goddess' dome, sheltered from the rain, cradled like children in the arms of a loving mother.
	Waiting.

	"Tarrin!" Dar protested as the Were-cat dragged him through the streets of Suld on a bitterly cold, crystal-clear night.
	The trip back into the Tower was important for more than one reason.  Tarrin swung by his room and picked up all his things, since the Council hadn't thought to clean it out yet.  His staff was important to him, and he wanted it back.  He had it, along with all his traveling leathers--he would never wear Initiate colors again!--and his personal effects.  After that, he had picked up Dar, literally, grabbing his personal chest in one paw and Dar in the other, and carrying the blanket-wrapped Arkisian right out of the Tower.  He had the sense not to raise a fuss on the grounds, but when Tarrin used his formidable magic to breach the Weave, suffering a horrible backlash for his efforts, Dar found his objections voiced after they were out of the Tower's earshot.
	"I lost my blanket and I'm cold!" he protested.  "Put me down!"
	Tarrin stopped and lightly set him on his feet, looking at him.  He was hopping from bare foot to bare foot to protect them against the biting cold of the flagstones, and his teeth were chattering.  He was dressed only in a nightshirt, and it wavered with the cold wind and caused his dark skin to prickle with goosebumps.
	"I'm sorry," he said calmly, putting down the chest and opening it.  "Let's get you dressed."
	"What in the world are you doing, Tarrin?" Dar demanded.  "You could have just asked me to come with you!"
	"I wanted it to look exactly like what it was, Dar," he said calmly.  "An abduction.  I'm stealing you."
	Dar gave him a look, then laughed.  "I'm not worth that much, my friend."
	"You are to me," he said, handing Dar a pair of wool breeches.  Dar literally jumped into them, then stepped into the leather shoes he kept at the bottom of the chest, which Tarrin had removed for him.  "I need your help."
	"Doing what?"
	"I found out what the Tower wanted from me," he said in a neutral voice.  "I also heard it from the Goddess herself.  I, I have something I have to do.  So I'm going on a trip.  I need your help, Dar.  The Goddess said you know things that are important."
	"Me?  Why me?"
	"I have no idea," he replied honestly.  "But I need your help."
	"Where are we going?"
	"Right now, Yar Arak.  From there, I don't know."
	"Yar Arak!"
	Tarrin nodded.  "I'll explain it all when I get back to the chapterhouse with you," he said.  "I only want to have to go through it once.  Even I don't understand why I'm doing it."
	"What are we doing?" Dar said plaintively.

	They were all there.  Darvon, Ulger, and Azakar sat with Faalken at a table in the chapterhouse's main study, a place for the prefect of the chapterhouse to receive guests.  Keritanima and Allia sat on a sofa near the fire with Binter and Sisska standing at its ends in protection of the Princess, and Dolanna and Miranda sat on the sofa flanking it.  Dar sat on a chair with his back to the fire, a hea