and serenity, of the fullness and perfection of life uncluttered by human whims and wants.  The purity of instinct, unfettered by the human taint that infected the Were-kin.  Part human, part animal, both yet neither, the light of the White Moon washed away the turmoil that upset his life, made him feel harmony.
	At least sometimes.  He couldn't hear the song unless he was calm and at peace, but when life made little sense to him, it was there to provide a little comfort, to help him find his path by easing his fears.
	Strange.  Now that he thought of it, the moons sang to him the same way that Miranda did.  How could she have such an effect on him?  After all, she was just a Wikuni, a person.  What could she have to do with the song of the moons?  He blinked and leaned down against the rail, putting his chin on his furred forearms, staring out into the sea.  It was fainter from her, but it was there, that same sweet song that lulled him, placated him, made him want to be near her.  He could remember it clearly, and it felt the same way as it did when he looked at the moons.  He had always wondered at it, why he had such an infatuation with her.  He had never associated her with the moons before, but now that he did, it was a perfect match.  It was strange.  It was unnatural.
	He remembered when he thought she was dead, when he touched her and felt the spark of life inside.  He had healed her, nearly killing himself in the process.  He had touched her soul then, and though he had very vague memory of it, he could remember the blazing purity he had found within her.  A power of tremendous magnitude, a power untapped.  A power that seemed out of place in a Wikuni, a power of soul that transcended mortal constraints.
	Tarrin's ears picked up, and he stood straight up.  No!  It couldn't be!
	"Goddess!" he gasped.  "Miranda's not a Wikuni!"
	Miranda was an Avatar!
	An Avatar, a direct mortal manifestation of the power of a god!
	That's right, the Goddess' voice spoke to his mind, filling him with the sweet feeling of her presence and making his soul reach out to her.  Miranda is more than she seems.  I have told you that before, kitten.  I'm a bit disappointed that it took you this long to figure it out.
	Tarrin was stunned.  He stood there for a moment.  "Why didn't she tell me?" he demanded.
	Because she doesn't know, the Goddess replied.  Miranda is a Wikuni, my kitten.  She has parents, and a childhood, and a life.  But where her mother is the bearer of her body, Kikkali is the bearer, the mother, of her soul.  Kikkali could see where the fates would take Keritanima, so she prepared a special companion for her, a woman of exceptional gifts to complement your sister and provide her with a stabilizing influence.  Miranda doesn't have any supernatural powers.  She's as frail and fragile as any mortal, and in time, she will grow old and die.  Probably without ever knowing just what she is.  But the breath of Kikkali is inside her, and it's something that you could sense.  Kikkali is one of the gods that control the skies, my kitten.  She's one of Shellar's servants.  That's why Miranda sings to you, because within her is a fragment of the allure that the moons hold for Were-kin.  That Miranda soothed and benefitted you as well as Keritanima was simply a fortunate happenstance.
	He was a bit overwhelmed.  All that time, he was begging for attention from a goddess!
	Miranda is not a goddess, kitten, the Goddess chided.  She is mortal, just as mortal as you.  Even if Kikkali had not touched her soul, she would have been born.  The only thing that makes her different is that she has the mark of the gods on her, a mark that helped her develop just a bit more than those around her.  It's why she's so intelligent for someone so young.  Had Miranda not been blessed by Kikkali, she would have developed much differently than she did.  Don't define her as an Avatar, kitten, because you don't understand its true meaning.  Think of her as touched by the gods instead.
	"Then what is its true meaning?" he asked.
	I don't give answers to questions when you already know the answer, came the cryptic reply.
	He swallowed.  "Am, am I an Avatar?"
	No, she replied.  People like you are not Avatars.  We are not allowed to interfere with the development of the world, and it would be interference if we placed agents in the world in a position like yours.  Everything you have done has been of your own free will, unfettered by a touch from beyond that could have influenced your actions.  You, Allia, Keritanima, you are as you are, and you are as you would have been no matter what.  Your actions are what defines the world, and we may not interfere with them.  We may only try to influence them through wisdom, deception, intimidation, or chicanery.
	Tarrin had to laugh.  "Chicanery?"
	Some gods use that, she admitted.  I've had to trick you into doing some things, kitten.  You're very stubborn.
	"Like what?" he asked curiously.
	Oh, no, she laughed in a silvery cascade.  I'm not tipping my hand.  I may need to use it again if you start drifting off the path.
	He'd allow her that.  Sometimes he was too stubborn for his own good.  Her definition of Miranda eased him a little.  If Miranda didn't know what she was, then it seemed to meld a little better to him.  He looked at her as someone who wasn't different, only blessed.  Miranda was Miranda.  That she'd been blessed by one of the Wikuni gods shouldn't matter.  Everyone had to have been blessed at some point in their lives, Miranda was different only because she was blessed before she was born.  He realized that it wouldn't change things.  He wouldn't tell her what he knew, because he wouldn't confuse her.  She would always be his friend.  He loved her.  But at least now he understood why she was so interesting to him.
	Feel better now? the Goddess asked sweetly.
	"I guess," he replied.  "It's a little much to take to find out that one of your best friends is so special."
	We are all special in one way or another, kitten.  It is what makes us all individuals.  Have you made your peace with yourself over Camara Tal?
	"She really made me mad, Goddess, but I don't think she did it on purpose."  He leaned on the rail again, looking out over the sea.  "I still don't understand what made her do that."
	Well, kitten, she has talked to the others about you, and she understands you.  You have been injured many times in the past, and if you stop to think about it, every single time that happened, you lost your temper.  She was trying to teach you that losing your temper is more dangerous to you than it is to your opponent.  Even more so now than it was before, because of your penchant to use Sorcery when enraged.
	"I know that.  I'm more interested in that Allia snapped me out of it.  That's never happened before."
	It has, but you don't remember it.  Allia was the one who brought you back in the Cathedral of Karas.  She holds a special place in your heart, kitten, and that gives her the power to control your rage.
	"I realized that."  He sighed.  "Well?"
	Well what?
	"Isn't this when you say something that makes me think for three days and then leave?"
	Tarrin was surprised when he heard her long cascading laughter emanate through him, shivering his soul in the strangest way.  It's time like these that make me treasure you so much, my sweet kitten, she said jubilantly.  But I do need to go.  And if you don't want to suffer through learning, then stop calling me, she added winsomely.
	"I never did."
	You did so.  You said, and I quote, "Goddess, Miranda's not a Wikuni!"
	"You answered to that?"
	Of course I did, silly, she chuckled in reply.  I always keep an ear out for you, my kitten.  If you call me, I will hear.  I may not respond, but I will hear it.  I am never more than a call away from you.
	"You make it sound like I have you on a leash."
	She laughed again.  In a strange way, you do, she replied.  But I don't do tricks.
	"We'll see."
	That made her laugh again.  Be well, my sweet one.  We'll speak again later.
	And then she was gone, taking a little piece of his soul with her, making him feel peculiarly empty inside.
	Tarrin looked up at the sky, at the moons.  He could hear the song, feel it in his soul, but now he associated it with Miranda, and that made him think about his friends in Wikuna.  It conjured up images and memories of Keritanima and Miranda, of Azakar and Kerri's indomitable protectors, Binter and Sisska.  Good friends, dear friends, far far away.  He missed them.  He missed Keritanima's sharp wit and quick smiles.  He missed Miranda's calm, unruffled ways and her soothing presence.  He missed Azakar's quiet curiosity, how the big man would silently watch and learn.  He missed the powerful security of Binter and Sisska, ever present and always making them all feel safer.  He yearned for the time before, when it was him and Allia and Keritanima, siblings by bonds of soul and brand, sealed to one another.  Those were good times, and he had squandered so much of it with his quiet brooding.  So much time lost, because he was so afraid of himself that he wouldn't open up to his sisters.  But there would be more good times.  Keritanima wouldn't be in Wikuna forever, and she could find them easily when she was ready to return.  He just had to hang on until she arrived, keep from killing himself and keeping enemies like Kravon and Jegojah off his back until she could find her way back to him.
	He held his amulet gingerly, wanting to call out to Keritanima, wanting to hear her voice, but worried that others would hear.  Worried that she would be asleep, worried that him bothering her would interrupt whatever dishonest deeds she was perpetrating there.  No, it would be best if she contacted him, because he wasn't in quite such a position of danger, should a voice suddenly issue forth from his amulet.  He could wait.  Tarrin was a very patient person when it came to some things.
	He looked up at the moons, his soul surrendering to the song it sang to him, staring up at its white perfection.  But now an image of Miranda seemed to lay over the surface of the White Moon, an image of a dear friend, smiling down on him with her cheeky grin and making him feel wonderfully secure.  
	And giving him hope for the future.

	They spotted the first strip of desert two days later, off the port bow.  It was what Renoit said was the Sand Fingers, extensions of sand-covered rock that extended from the shoreline like the fingers of a titanic hand.  That geographical landmark was vital to most ships, because it meant that Saranam, the capital city of the small kingdom of the same name, was only half a day out.  Saranam was the kingdom created to put a buffer between Arak and the Selani, a narrow strip of kingdom that separated the two distrustful groups.  It had evolved into a miniature Wikuna, a small nation of sharp traders that had made a name for itself in the few hundred years it had been in existence.
	The two days had been uneventful.  He was still too angry to deal with Camara Tal, so Dolanna made sure that the Amazon was nowhere near him at all times.  She stayed on the sterncastle or off the deck when he was above, and stayed out of his room when he was below.  It was a cooling-off time for him, something with which Dolanna was all too familiar, and she knew exactly how to arrange it so he wasn't tempted.  He spent nearly all that time either with Allia or Dar, finding solace in the presence of his sister or passing time with the only other person close to his own age.  Dar was younger than him, and only came up to his ribcage, but he was a good solid friend that always made the time go by quickly with conversation or games.  Tarrin usually had alot on his mind, but just as he did with Allia, he didn't let Dar forget that they were friends.  Just as he set aside special time each evening to devote to his sister, he started putting aside the time between Dar's lesson and his practice for the circus to spend with him.
	Tarrin and Dar stood at the rail, watching the longest-reaching finger go by as the performers went about their daily routines of practice and sailing.  He had learned to tune them out some time ago, making him feel that he was alone on deck.  And that helped his mood, because he didn't like people staring at him or flinching from him when he approached.  The young Arkisian had just come from another long discussion with Phandebrass, and he had one of the drakes with him.  Tarrin could finally tell them apart, if only by scent, so he knew that it was Chopstick that stood on the back of the young man's neck, forepaws on the top of his head, looking out with them.  Tarrin and the drakes had reached a mutual understanding.  He wouldn't attack them so long as they didn't bother him.  They didn't pester him for attention as they did Allia, but they wouldn't flee from him anymore.  Turnkey, the one he saved, would even land on his shoulder and let him pet it from time to time.
	"So what did that mage have to say this time?" Tarrin asked.  Dar had been going to Phandebrass after his instruction with Dolanna for a while now, learning things about science that they didn't teach in the Tower.  Phandebrass was a mage, but he was also a scholar, and his scope of knowledge was impressive.
	"We talked about light," he replied.  "I didn't know it could be so complicated."
	"With Phandebrass, everything is complicated," Tarrin replied.  "I think he goes out of his way to murk things up, so they can fit into his idea of the way things should be."
	"Who knows?" Dar chuckled.  "He showed me a piece of glass called a prism.  When you hold it at the right angle to the sun, it refracts the sunlight and breaks it up into its components.  Did you know that light is made up of seven different colors?  And that they're the same colors as what's on the shaeram?"
	"No, I didn't.  And they probably just used the colors of light when they created the order."
	"That doesn't explain why the Spheres show up as the same colors," he challenged.  "Maybe Sorcery and light are related somehow, for them to break down in the exact same manner."
	"Now you sound like Phandebrass," Tarrin noted dryly.  "If light is seven colors, why can't we see them?"
	"Because they mix together, and that makes it look white," he replied.
	"Then why is the sky blue instead of white?"
	"I asked the same thing.  He said that the sunlight hits the air at an angle that makes the air absorb or reflect away most of the other colors, making the sky appear to be blue.  And when it's sunrise or sunset, the sun strikes the air at a different angle, which makes it look a different color."
	"Strange.  That sounds like it almost makes sense.  But if the sky absorbs everything but blue, why doesn't everything look blue?"
	"He said that the sky's color is just the light that got affected.  We can't see all the other light, because it never reaches our eyes.  Who knows what color the sky would be if we could see all the light at once?"
	"He knows how to cover all the angles," Tarrin chuckled.
	"It does make sense," Dar said defensively.
	"Sorta, but I don't see why you'd be so curious about light.  After all, it's just here.  What good does it do to know how it works?"
	"Because I like to know how things work," he stated.  "I don't just accept everything the way you do."
	"Call it a cat thing," he replied blandly.
	"You still mad at Camara Tal?" he asked curiously.
	"A little, but I'll get over it," he replied.
	"I think she tries too hard," he noted.  "She wants to be your friend, but she keeps trying to make it happen.  Maybe she should just step back and let it happen."
	"That would be good advice," Tarrin said with a nod.  He looked at Dar closely.  "I think it's about time for you to start shaving, Dar.  You're getting fuzzy."
	"I know," he replied, rubbing his cheek.  "Phandebrass promised he'd show me how to do it.  I can't ask you.  I don't think you can grow a beard.  Did you shave before it happened?"
	"No, I can't," he replied.  "I guess it's not in a Were-cat.  And I did for about six months, but I was never very good at it.  I guess it's a good thing I don't have a beard, because it would probably grow as fast as my hair.  I'd have a braid on both sides."
	Dar laughed.  "That would look strange."
	"No doubt there.  Why not ask Faalken to show you instead of Phandebrass?  The mage'll probably make it a four hour lecture."
	"Trust Faalken with something like that?  Are you crazy?  He'd put ink in my washwater!"
	Tarrin laughed.  "He probably would," he agreed.  "Maybe you should ask him, then make him use your washwater first."
	Dar grinned.  "He's too cagey for that, Tarrin.  I'd never get him."
	"Never hurts to try."
	"It would when he'd get impatient and just dump it over my head.  Faalken cheats."
	"True."  He looked at the sand of the finger, knowing that they'd be in Saranam by sunset.  Saranam.  Dry land, and if Phandebrass had been good for one thing, it was that Tarrin now had a better understanding of the Doomwalker.  He had the nagging feeling that Jegojah would be in Saranam waiting for him.  It seemed to be able to track him down, knowing where he was or where he was going, so it wasn't much of a stretch to assume that the Doomwalker would be there to greet him when he arrived.  Triana hadn't destroyed it, only defeated it.  So it was still out there.
	But thanks to Phandebrass, now Tarrin knew what had to be done to make it go away for a long time.  It had to be destroyed, utterly destroyed, just as he had done to it in Suld so long ago.  But using Sorcery was out of the question now, and Dolanna or the others didn't have the power.  But he'd seen exactly what he needed to see to come up with a plan to get rid of Jegojah for a while, and that was what Sarraya did to that man during the fight.  If she could decay him to dust, he thought that she could attack the Doomwalker in exactly the same manner.  Since it was already dead, it may go even faster than that man did.  He hadn't asked her yet, but that was something he was going to do.  Tarrin didn't trust Sarraya, so the idea of asking her for help seemed wrong.  The idea of turning his back on the sprite while she was using magic made his fur shimmy, but this was one situation where his misgivings had to step back.  His survival was on the line, for Jegojah was one opponent that Tarrin afforded tremendous respect.  The Doomwalker was more than capable of killing him, because it was stronger than him, faster than him, more experienced than him, and it could use powerful magic where Tarrin could not.  Against Jegojah, no advantage would be thrown aside, no matter how it made him feel.
	"What's got you all quiet?" Dar asked.
	"Thinking of Saranam," he replied.  "Odds are, that Doomwalker is going to be there waiting for us."
	"You don't know that, Tarrin.  Triana killed it."
	"She killed it, but she didn't destroy it.  Phandebrass said that it has to be completely destroyed to make it stop."
	"We should talk to Dolanna then."
	"I already intend to, Dar.  I have a plan."
	"Why don't we go do that now?"
	"Because Dolanna is up on the steering deck with Renoit and the Amazon," he replied with a grunt.  "I don't think I'm quite ready to get that close to her yet."
	The buzzing of Sarraya's wings heralded her approach.  She landed lightly on Tarrin's shoulder and sat down sedately.  "I heard the tail end of that, Tarrin.  Why don't you go ask Dolanna to come here, Dar?"
	"I think that would be a good idea," Dar agreed.  "Be right back."
	"Afternoon," the sprite said , patting him on the shoulder.  "Feeling better?"
	"A little," he replied.  "I need to ask a favor of you, Sarraya."
	"A favor, from me?  Merciful Forestmaster, keep my heart beating!  What is it?"
	"In the fight with the pirates, you killed a man and turned him to dust.  Can you do that to things that are already dead?"
	She was quiet a moment.  "Sure, but why would I want to?" she asked.  "The average corpse isn't much of a safety threat, unless you count diseases."
	"Because the dead man you're going to use it against isn't completely dead," he replied.
	"The Doomwalker?"
	"Yes," he affirmed.  "I have the feeling that it's going to be in Saranam waiting for us.  I'd like to have a plan ready to destroy it, like Phandebrass told me.  That'll give us some time without worrying about it following us around."
	"Now you're thinking straight!" Sarraya beamed.  "It's about time you realized that we're a team, cub.  We're stronger as a whole than the sum of our individual parts."
	"Teamwork is against a Were-cat's instinct."
	"I know.  That's why it's so much more impressive that you thought about it all by yourself," she said impishly.  "Don't you worry, cub.  Together, there's nothing that we can't beat."
	Dolanna arrived, with Faalken and Phandebrass trailing along behind her.  Phandebrass was engaged in a deep debate with the Knight over some kind of weird talk about metal, but he fell silent when Dolanna spoke.  "You wished to see me, dear one?" she asked, looking up at him.  Sometimes Tarrin forgot how diminutive Dolanna was.  She was a bit short, even for a human woman.  It was her manner and bearing that made her seem ten spans tall.
	"Tarrin here finally opened his eyes," Sarraya said with a laugh.
	"Sarraya," Tarrin cut her off.  "I have the feeling that the Doomwalker is going to be in Saranam waiting for us, Dolanna.  I really don't want to face it by myself again, so I was thinking that maybe we could make up a plan to deal with it if it does show up."  He reached up and nudged the tiny sprite on his shoulder.  "This little pain in my neck knows a spell that decays flesh and bone.  I was thinking maybe we could work a way so she could use it against Jegojah without putting her in too much danger."
	"Danger?" Sarraya scoffed.  "I think you underestimate me, cub."
	"A Doomwalker is nothing to take lightly, Faerie," Dolanna said seriously.  "Saranam is a city with few stone buildings, and the streets are unpaved.  There is little chance to trick the Doomwalker onto stone a third time, so we will have to face it when it stands upon the earth.  So caution is only wise."
	"What difference does that make?" Sarraya asked.
	"Doomwalkers can draw energy from the earth," Phandebrass answered.  "They use it to heal their injuries, and it increases the power of their magical attacks.  I say, fighting a Doomwalker that stands on the earth is a very dangerous undertaking.  And since the only way to be rid of it is to completely destroy it, that means that we have to be very careful.  Very careful indeed.  I say, I know a few spells that may help.  I really need to go study them."
	Phandebrass turned to walk away, but Faalken grabbed him by the arm.  "I think studying your spells would be a good idea after you hear what we're going to do, wizard," he remarked.
	"True, true," he said with a slightly befuddled smile.  "I say, maybe I should wait a bit."
	"And get the others.  This will be a team effort, so we must all be present to understand the plan," Dolanna said.  "Dar, go get Allia and Camara Tal."
	"Certainly, Dolanna," the young Arkisian said, then he scurried off.
	Tarrin felt his temper rise as the Amazon approached him, but he quelled it in the interest of survival.  They would need everyone to do this.  Tarrin had fought the Doomwalker twice before, and it had nearly killed him both times.  This time, he would be facing it on ground of its choosing, where it would be even stronger.  That was something that he didn't want to face by himself.  Though it would put his friends in danger, they stood a better chance of defeating Jegojah if they worked together, rather than Tarrin running off to face it alone.  Allia arrived with Dar a moment later, the Selani carrying the other drake in her arms.  Dar had obviously told her what was going on, and Dolanna quickly explained to Camara Tal why they were meeting, repeating Tarrin's idea of using the Faerie's powerful Druidic spell to try to destroy the Doomwalker.
	Phandebrass picked up Chopstick absently as Faalken leaned against the rail beside Tarrin.  "I say, your idea to use the Faerie's decaying attack is a good idea, but it may not work," the mage announced.  "When the Doomwalker stands on the earth, its magical powers are amplified by a huge degree.  It may have the power to resist the magic."
	"So, you have an idea," Tarrin noted.
	"If you're facing a strong opponent, you weaken him before you go for the kill," Faalken said simply.  "Simply put, we wear Jegojah out.  When he's tired, then Sarraya attacks him with that spell."
	"You're talking about engaging a Doomwalker in a protracted battle, Knight," Camara Tal said bluntly.  "How many of us does it have to kill before it gets tired?"
	"That is a good point," Dolanna sighed.  "This Doomwalker is a powerful foe.  Even together, it is still a very deadly opponent for us to face."
	"What do you suggest, Amazon?" Faalken retorted.  "If Sarraya gets whacked, then it's all out the window.  We have one chance, so we have to make sure it works."
	"I don't whack easily, Faalken," Sarraya objected.  "I may be small, but I'm tough."
	"He's not saying you're incapable of it, he's saying that the caliber of the opponent makes such an attack a very risky proposition," Phandebrass said thoughtfully, all hints of the fuddled confusion gone from his voice.  "We have to weaken the Doomwalker, but in such a way that it minimizes our own danger."  Phandebrass rubbed his chin, looking down at the deck.  "What we have to do is figure out how to go about this."
	"That seems pretty straightforward, mage," Camara Tal said.  "Even if it can draw energy from the earth, it can't do it forever.  Especially if we're giving it something else to think about."
	"Yes yes yes, but we must decide how we are going to weaken him," Phandebrass said.
	"The most effective way would be to deny it the earth," Dolanna said.  "A large patch of sand would block its powers, and we could conceivably lure it to one of them."
	"You think we can lure it that far from the city?" Camara Tal asked.  "From what I remember, Saranam is on grassland, not desert."
	"Yes, but there is more to the city than the grass on which it stands," Dolanna said.
	"Not quite, Dolanna," Phandebrass mused.  "Camara Tal raises a valid point.  There isn't any sand to use to do that, so we must ask ourselves what the best alternative is."
	"What do you mean?" Dolanna asked.
	"What is it about stone that makes the Doomwalker incapable of drawing energy through it?" he asked.  "Dar, my boy, you should know the answer to this."
	"Me?  Why do you think that?"
	"Remember when we talked about trees?  Trees don't live just on sunshine and water, my boy.  Why do they need soil?"
	"Oh, I remember!" he said.  "There's organic material in soil that the trees use as food!"
	"Exactly.  Doomwalkers draw energy from the earth because they're tapping into the life energy of the land.  They are literally draining the land of its life energy.  They can even drain living beings of their energy, if they can hold onto them long enough.  They need that organic spark in the earth to provide them with a conduit to that energy source.  That's why they can't draw through stone.  It lacks that organic catalyst."
	"That's why the Goddess told me it had to be on stone," Tarrin said, mainly to himself.  "She specifically told me that it couldn't be wood, and now I understand why."
	"Wood is organic, even if it is dead," Phandebrass answered for him.  "So, if we can't lure it onto stone, we bring the stone to it."
	"What are you talking about?"
	"Sarraya, my dear, you're a Druid.  Do you think you can completely leech all the organic material out of a patch of clear ground?"
	Sarraya laughed.  "Phandebrass, you're not half as zany as I thought you were!" she complemented.  "Of course I can!  We have spells to make barren ground fertile.  I can just reverse that.  It should suck all the life-giving qualities out of the soil.  It'll be as barren as dust."
	"So, we lure it into an open area.  Tarrin, my boy, you make the perfect bait for that.  It's after you, so it will come after you first.  If we discover it to be in the area, Tarrin finds a good place away from the city, a place where we can hide nearby but the Doomwalker can't detect us.  Tarrin draws it to him, then we allow them to start a fight."
	"What?" Camara Tal said hotly.  "I forbid it!  You're not risking Tarrin's neck over this, mage!"
	"You didn't let me finish," he said indignantly.  "I said we allow them to start a fight.  The Doomwalker's already been beaten twice, so it's not going to commit unless it thinks that it's got an overwhelming advantage."
	"That's a good tactic," Faalken agreed reluctantly.  "If it thinks it has the advantage, it's going to fight.  We make it commit, then Sarraya destroys the soil and bars it from drawing energy.  Since it will be committed, it should be a little disorganized over losing its advantage, and Tarrin can keep it pinned until we can have it surrounded.  Then it'll be a matter of wearing it down to where Sarraya can decay it."
	"Carefully.  Even without a link to the earth, a Doomwalker is a very dangerous foe," Dolanna said.  "Just ask Tarrin."
	Tarrin nodded emphatically.
	"It won't be easy, but it'll be better than just laying waste to half of Saranam trying to destroy it," Faalken said.  "Can anyone think of anything else?"
	"My brother will not face it alone," Allia said adamantly.  "I will stand with him."
	"Sister--"
	"Enough!" she said.  "You have dishonored me by denying my place at your side one time too many, brother," she said with steel in her voice.  "We are brother and sister in all but blood.  You are of the Clan, and one of the Clan does not face danger alone.  We are one.  You will not go alone."
	"Maybe they don't need us after all," Camara Tal snorted with a slight smile.
	"Why do you say that?" Faalken asked.
	"I've seen them fight seperately.  I wouldn't fight them together for all the money in the world."  She tossed her raven tail of hair back over her shoulder.  "They may have the Doomwalker down before the Faerie can get over there to destroy it."
	"Not quite," Dolanna said.  "Doomwalkers can only be harmed by magical weapons.  Faalken is the only one of us fortunate to own one."
	"That's no problem, Dolanna," Phandebrass said with a smile. "I know a spell that plac