 after the Blood War, by what was left of the Valkari empire," she replied.  "They were magically engineered by the wizards there, who were trying to create a race of slave warriors that could protect them from the Mahuut natives, who had revolted against them.  They succeeded in creating a powerful race, but hadn't counted on the fact that that creation had made the Vendari as intelligent as their creators.  What was even worse was that their magical creations displayed a powerful resistance to magic, and could breed to increase their numbers.  The Vendari rose up along with the Mahuut and helped crush the Valkari empire, overthrew their creators and established the Vendari homelands, that remain there to this day."
	"I've never heard that before."
	"I'd be surprised if you had," she replied winsomely.
	"What about us?  And what about the Wikuni?"
	"The beings of Fae-da'Nar were created over time, by the magic of the world," she replied.  "Magic had a hand in all of your creations, often altering existing animals in magical ways to produce a sentient result.  Would it offend you to know that your race evolved from common housecats, Tarrin?"
	"No, not really, Mother," he replied.  "It would explain everything, actually."
	"It does, doesn't it?" she agreed.  "The Aeradalla are also magical beings, but they evolved from humans, not animals."
	"But what about the Wikuni?  You didn't say where they came from."
	"As a matter of fact, I did.  You weren't listening."
	Tarrin blinked.  She never mentioned the Wikuni.  All she said was what happened to the Urzani after--
	--Some Urzani built ships, then sailed into the Western Sea and disappeared!
	"No!" Tarrin said in disbelief.  "The Wikuni are descendents of the Urzani?" he gasped.
	"That's right, my kitten," the Goddess chuckled.  "The gods of the Wikuni drew the then-Urzani to them, and once they arrived in their new homeland, the gods there worked their power on them to change them.  They altered their appearance and scoured the memory of the Urzani language and customs out of them, literally forming an entirely new race, with its own culture.  Since those Urzani had been adventurous people, and happened to be mainly the upper stock of Urzani society, they evolved into a race of intelligent merchants with an almost obsessive bent for intrigue.  The Wikuni have absolutely no idea that they are direct descendents of the Urzani, and that they're related to the Selani."
	Tarrin was shocked.  He never dreamed that the Wikuni had such an unusual beginning!  They were originally the same race as Allia, and that Sha'Kar woman!
	No, not Sha'Kar.  Urzani!
	Now he remembered her!  He'd heard of her in stories.  That Urzani woman who had goaded him into claiming his full power was Spyder!
	"Correct again," the Goddess smiled down on him.  "She is my oldest, most loyal servant."
	"She has to be at least five thousand years old!" Tarrin gasped.
	"Actually, she's closer to ten thousand," the Goddess replied dryly.  "Spyder was alive during the Age of Dynasty.  In fact, she was once the Empress." the Goddess laughed.  "She wasn't a very good Empress, however."
	That revelation boggled his mind so completely that he had to simply stop thinking about it.
	"Now you may understand why Keritanima and Allia can use Sorcery.  The ability has been suppressed in the other two branches of the Urzani line, but in Allia and Keritanima that ability has been reborn.  In the beginning, only the Humans and that nameless parent race had the spark to be Sorcerers.  All of their children retain that spark.  And now that you are Were, the spark of Sorcery has been introduced into the Were-cat line.  All of your children have the potential to be Sorcerers, just like their father."
	Tarrin had to drastically realign his concept of the world.  So many races, and they were all related in some way to some other race.  It made the world seem much smaller than before.

	It had been an eye-opening tale.  The Goddess had never shared such obscure knowledge with him before, and in a way he felt privileged to hover there in her presence and hear the story of the origins of his sisters.  It was strange to know that his own kind hadn't been one of the beginning sentient races, and neither were the Vendari.
	It made him wonder at it, wonder why the Goblins faded away, and why their progeny were so violent and less technologically advanced.  It made him wonder if all the Dwarves really were gone; after all, what if some of them fled across the sea, like the ancestors of the Wikuni?  What if there were still Dwarven clans hiding in the mountains, as they had done after the Urzani conquered the world?  And what of the Sha'Kar?  Were they all truly gone, or were some of them hiding in some distant land, maybe the Utter East, or one of the dark continents beyond the Known World?  The Humans and the Wikuni couldn't have been the only ones to set off for unknown places, to seek out new places to live.  The Dwarves and Gnomes, the Sha'Kar and maybe even some of the original Urzani, maybe they too had had ancestors set out for some distant frontier and lose contact with the rest of the world.  They could still be there, living their lives, unaware of the happenings in the Known World, or perhaps not wishing to know.
	Tarrin twisted the manacle on his wrist absently, wincing as a burr on the underside pulled at the shaggy fetlock.  He really had to do something about that.
	"I think I see someone coming," Var announced as he returned from his hunt.  Tarrin stood up, towering over the Selani Scout, looking in the direction he pointed, up into the sky.  The light was bright, too bright to see clearly, so he bent down and donned the sun-dimming visor he kept near to him at all times.  Var had an umuni hanging from a spear that Sarraya had Conjured for him, that night's dinner, and the smell of it made Tarrin's stomach growl.  Var's incredible eyesight had indeed scouted out the two flying figures, two Aeradalla, some longspans away but flying in their direction.
	It was about time.
	"That's them," Tarrin agreed, taking off the violet visor and setting it on the ground beside him.
	"Then the camp, we break it tomorrow, yes?" Jegojah asked from where he was training Denai.
	Tarrin nodded.  "This is all I was waiting for.  We move tomorrow, and we're not going slow."
	"Then the morning, we will part then, yes," the Revenant said.  "Jegojah, he has his own mission now, yes.  Kravon's blood sings to Jegojah, yes, and Jegojah must go and spill it."
	"May all the gods bless you in your endeavor, Jegojah," Tarrin said seriously.  "Remember to stick him a few times for me."
	"Jegojah, he will cut off the vile Wizard's hands, just for ye," the Revenant cackled.
	It was about sunset when the two Aeradalla landed.  Ariana looked much better now, in a pair of clean breeches, soft leather boots, and a haltar embroidered with a drake hanging from her shoulders.  She also wore a golden circlet over her head, entwined into her blue hair.  The male Aeradalla looked much as Tarrin remembered, ruggedly handsome and much healthier now that he had been freed from the Crown's hypnotic allure.  His skin was healthy, his muscles again strong and defined, and the pasty gauntness had been replaced by a healthy bronzed glow common for beings who lived their lives under the sun.  His white-gold hair was tied back in a tail, clean and healthy now, framing a handsome face that filled out to show a young man with promising potential.  Calm green eyes stared up at Tarrin, the eyes of a man of power.
	But Tarrin was not put off by such men.  He stared down at the smaller Aeradalla without expression, sizing the man up.  A strong man, strong-willed.  Ariana was right.  This was a king that could retake his power from the men who had stripped it from him while he was ill.
	The two of them looked around, and both stared quite a while at Jegojah.  But the Revenant said nothing, simply standing off to the side with Denai, both of their weapons drawn.  But they shook that off eventually, coming up to Tarrin.
	"Tarrin," Ariana smiled, "may I present Andos, King of the Aeradalla.  Your Majesty, this is Tarrin, the man who saved your life."
	"He's alot taller than you said, Ari," Andos said, craning his neck to look up into Tarrin's eyes.
	"I told you he was tall, Andy," Ariana laughed.  "You just didn't want to believe me."
	"Andy?" Tarrin asked curiously.
	"Ari and I grew up together," Andos said with a grin.  "I've never been able to get her to stop calling me that."
	Tarrin looked at Ariana, and the woman blushed slightly.
	So that was what this was about.
	"What did you need to talk to us about?" Ariana asked quickly.
	"I want to borrow about fifty of you for a while," Tarrin said bluntly.  "An army is threatening the city of Suld, and a group of Aeradalla scouts would help keep the city out of their hands."
	"That's what this is about?" Andos asked.  "We don't get involved in the affairs of the humans, Were-cat.  I appreciate you healing me, but I have to think about my people."
	"This is about your people," Tarrin told him.  "If that army takes Suld, they'll destroy the Tower of Six Spires.  That will banish the Goddess of the Sorcerers from the world, and if that happens, the Weave will tear.  That means that the magic that sustains your city will be disrupted," he said with a casual bluntness that made the Aeradalla flinch.  "I'm not asking for an army.  I only need fifty, and I don't expect any of them to fight.  All they have to do is scout."
	"You get to the point," the king of the Aeradalla said, a bit wanly.  "No casual smalltalk, not even a hello.  Right to the point."
	"It saves time," Tarrin told him.
	"How can I be sure of what you say?" he asked.  "You're out here, alone, in the desert.  How do you know all of this?"
	"You wouldn't understand."
	"If you're going to get any help out of me, you'd better make me understand," he challenged.  "I won't even put fifty of my people in danger for no reason."
	Tarrin could respect his morality, but his stubbornness was getting on his nerves, and he found himself mightily offended that the Aeradalla would think he was lying.  He had become like Triana in that regard.  Triana expected to be obeyed, if only because she was who she was.  Tarrin found himself being irritated by this Aeradalla for exactly the same reason.  Tarrin was the stronger.  He was larger, and he knew he was right.  He had fully expected the Aeradalla to submit out of hand, and it had been a bit of a surprise when he hadn't.  And the sense that the Aeradalla seemed to think that Tarrin was lying made it even worse.  Were-cats did not lie, and to even be accused of it was reason to fight to the death.  Tarrin felt his dominance to be under challenge, and that provoked him to respond.
	He drew himself up to his full, imposing height, then stared down at the much smaller Aeradalla like a parent scolding a child with his eyes.  "I'm not used to being second-guessed by anyone, so I'll give you the benefit of the doubt that your intentions are good," Tarrin told him in a strong voice.
	"What does that mean?" Andos asked, his own hackles starting to rise.
	"It means that you just avoided getting killed," Denai said lightly.
	"You're not serious!" Andos gasped.
	"Quite serious," Var agreed.
	"I don't play, Andos," Tarrin said in a flat voice.  "I'm not used to being ordered around.  I'll give you lattitude because I don't think you're used to it either, but don't question my honesty.  If I even think you're accusing me of lying, I'll rip your wings off right here and now."
	The Aeradalla paled slightly and almost took a step back.  But he held his ground.
	"I know because Jegojah over there--" he announced, pointing to the Revenant-- "has personal knowledge of what's going on.  He told me, I asked my Goddess to confirm it, and she did.  What's going on in the West is very real, very serious, and if we don't put a stop to it, it's going to cause another Breaking.  And what's worse, it will put the Firestaff in the hands of those that would use it to bring destruction to the entire world."
	Tarrin saw that he had the man's attention now, so he patiently sketched out the basics of the enemy's plan.  He watched Andos' eyes shift from surprise, to comprehension, then to horror when the ultimate goal of that plan became apparent.  "I'm not asking you to fight this war.  All I want is fifty Aeradalla to help scout out the enemy army and deliver messages too vital to be sent any other way.  Once the fighting starts, they can leave.  After all, they'll have done everything they'd been asked to do, and they wouldn't be needed anymore."
	"You give a very convincing argument," Andos said, his eyes thoughtful, traces of his fear diminishing with his comprehension of the situation.  "In fact, convincing enough for me to agree with your need.  But I'm not going to order anyone into that kind of danger.  I'll put a call out among my people for volunteers.  Anyone wishing to help can do so, but I'll not make anyone go.  Is that satisfactory?"
	"That's good enough," Tarrin agreed.
	"Well, you have one volunteer, Tarrin," Ariana broke in.  "It's the least I can do for everything you've done for me."
	Tarrin nodded in her direction.  "It's too dark for you to go back now.  You can leave in the morning."
	And then he turned and walked away from them.  He wasn't entirely sure he could be civil to Andos so long as he felt that the Aeradalla was challenging him.
	Tarrin left them to stew over him on their own, sitting by the fire and staring into its depths, absently twisting the manacle on his wrist.  He had said what he needed to say to Andos, and he didn't want to cause a scene by disemboweling a man he'd just asked for help.  That seemed slightly counter-productive.  He hadn't been quite as nice as he wanted to be, and things hadn't gone very well.  It was more reasons to be a little aggravated with himself with the way he handled his request, but there was little he could do about it now.  The moment was over, the damage was done.  All he could do now was hope that Andos was too intimidated to go back on his promise to ask for volunteers.
	Jegojah clanked to a halt and sat down by the fire beside him.  "Abrupt, ye were, yes," he told him bluntly.  Jegojah wasn't one to mince words, and Tarrin rather liked him for that.
	"He offended me," Tarrin replied.  "It was all I could do to be that civil."
	Jegojah cackled.  "A king, ye remind me of one, yes," he said.  "Always expecting obedience.  And power, ye give it off like heat from the fire, yes."
	"Call it a racial quirk," he said calmly.
	"Were-cats, they are all like ye?"
	"Not all," he replied.  "But we're all of a similar mindset.  Any Were-cat would have stripped Andos of his skin if they thought he was accusing them of lying."
	"That, it isn't the point, no," Jegojah elaborated.  "A king, ye are, Were-cat, but a king in mind only.  The regal command, it emanates from ye."
	Tarrin looked at him, then chuckled ruefully.  "If you're asking if all Were-cats are arrogant, I'd have to say yes," Tarrin told him with a dry smile.
	"Jegojah, he meant no offense, no."
	"None taken.  I guess we are a pretty arrogant lot.  Though I wouldn't call them that to their faces."
	Jegojah cackled.  "Jegojah, he thinks that that would be a bad idea, yes."  He looked up at the setting sun, setting over the abandoned ruins of the city.  "Jegojah, he thinks ye go about asking help the wrong way."
	"Probably, but I really don't want an army from the Aeradalla.  Just some scouts, to ferret out the opposition when they start to march."
	"A good plan, that is, yes.  But Jegojah, he thinks the Were-cat, he underestimates the worth of airborne troops, yes."
	"Probably, but I'm not going to ask for more than they're willing to give."
	"The key, it is to make them willing to give what ye want of them," Jegojah said.  "Politics, it is a part of being a general, yes.  A general, he must know how to say what.  As important, it is, as telling which unit to go where, yes."
	Tarrin looked at Jegojah.  Out of circulation for fifteen hundred years, and his insight seemed as valuable now as it would have been so long ago.  "I'm no general, Jegojah.  If anyone does the generalling, it's going to be Keritanima."
	"Generalling?  Jegojah, he think there's no such word," the Revenant cackled.  "And Jegojah, he thinks that the Were-cat is being too modest.  All alone, ye thought to bring together the Wikuni and the Arakites, yes.  Alone, the Were-cat thought of the value of airborne scouts, yes, and already solved many problems, ye did, with the Ungardt and the Selani.  Jegojah, he thinks the Were-cat would be as good a general as the Wikuni, yes."
	Tarrin was slightly embarassed.  "I'm no thinker, Jegojah.  I can barely control myself.  I don't need to be controlling other people."
	"Do that, ye already do," Jegojah grinned that ugly grin.  "Jegojah, he thinks there's quite a mind hiding under that fur.  No confidence, ye have in it, no.  Intimidated, ye are, by the Wikuni, intimidated to where ye believe she can do anything better than ye."
	"It's not that easy," Tarrin told him.  "I have a little problem called impulsiveness, Jegojah.  I tend to fly off on the first idea that seems good, without thinking it all the way through, and I often end up going by the seat of my pants once that good idea pans out on me halfway into it.  It's a racial quirk, but it makes me completely incompetent to lead an army.  I'd have them charging off at the first notion that it's the best thing to do, and that would get them all killed.  I'll leave the strategic planning for those that have the mind for it.  I'm just not suited."
	Jegojah cackled.  "Knowing one's limitations, that's also a sign of a good general, yes," he said.  "Jegojah, he would march under the Were-cat's command without hesitation, yes."
	"You have nothing to lose."
	Jegojah cackled even louder.  "True, true, yes," he admitted.  "Death, she has already claimed Jegojah."
	"Is there a point here, or are you just trying to flatter me?"
	The Revenant grinned.  "Only this.  Tread lightly, yes.  Kings, they have egos to match their stations.  Treating Andos like a child, it will harden him to ye, yes, and ye may need him later."
	"I realized that after I walked away from him," Tarrin answered.  "Sometimes it's hard for that side of me to realize that there are other kinds of power than what you can pack behind a fist."
	"The Cat, he lives not in that world, no, so it is hard for him to understand," Jegojah said sagely.  "But the Human, he knows.  The Human, he should be guiding the Cat in this unknown territory.  Yes."
	And with that, Jegojah got up and wandered off into the night.  The Revenant didn't sleep, so he amused himself at night by chasing the Sandmen around, and keeping an informal watch on the camp.  They couldn't hurt him, and he rather enjoyed letting them try.  The Revenant, Tarrin observed, had a rather strange sense of humor sometimes.  But Tarrin had to agree with Jegojah's warning.  Andos was a king, and that meant that he had some measure of ego.  Tarrin had done more than step on it during their brief exchange, he had ripped it out of the Aeradalla, thrown it on the ground, then stomped on it repeatedly.  But Tarrin's Were-cat pride and concept of the world wouldn't allow him to apologize, or even acknowledge that what he had done was wrong.  In Tarrin's mind, he was still the dominant, so he could do anything he bloody well pleased.  If they didn't like it, they could fight him over it.  It was just that simple.  The trick was at least getting the Cat to acknowledge that Andos was a powerful man, a man worthy of respect.  The Cat didn't have to like him, but it had to respect the power that Andos could bring to bear.  It was a different kind of power than the Cat usually acknowledged, an intangible power, but a viable one nonetheless.
	He mulled that over for quite a while, until Ariana strode over and sat down beside him.  He was curious, so he looked behind her, and saw that she had had to open her wings slightly so she could sit.  A good amount of her white plumage was pressed against the sandy ground.  Sitting on the ground like that wasn't easy for a being that had a wingspan of some twenty spans.
	"It took me a while to calm Andy down," she told him.  "What possessed you to talk to him like that?"
	"Simplicity," Tarrin replied calmly.  "He offended me, and I don't react well to being offended.  Laying things out quickly kept him from getting in serious trouble."
	"How did he offend you?"
	"He questioned my words, and demanded I prove what I was saying.  That's as good as accusing me of lying."
	"Ah.  I'll tell him about that, and warn him to choose his phrases more carefully next time."
	"That would be a good idea.  It would be a shame for you to lose your king so soon after getting him back."
	Ariana laughed.  "You certainly don't play around, don't you?"
	"I'm too old to play," he grunted.
	"Well, I don't know about that.  Since we're talking about something related, I just have to know.  What happened to you?  You weren't this tall the last time we met."
	"I came out second best in a fight with a Succubus," he answered honestly.  "She drained me, but her power couldn't kill me.  It aged me instead.  My kind keep growing all their lives, so my body grew to reflect the years the Succubus drained out of me."
	"Wow.  I didn't know that."
	"Very few people do."
	"I guess it really is about age, isn't it?"
	Tarrin glanced at her.  "I guess so."
	"Well, I think you look much more handsome now than you did then.  Before, you looked like a boy.  Now you look like a man."
	"I'm thrilled you find me handsome, Ariana," he drawled.  "It has drawbacks."
	"What?"
	Tarrin twisted a manacle.  "The fetlocks, for one," he grunted.  "They keep itching because of the manacles."
	"Then take off those ugly things.  Really, why do you wear them?"
	"Because they remind me of the price I paid when I trusted someone," he said pointedly, intensely, staring at Ariana with an unwavering gaze.  "They're there to make sure that I never make that mistake again."
	"Wow, it must have been something pretty bad."
	"You have no idea," he shuddered.  "And it's something I don't want to talk about."
	"Alright, but I think it must be pretty lonely."
	"Lonely is far better," he said shortly.
	She delicately let the matter drop.  "If your city is so much danger, why don't I fly you there?"
	"I can't do that," he told her.  "My goddess told me I have to get to Suld on my own.  I won't disobey her."
	"Surely she didn't mean you couldn't get help from me."
	"She made it very clear.  I have to get there on my own."
	"Well, then, that's what you'll have to do," she declared.  "You should never disobey your god.  It's a very stupid thing to do."
	He nodded eloquently.  "How did things turn out in the city?"
	"Pretty well," she replied.  "All that money you gave me ended up being for nothing, because Andy had the Palace Guard reassembled by the time I got back.  By sunset the next day, he had full control of the city again, and the Council was in serious trouble.  They got arrested for their crimes, and all the property they took was given back.  I got my house back," she said triumphantly.  "And I hope you don't mind, but I used the money you gave me to restart my trading business."
	"I don't mind.  We wouldn't have given it to you if we didn't want you to use it."
	"Where is the Faerie, anyway?"
	"Around here somewhere, but she should know better than to stay out after dark," he said, realizing that Sarraya still hadn't come back from her exploration of the ruins.  "Jegojah, has Sarraya come back?" he shouted.
	"Not yet.  Jegojah, he will go get her," the Revenant called from the edge of camp.  "The Faerie, she probably lost track of time again!"
	"Most likely," Tarrin said in a quiet tone, agreeing with the undead warrior.  "So, how long do you intend to string him along?"
	Ariana blushed deeply.  "I'm not--"
	"Don't lie to me, Ariana," he said with a faint smile.  "I'm not human or Aeradalla.  I can smell it all over you.  You can't hide it from me."
	Ariana turned a deep shade of purple.
	"It's nothing to be ashamed about," he told her calmly.  "But lying to yourself is never a way to honor your feelings.  If you want him, go get him.  He's not going to fall into your lap.  Well, unless you plan it out pretty well."
	"I would, but I think he still thinks of me as the little girl he grew up with," she sighed.  "I've done everything but throw myself at him, and all he does is laugh and call me silly."
	"He doesn't think you're a little girl.  Just as your scent can't hide your interest in him, his can't hide his interest in you.  I can smell it on him.  If you chase him, he won't run away from you."
	"Are you serious?"
	"Would I lie about something like that?" he said bluntly.  "Sometimes I think it's a miracle other races manage to reproduce.  You're all so incredibly silly about that kind of thing."
	Ariana laughed nervously, blushing again.  "I guess it's cultural," she said.  "Little girls in our society aren't raised by their mothers to go chasing after the first boy that catches their fancy."
	"Human girls are meant to be hard to get," Tarrin told her.  "It's instinct."
	"I'm not human."
	"No, but you're probably related to them," he said evasively.  "So that means that the instincts of humans are probably hiding inside you somewhere.  One of them is 'women play hard to get'."
	"I wonder why that is."
	"Simple.  A human male is looking for a loyal mate, who won't stray.  If he has to work to get her, he's assured that she's not going to go running off after the first male that shows interest in her."
	Ariana laughed.  "I guess that makes sense."
	"You other races wouldn't have half as screwed up a society as you have if you'd just listen to your instincts," he said accusingly.
	"What's the custom of your people about marriage?"
	"We don't marry," he replied.  "There are seven females for every male, so marrying wouldn't work.  Besides, Were-cats don't have the temperment to spend eternity with the same mate.  We're transient beings.  We take mates when the interest is there, and drift apart when the interest wanes.  We don't form lasting attachments the way humans do."
	"It sounds lonely.  And what happens if you love your mate?"
	"Love has nothing to do with being mates, Ariana," he said patiently.  "I could love one Were-cat female, yet be mates with another.  The love would have nothing to do with me being mates with the second."
	"That sounds unnatural."
	"Only to you," he replied.  "Besides, you forget, we're a transient people.  The love would fade over time, just as the interest does.  At least the Were-cats don't try to fool themselves into thinking that love is eternal."
	"You have a very cynical people, Tarrin," Ariana laughed.  "Where's the romance and the poetry and the beauty?"
	"Those aren't very common concepts among my people."
	"It must be unbearable!"
	"Not really.  Were-cat females have as little patience about things like that as males.  Females don't play games.  They simply go after what they want."
	"Without courting?"
	"Courting among Were-cats begins and ends with 'do you want to sleep with me?'"
	Ariana laughed.  "Well, the poets among the Were-cats must have a hard time paying the bills."
	"Probably.  If there were any romantic poets."
	"Well, have you ever loved someone?"
	"Once," he sighed, thinking of Jesmind.
	"What happened?"
	"We tried to kill each other."
	Ariana gave him a wild look, then burst out into gales of uncontrollable laughter.  Tarrin didn't find it to be very funny, but if he were human, he had to admit that he probably would have.  Not for what he said, but in the offhanded manner in which he said it.  It almost did sound like a joke.
	Jegojah strode into the campsite about then, carrying Sarraya by her wings, as the Faerie thrashed and hissed and threatened the Revenant with all manner of vile, ugly ways to die for a second time.  Jegojah seemed thoroughly unimpressed by the Faerie's warnings, finally dropping her near the fire.  Sarraya just barely managed to get her wings going before hitting the sandy ground.  "Jegojah, he found the Faerie in one of the old buildings," he replied, "surrounded by Sandmen."
	"They couldn't hurt me, you blockhead!" Sarraya screamed at him.  "I was doing something important!"
	"And what would that be?" Ariana asked.
	"Oh, I see you're here," she said.  "Well, I found a temple, and I was studying it.  I was trying to find the names of the old Dwarven gods.  I think that's some pretty important information."
	"Important enough, it is not, to die over, no," Jegojah said.  "One Sandmen, he was nearly inside the temple, yes."
	"They can't enter it," Sarraya told him waspishly.  "I know they can't, because they tried long before you got there.  They won't come inside the temple's walls.  And I have no idea why."
	"Spirits, they can't enter ground consecrated to a god, no," Jegojah told her.  "The power of the god, it repels them, yes."
	"You mean all we had to do to get away from you was hide in a church?" Tarrin asked.  "And how did you get on the Tower grounds?  That's holy ground for my Goddess."
	"Holy, yes, consecrated, no," the Revenant answered.  "A difference, there is, yes."
	The connection instantly clicked together in his mind.  He remembered his talks with the Goddess about other gods, and the differences between Elder and Younger gods.  "Wait a minute," Tarrin said quickly.  "You said that the church repelled the  Sandmen?"
	Sarraya nodded.
	"And that's an effect of consecrated ground?"
	"It is," Jegojah affirmed.
	"Then I think that the Dwarves aren't as extinct as people think," he announced quickly.  "The gods of the Dwarves are Younger Gods.  Their existence depends on worshippers.  If that church's power is still in effect, then the god to whom it's consecrated still has to be alive.  And that means that he has to have worshippers."
	"That makes sense," Sarraya agreed.  "I couldn't find a name anywhere in the temple.  Or more to the point, I couldn't read anything.  It's all in Dwarven."
	"I doubt they'd be gracious enough to write things in a language you could understand, Sarraya," Tarrin said bluntly.
	"You mean that there may be Dwarves still alive somewhere