other, but Tarrin's absolute intolerance for Laren forced the smaller Were-cat out of the inn, and eventually out of the city.  Just the scent of Laren was enough to work Tarrin up to a near fever pitch.  Jale only stopped in for a couple of days, long enough to get a look at Tarrin, and then she too was gone.  That left only Triana, Thean, Nikki, and Shayle, Triana's family of sorts.  Triana wasn't married to Thean, but it was obvious to anyone looking at them just where Thean's loyalties lay.  Thean adored Triana, and given his choice of partners, he would always choose her.  For her own part, Triana was very comfortable with the elder male, and when they were together, they looked like a pair of grandparents in how they acted towards each other.  That deep familiarity existed between them, just like a couple who had been together for a very, very long time.  Her stony mask and utter control of everything never wavered--Thean was clearly the submissive in their relationship--but it was also clear that she had deep feelings for the red-haired male.
	The day had dawned hot and cloudless, as summer grabbed the land in a fierce grip and squeezed.  The lands of Arkis were used to the brutal heat, for Arkis laid far south of his village home.  Tarrin could deal with the heat, but the stifling humidity was another matter.  The air was so heavy, it felt like he was breathing through wet cotton, and it pressed on him like a soggy blanket.  That too, he discovered, was normal.  Tarrin sat in the inn's dining room, enjoying a meal of thick slices of bacon, fresh bread, and a meat pie made from the leftovers of the night before.  Nikki sat with him, as did Allia.  Nikki was somewhat fascinated by the lithe Selani, and they had spent a good deal of time talking with one another.  Allia seemed to like Nikki, for she was bright, intelligent, and curious about all things.  Her desire to learn was sincere and infectious, and Allia often found herself telling the young Were-cat female more than she really meant to say.
	"If the brands are the marks of adulthood, then why does Tarrin have them?" Nikki asked in her chiming voice.  Nikki had a lovely voice, a rich, clear soprano voice, a voice that could make music cry if she ever used it in song.
	"Tarrin is my brother, Nikki," Allia said simply.  "You know that."
	"I've heard you call him that.  I thought it was a Selani custom."
	"No.  Tarrin is my deshida, my brother in all but blood.  When he accepted me as his sister, he also accepted the brands as proof of his devotion to our bond.  I cannot have a brother who is not a recognized member of my people.  The brands give him that recognition."
	"It must have hurt," she said insightfully.
	"It wasn't pleasant, but the pain is part of the rite," Tarrin replied.  "You have to be willing to endure it, to prove you're worthy of them."
	"Ouch."
	"I screamed," Tarrin admitted.  "They hurt for days afterward."
	"Admitting to pain is acceptable.  Flinching under it is taboo," Allia told Nikki.  "Part of the rite calls for the one branded to hold completely still while the iron is applied.  If one moves, he takes a bad brand, and is dishonored."
	"I thought he was cast out."
	"There is no law that forces it, but one who takes a bad brand often leaves, rather than bring dishonor to the rest of the clan."
	"That sounds nearly cruel.  To be punished for the rest of your life for one moment of weakness."
	"The desert is a harsh land, Nikki.  If some of our customs seem barbaric, consider the lands in which we live.  We are the soul of our land."
	"That's a strange thought," Nikki mused.  "It makes sense, though.  Mother told me you have another sister, like Tarrin."
	"Not like Tarrin," Allia chuckled.  "Keritanima is nothing like Tarrin."
	"Kerri is definitely unique," Tarrin agreed.  "She's got as much will as Triana, she's a very determined woman.  She's the smartest woman I think I've ever known, and what makes her so special is that she knows how to use her brains.  She's never without a plan."
	"If she can stick with them," Allia smiled.  "Keritanima gets impulsive when things get crazy."
	"Things always seem to work out, though.  I like that about her," Tarrin told his sister.
	"As do I," she agreed.  "Keritanima is my sister, the same way Tarrin is my brother.  And they are brother and sister to each other.  We are something of a family, Nikki, a very tight-knit family."
	"She's branded too?"
	They both nodded.  "She took it alot better than I did, but at least I didn't complain for a ride afterward," Tarrin said.
	"How did you meet?"
	"We were all students in the Tower, in Suld," Allia replied.  "We met there.  Tarrin was the only reason I did not go mad there, and Keritanima's incredible mind was what got us out of the Tower alive.  We have been through a great deal together."
	"We didn't do it alone, though," Tarrin said.  "If it hadn't been for Dolanna and Faalken, Miranda and Zak, Dar and the Vendari, Darvon, Ulger, Sevren and Tomas, we'd probably still be there."
	"All are worth great honor," Allia said seriously.
	"I've talked to Dolanna.  She seems like a very wise woman."
	"You have no idea," Tarrin said fervently.  "She's one of my best friends, and the only reason I didn't go crazy after Jesmind bit me."
	"Dolanna is the soul of our group, Nikki," Allia told her.  "Without her, we would all be lost."
	"Where is Dolanna?" Tarrin asked curiously.
	"She, Faalken, and Dar are with Renoit," she replied.  "The circus is going to end tomorrow.  Triana still has not said if you are ready to go, so I think she is there making sure he can hold over for us."
	"He's ready," Triana said from the doorway.  "More or less, anyway."
	"Mother," Nikki greeted with a smile.
	"Good morning, mother," Tarrin greeted.
	"Cubs, Allia," Triana acknowledged.  "Tarrin, we need to talk about something."
	"What?  In private?"
	"No, this will do.  I have someone I want you to meet."
	There was a calm, hesitant quality to her voice that told him that this wasn't just someone that he should meet.  This was someone important.  He stood up hesitantly as a strange buzzing sound reached his ears, and the strangest scent touched his nose.  It was something like cypress and cedar, mixed with the smell of flesh tinted with cinammon.  A very earthy, spicy smell.  The buzzing sound got louder, until it seemed to be coming from right in front of him.  A strange wavering appeared in the air in front of him, and then it faded away.
	It left in its wake the most exotic creature Tarrin had ever seen.  It was an exceptionally tiny female being, human-like in shape and form, but she couldn't stand more than a span tall.  Her skin was a bluish color, and her hair was auburn.  Her face was cherubic, very pretty, with wide cheeks and pert lips, her features tiny yet proportioned to her tiny body.  Her small eyes were an amber color not too much unlike the yellow of Keritanima's eyes, and she wore a simple halter over her tiny breasts and a skirt, both looking to be made out of spun spider's silk.  Her form was like a doll, but she was most definitely a mature female of her species.  She had the feminine body shape, with breasts and wide hips.  If she were Tarrin's size, she would be rather voluptuous.  The buzzing sound came from behind her, from a pair of dragonfly-like wings that were on her back, wings that beat the air to create that buzzing sound, and keep her aloft.
	It was a Faerie!  Tarrin stared at her in astonishment, then Triana's teachings managed to reach though his surprise.  He offered both his paws to her quickly, cupping them together and offering her a place to land.  She did so without a word, her wings slowing to a stop behind her, and she looked up at him quietly.  Those wings caught his attention.  They looked like a dragonfly's wing, and their chitinous length was a riot of conflicting pools and dabs of color.  The wings were opaque, and every time they moved, they caused scillinting reflections of light to dance along their lengths.  He'd seen a wing like that before, sitting in the box of private things that was now in Jenna's care.
	The wing he'd marvelled at for years was a Faerie's wing!
	"Done staring?" she asked in a very high-pitched, piping voice.
	"I'm--I'm sorry, but I was looking at your wings," he told her.  "I have one of them."
	"You have one of them?  It must be my size, then, and I doubt it can get you off the ground," she winked.
	"No, I have just the wing," he elaborated.  "I found it in the forest, and kept it."
	"Really?  You'll have to show it to me some day."
	"Tarrin, I'd like you to meet Sarraya.  Sarraya, this is Tarrin."
	"Pleased to meet you," Tarrin said, staring down at the exquisitely tiny thing he was holding in his paws.  He could easily crush her, she was so small.  He couldn't get over how tiny, how delicate she was.
	"You don't look as ferocious as they said you would," she grinned.
	"Sarraya is here as a representative of Fae-da'Nar, Tarrin," Triana said soberly.  "She's going to test you on what I've taught you.  Answer her questions, and treat her with respect."
	"I understand, mother," he said calmly.  That meant that the time had come.  He had to satisfy Sarraya that he understood the laws and the customs, that he wouldn't endanger the Woodkin.  If he could convince her of that, he would be accepted.  If he couldn't, he would be branded Rogue, and his mother, Nikki, and the rest of Fae-da'Nar would then have to kill him.  His very life was now in the Faerie's tiny blue-skinned hands.
	"Carry me somewhere private, Tarrin," Sarraya ordered.  "I don't want to have to do this with an audience.  It annoys me, and it probably won't do you much good either."
	"Of course," he answered her.
	Tarrin carried her carefully into one of the private dining rooms, and sat down.  She jumped down from his paws to the table, standing there and staring up at him with a very serious look.  "I'm sure you understand why I'm here, and what it means," she began.  "I want to tell  you right now not to be nervous.  Alot of my judgement comes from Triana, not from you.  She says you're fit to stand among us.  I just want to get to know you, and see if she's finally going to be wrong for once in her life."
	"It sounds like you want me to fail."
	"No, I just want you to relax," she replied cooly.
	"That's not the thing to say to do it."
	"No, but it let me see how you'd react when faced with unfavorable information," she winked.  "I'm going to say and do things that you may think odd, Tarrin.  Don't worry, I'm just trying to get a feeling for your state of mind.  I have nothing personal against you.  And on the other hand, I have no personal favoritism for you either.  I'm simply here to assess you.  Nothing more, nothing less."
	"Oh.  Alright."
	And so it began.  Sarraya grilled him on all the things he'd learned from Triana, from the four laws of Fae-da'Nar to the myriad customs he was expected to know.  Him holding out his paws for Sarraya had been one of those customs, allowing her to land somewhere so she could see his face.  That, he realized, had been his first test.  He answered her quickly and correctly at all times, so quickly that it looked to begin to irritate the tiny creature.  Her questions began getting more and more complicated, more abstract, hypothetical questions about what he should do in certain situations.  Some of them confused him, because Triana made no mention of creatures call Worgs, nor did she discuss what he was supposed to do if he found himself standing face to face with a Centaur arguing with a Dryad.  He relied on his common sense for those questions, things that he thought should be done to avoid fighting.
	"And what are these for?" she asked, pointing to his manacles.
	"They make sure I don't forget," he said with narrowing eyes.
	"Forget what?"
	"Forget what trusting people can bring me," he answered honestly.
	"Sounds like you don't like people."
	"I don't," he replied bluntly.  "I placed my trust in the Sorcerers, and then I found out they ordered this done to me," he said, holding out his paws.  "I placed my trust in a human woman I thought was a friend, and she repaid me by capturing me and holding me prisoner with magic.  I--" he closed his eyes.  "I killed alot of people getting out of there."  No matter how hard he felt towards that act, it never ceased to bring him a stab of pain.  But when they opened again, they were full of steely resolve.  "I don't trust humans anymore, Sarraya.  It's just that simple, and I'm not going to change.  So don't try."
	"Why would I try?  You are who you are, cub," she replied calmly.  "I'm not here to be your friend.  I'm here to make sure you can obey our laws.  Do you ever want to kill the humans?"
	"I don't go out of my way to do it, no," he replied.  "I won't let them get very close to me, though.  As long as they don't pressure me or bother me, I can tolerate them."
	"And if they do bother you?"
	"They don't," he said ominously.
	"Ah.  You have that stare thing down, I see," she said with a sudden grin.  "I thought you Were-cats practiced it.  I think now it's an instinct."  Her wings started up, and she buzzed up off the table and landed on his shoulder.  He felt her slight weight as she seated herself.  "Now take me to Triana," she ordered.
	"That's it?"
	"That's all I need to hear," she replied.
	Tarrin wasn't sure what to make of her abrupt ending of their conversation.   That she ended it with the manacles, and his aversion to humans, didn't seem to be a very good sign.  Either way, he would go on after she made her decision.  He had too much to do to die now, and he doubted that Triana would try to kill him seconds after Sarraya's judgement.  If worse came to worst, he could get away from his kin, get back on the ship and flee to Arak before it came to blows.  Regardless of his confidence, he was still very nervous as he entered the room and stared at the occupants.  Triana sat with her two daughters in the main dining room, with Allia.  Triana looked decidedly uneasy, but that was clamped down when Tarrin entered the room.  She stood immediately as Sarraya flitted off his shoulder, then landed in her cupped paws.  "Well?" Triana demanded.
	"He's got some rough edges," she said.  "Very rough edges.  But I think he can manage to live by our laws.  Congratulations, Triana, you can keep him."
	Triana blew out her breath, and Nikki unclasped her paws from where she'd been wringing them.  Shayle grinned at him brightly.  Allia rose and took Tarrin's paw fondly, and he put his arm around her.
	"A Selani," Sarraya said in interest, turning to look at her.  "Your wife?"
	"My sister," Tarrin replied.
	"You have exotic tastes in friends, Tarrin," Sarraya winked.  "I haven't seen a Selani in decades.  How fares your people, Selani?"
	"They prosper, as always, small one," Allia replied evenly.  That she was talking to a being that few people ever saw didn't seem to faze her in the slightest.  "Our land shelters us, and the Holy Mother Goddess watches over us."
	"Lucky you," Sarraya winked.  "Have any sweet rolls around here, Triana?  I've been dying for a pastry since I left home."
	"I'll have the cooks make you one, Sarraya," Triana promised.
	"A small one.  I don't want to weigh myself down with a full belly."
	"They can't make one small enough for you, sprite," Triana challenged.  "Just break off what you want."
	"I hate waste," Sarraya grunted.
	"You have four other mouths in here.  I'm sure one of them will finish it for you."
	"I don't like sharing either."
	"Suffer," Triana said, putting her down on the table, and then walking back to the kitchen.
	Sarraya turned to the two sister Were-cats easily.  "You're getting tall, Nikki," she noted.  "Last time I saw you, you were still wearing diapers."
	"If I still did, people would talk, Sarraya," Nikki replied.
	"Aren't you pregnant yet, Shayle?" Sarraya asked.
	"I've been trying, but Thean won't look at me with Triana here, and Tarrin won't cooperate."
	"Shame on you, cub," Sarraya turned on him and winked.  "Making Shayle go without."
	"She didn't ask nicely," Tarrin drawled.
	"I'm starting to think that it takes a large club to get Tarrin's attention," Shayle complained.  "He won't tell me how Mist managed--"
	"Mist?  You were jumped by Mist?" Sarraya asked in surpise.
	"There's a story behind it, but the short answer is yes," Tarrin replied.
	"Have a seat, boy.  You have some talking to do," she said, pointing at a chair by the table where she stood.
	"I thought Triana would tell you about that."
	"She just told me you healed Mist's scars.  She never said anything about that."
	Tarrin sat down, as did the others, and Tarrin calmly repeated the circumstances around his relationship with Mist.  He didn't feel very embarassed to talk about it in front of four females, at least until he got around to the conceiving part.  He glossed over that, focusing more on the fact that she was pregnant than how it happened.
	"Well," Sarraya said after he finished, "I'm certainly glad I decided you fit.  If I'd have known about this, I'd have accepted you no matter what."
	"Why?" Allia asked.
	"That was plain old compassion, Selani," Sarraya replied.  "That's a trait we like to see in Were-cats, because it doesn't show up very often."
	"We're not heartless, Sarraya!" Shayle objected.
	"You're not friendly either," Sarraya said, unperturbed.  "If you weren't so contrary, we wouldn't be so suspicious of you."
	"If you weren't so suspicious, we wouldn't be so contrary!" Shayle shot back, standing up and looming over the tiny Faerie.  "If you didn't notice, we don't react well to people that don't like us."
	Triana returned with a tray of sweet rolls, covered with a sweet honey icing.  "Children," she said calmly, setting it down beside Sarraya, "let's not be nasty.  Sarraya is our guest."
	"Yes, mother," Shayle growled, sitting back down grumpily.
	Tarrin mused staring at the Faerie.  The roll was nearly as large as she was.  What would it be like to go through life when one was so small?  She was the size of a doll.  Well, he reasoned, he did have something of an idea of that.  He lived for nearly three months as a cat, and his cat form was only a little taller than she was.  Larger than her, but at about the same eye level.  She sat down on the table, cross-legged, and hauled one of the rolls over next to her, then she began to eat.  He watched her eat, and he was astounded.  She nearly ate the entire roll!  It was almost as big as she was, yet she managed to eat more than half of it!  Where did the food go?  It didn't show on her.  Her belly wasn't distended or swollen.  It was almost like it vanished.
	"Keep staring at me, and I'm going to throw this at you," the Faerie warned.
	"I'm sorry, I'm just trying to get used to you," he said quickly.  "I've never seen anyone quite like you before."
	"Give him some slack, Sarraya," Triana said mildly.  "He's never seen a Faerie before.  You are rather interesting."
	"I think my brother marvels at your ability to eat, Faerie," Allia said boldly.  "You ate nearly half your own body weight, yet it does not show."
	Sarraya winked.  "Don't apply human or Selani norms to me," she chided.  "You should know better.  If you really have to know, we Faerie have very fast metabolisms.  Flying is alot of work, so we have to eat alot and often to keep in flying trim."
	"I guess that makes sense," Tarrin said after a moment.
	"I'm so glad you approve," she teased.
	"She reminds me of Faalken," Allia remarked.
	"I was about to say the same thing," Tarrin agreed.
	"Faalken?" Sarraya asked.
	"A Knight," Allia answered.  "Well known for his pranks and sense of humor."
	"I don't see anything wrong with that," Sarraya grinned.  "Life requires us to laugh at it."
	Tarrin wandered away from the others after enjoying the sweet pastry, going back into the room with the portrait of the Eastern man.  Accepted.  It felt a little strange to know that he no longer had to fear the Were-cats, or worry about Fae-da'Nar.  A good portion of his recent past was tied up with them, from his bizarre love/hate relationship with Jesmind to the touch-and-go encounters with Triana.  And the time between them was filled with a worry, a foreboding, of when they would come for him.  He had been Rogue, hunted, despised, but now a simple test had transformed him into an accepted member of their society.  That seemed illogical to him, but he discovered long ago that applying logic to Fae-da'Nar was a foolish undertaking.  Their rules were their own, and many of their customs seemed to be strange to him.  He stared at the portrait, his eyes riveted to the face of the exotic man.  He looked so serious, so august, as if he knew that his face would be seen by men and woman a world away, and wanting to make a very good impression on them.  He certainly impressed Tarrin.  The man had to be a ruler, a noble, because his carriage, expression, and the condition of his robe cried out that he was a man of importance and wealth.  Such men were often rulers, be it a ruler of a kingdom or a ruler of a large business.
	But to be accepted.  It was such a strange feeling, because he really didn't know any of the others.  Only Triana and Jesmind were familiar faces, Were-cats he knew and understood.  He really liked Triana, respected and admired her, even loved her.  Jesmind--well, Jesmind.  Jesmind was Jesmind, and there was so much emotion wrapped up with his fiery bond-mother that it was hard to sort out.  He had loved her and hated her, adored her and despised her, needed her and feared her.  Often at the same time.  Thinking of her never failed to send his mind spinning into the past, of the many images, sound, and scents he'd locked away in his memory of her.  He missed her, but on the other hand, a part of him was glad she had walked out of his life.  It had given him the strength to face up to life, to move on, and it had had a large part in the strength he had now when facing his daunting tasks.  He was now part of a larger whole, a whole that he didn't know, and didn't really trust.  He would take them one at a time, one day at a time, and just hope for the best.
	The far door opened, and through it strode a figure right out of most men's fantasies.  She was very tall, this woman, with the most exotic skin he'd ever seen.  It was coppery in shade, not dark like Azakar, not chocolate like Allia, but a strange reddish, bronzed copper hue that was totally unique.  Her hair was as black as a raven's wing, thick and long and straight, tied into a single thick tail behind her head that dangled well down her back, but with her bangs hanging raggedly over her forehead.  Her features were as exotic as her skin, with a boxy face that still managed to be quite lovely, and large green eyes that seemed to attract anyone's eyes to them because of their dark setting.  She had a wicked scar on the right side of her face, going from just under her ear and along her jawline to her chin.  She wore a leather haltar not too much unlike the haltar Sarraya had worn, a simple band of leather that went over her breasts, but it didn't start high enough to cover up her impressive cleavage.  The fact that it was laced in the front with a wide gap between the sides, exposing the majority of the inside slopes of her breasts, would drag a man's eyes down to view her buxom splendor. That majestic slope nestled a plain silver amulet hanging by a leather thong around her neck, an amulet with an arrowhead device in front of a woman's profile etched into it.  Her body was built like Jesmind's, all alluring curves and lines that were filled in with powerful muscle.  She wore a plain skirt of red cloth, a skirt that ended at her mid thigh, and was slit all the way up to her wide belt on the right side, a belt with a bronze buckle shaped like a falcon or some other raptor.  But if her shape, form, and appearance was female, blatantly female, the battered broadsword that hung off that leather belt declared to the world that this was a warrior.  Her gaze was like a hawk, taking him in with only one glance, sizing him up.  Her scent was a strangely appealing smell of musk, brass, and spice, a scent mingled with the leather of her belt, haltar and scabbard, the steel of her sword, the animal-hair smell of the skirt around her waist, and the bronze of her belt buckle.  There was also a hint of some kind of berries on her, but it emanated from her straight black hair.
	Then she smiled.  That was a strange thing.  "It took me long enough," she announced in a powerful, husky voice.
	"Long enough for what?" he asked, curiosity overriding his wariness over this stranger.
	"To find you," she replied bluntly.
	That made him nervous.  Was this another assassin, like the dangerous Jegojah?  If so, why did they send a human to do what a Doomwalker had failed twice to accomplish?  She had to be the best there was, if that was the case.  But that seemed impossible.  Her coppery skin, that face, those features, Tarrin had never seen them, but he had heard all about them more than once, and he had seen someone who shared her exotic appearance.
	Koran Dar, the Divine seat.  And Koran Dar was an Amazon.
	Was this woman a fabled Amazon, the race of warrior-women from the isles off the southern continent of Sharadar?
	If so, how did such strange females keep finding ways to come into his life?
	Don't say it, the voice of the Goddess echoed in his mind.  It was stern, and maybe just a little indignant.  Just don't say it.  And welcome your new travelling companion.
	"Her?" he said in astonishment, making her give him a sidelong look.
	I have her on loan from the Goddess of the Amazons, the voice of the Goddess answered.  Because of your, predisposition, against humans, it was decided that one more like your own mother would have a better chance of being accepted by you.  Camara Tal certainly fits that description.
	Why her? he asked silently.
	Because you lost Azakar, she replied immediately.  You needed Azakar, kitten, but now he's stuck with Keritanima.  Camara Tal will replace him for the time being.
	I don't understand, Tarrin thought helplessly.
	You can't understand, my kitten, she replied gently.  Just take it on faith.  You'll like Camara Tal, kitten.  She's alot like what you expect from a female.  Blunt, fiesty, and powerful.  Just like all the other women in your life, she added with a light cascade of laughter.  So it's not how they keep coming into your life, it's how I can find so many women who fit that very narrow image you have of compatible females.  It's all your fault, she teased.
	And then her presence was gone, leaving him feeling slightly hollow, like she had taken a little piece of him with her.
	"You're not filling me with confidence, boy," Camara Tal said dangerously.  "What are you about?"
	"Nothing, nothing," he sighed, looking at her boldly.  "That's certainly...interesting clothing."
	"Bah," she snorted.  "What is it about you northerners that makes you so uppity?"
	"From your look, you're an Amazon.  Why are you so far away from home?"
	"You are," she replied flatly.  "I was sent here by my Goddess.  She tasked me to find you, and when I did, to protect you."
	"Me?  Why me?"
	"Because my Goddess is friends with yours," she answered.  "I know who you are and what you're doing.  I was sent her to help you."
	"Then who am I?"
	"Tarrin Kael," she replied immediately and without wavering.  "Unless things have changed, you're holed up here with your bond-mother and a pack of other Were-cats.  You also have a Selani, a Knight, a Sorceress, and an Initiate here with you.  I was told that all I had to do to earn your confidence was tell you the name Janette.  Am I far off the mark?"
	Tarrin gaped at her.  Nobody except his sisters, his birth parents, Dolanna, and the Goddess knew about Janette.  It was a secret he kept very secret, because his attachment to her could give his enemies a way to strike at him without him being able to do anything about it.  "Uh, no, not anymore," he replied uncertainly.
	"I don't have time for these games, stripling," she said cooly.  "I was sent here to keep your head on your body, and I take my job seriously.  I was also sent here to help you in your mission, any way I can, and I intend to do that too.  Where do we start?"
	Tarrin was a bit taken aback by this abrupt stranger.  "Start?  We're not doing much of anything right now," he replied.  "Just waiting."
	"For what?  I don't have much time, and it looks like I have alot to catch up on."
	"I think we'd better talk to Dolanna first," he said.
	"Dolanna?  The Sorceress?"
	Tarrin nodded.  Whoever told her about him had given her some thorough information.
	Triana appeared in the other doorway, and suddenly Tarrin felt like he was caught between two mastiffs.  The two women immediately stared at each other, and he wasn't sure if they were going to start fighting right then and there.  But then Triana did the strangest thing.
	She smiled.
	"It's been a long time, Camara Tal," she said easily.  Tarrin stared at his bond-mother in total shock.  How did she know an Amazon?  How did the Amazon that Triana knew end up here?
	This had the Goddess' hands all over it.  He was positive.
	"It certainly has, Triana," the Amazon replied.  "I didn't know he was yours."
	"You know about him?"
	"My Mistress sent me here to protect him," she told the Were-cat elder.
	"How do you know her?" Tarrin blurted.
	"I met Camara about ten years ago," Triana replied calmly.  "In Dayis.  It was a chance meeting, but we managed to get along well enough."
	"I didn't know she was Were until the day before I left," Camara Tal finished.  "I thought she was human."
	"Why did you come all the way up here over him?" Triana inquired.
	"He's got the attention of alot of people on him, Triana," she replied.  "He's not just a Mi'Shara, he's the Mi'Shara.  Anyone who hasn't figured that out yet is so far behind that they don't matter anymore."
	"Tarrin is the Mi'Shara?" Triana asked in surprise.
	Camara Tal simply nodded.
	He had heard that term only a few times before, but he couldn't remember exactly when and where, or what it meant.  "What does that mean?" he asked in concern.
	"It means, cub, that your life is in serious danger," Triana said gruffly.  "Mi'Shara is a term in the langauge of the Ancients that's used to describe non-human Sorcerers.  Its literal meaning is he wh