started reading it, dear one.  May we join you?"
	"Later," he said brusquely.  "Besides, to be honest, so far it's been a struggle to stay awake to read it," he admitted.  "It's boring where I'm reading it right now."
	"How can anything like that be boring?" Keritanima challenged.
	"You'll find out when you get your turn," he told her evenly.  He sent the book into the elsewhere and stood up.  "Well, we don't have much time, so let's get cracking," he told them.  "What do you need me to do?"
	"You?  Nothing," Keritanima told him.  "Everyone and her brother have already received abundantly clear orders about you, Tarrin.  You are not to leave the Tower grounds, effective right now.  The ki'zadun may have sent out some advance assassins to try to get you, so we've closed the Tower off from the city and closed the city gates so no one can come in or out until it's over.  When the army gets here, your job is to defend the icon, Tarrin.  That's it.  You're our last line of defense, and, I dare say, the most dangerous one for our enemies to try to overcome.  We'll make damn sure that anything that gets to you will have to run through a gauntlet that will make it easy for you to finish off."
	Tarrin grunted, but he knew she was right.  The Goddess herself had told him not to leave the Tower after the army got here, and if he had to stay on the grounds, the best place for him would be in the courtyard, serving his Goddess by defending her icon from attack.
	"What is important for you now, dear one, is to rest and make yourself ready," Dolanna told him.  "We know you have been training your daughter, and also been training Jenna.  That cannot have left you feeling very fresh."
	He chuckled.  "That's why I'm here right now.  Jesmind threatened to do some awful things to me if I didn't rest."
	"She's a smart woman," Keritanima said with a toothy grin.  "Just so you know, I had the sashka and Jervis make some arrangements," she told him.  "The Ministry of Science is working around the clock to finish the prototype steamship.  They're pretty confident that it'll be ready by the time we arrive."
	"Are you sure that's a good idea?" he asked.  "I mean, someone may find out."
	"My dear brother, you underestimate the effectiveness of my secret service," she grinned.  "Besides, all I said was that I'd like to see that project completed before I returned.  I didn't say that I was going to use it.  I just remarked that I thought it had tremendous potential, and tripled the operating budget for the project.  It's not out of the ordinary, at least for my people."
	"Oh.  Well, I guess that's alright then.  Besides, it's your kingdom."
	"At least for now," she grunted.  "Jervis sent me some rather disturbing reports.  It seems that the noble houses are starting to get sneaky again.  Something's being planned, and it bothers me that I'm not there to step on it."
	"Doesn't your regent have enough manpower at hand to squash any rebellion?"
	"Of course he does, but I don't want to see common soldiers and innocent people getting killed because the noble houses decided that they can take back the power I took from them while I'm gone," she fretted.  "I will say this, though.  If they do pull anything, I'll dissolve the nobility on the spot."
	"That will cause a civil war," he warned.
	"True, but if they pull anything, they'll have fired the first shot, brother," she said seriously.  "And I warned them I'd do it.  You can't make a threat and then not carry it out.  It weakens your position."
	"Then maybe you'd better go home," he told her.  "I don't think one more Sorcerer is going to make much of a difference."
	"I'll make a big difference," she objected.  "They need me to form the big circle.  I'm one of only two non-human Sorcerers.  Without me, the power of the circle that will serve Jenna is going to be alot smaller."
	Tarrin forgot about that in his haste to try to help.  "Oh, right," he sighed.  "What are you going to do?"
	"I've already done it," she replied.  "Jervis is on it.  He'll find out what's going on.  And when he does, I'll know how to best go about breaking it up without starting a civil war."
	"Good luck."
	"Jervis doesn't need luck."
	"He didn't do too well against you, sister."
	"True, but that was me," she said with a toothy grin.  "He shouldn't have too much trouble with the noble houses."
	"At least you hope so."
	"I know so," she said confidently.  "I think Jesmind will get nasty if she finds us in here bothering you, brother, so we should go," she grunted.  "Besides, I have about a million things to do."
	"I figured you did.  Go ahead, sister."
	Keritanima and Dolanna turned to go, but Tarrin called out.  "Hold on, Dolanna," he said.  "Stay a minute."
	"Very well, dear one," she said with a nod, seating herself on the couch opposite his.
	"I'll see you for dinner tonight?" Keritanima asked.
	"As long as you show up," he teased.
	"We'll be there.  See you then," she said in farewell, then scurried out of his apartment.
	"What did you wish to talk about, dear one?" she asked.
	"Nothing serious," he told her with a smile.  "I just need a little correction, that's all."
	"In what?"
	"Well, I don't think you know, but someone taught me Sharadi while I was away," he told her.  "She's Selani, and they have a bad problem with pronouncing other languages the same way they do their own, so I'm not entirely sure how well she taught me."
	Dolanna smiled brightly at him.  "You learned my native tongue?  That pleases me, Tarrin.  Very much so."
	"You know me, Dolanna.  Can't stand not being able to speak a language."
	"You would have made a wonderful diplomat," she smiled.
	"At least before this happened," he grunted, holding up a paw.  "Now, I'd be more inclined to rip off the head of the other ambassador as I would to talk with him rationally."
	Dolanna laughed lightly.  "True enough.  Where would you like to begin?"
	It turned out that despite his worries, Denai had indeed taught him well.  There were some minor things to adjust in pronunciation and proper word order, but they were indeed minor things, little nuances that would separate him from someone who simply learned the language to sounding like a native.  Tarrin strove for that completeness of language in every one he learned, wanting to be so fluent that he sounded like a native, wanting to know those tiny little things that a native would know that a taught pupil may not.
	And just like Allia, the stiff formality that was always in her words vanished when she reverted to her native tongue.  She still spoke in a measured, stately way, as she did in Sulasian, but the words she used weren't as formal or unbending.  That alteration in speech patterns was exactly what he strove to overcome; Dolanna spoke Sulasian as a second language, and it showed in how she spoke it.
	"Well, dear one, whoever taught you certainly did a good job," Dolanna praised in Sharadi.  "He even managed to teach you some of the more abstract words."
	"She," he corrected.  "She was being trained to be the obe for her tribe.  That's something of a diplomat," he explained.  "They have to be able to speak the languages of the foreigners they may encounter and act as a translator for the tribe chief."
	"Ah.  Well, the Selani are well known for being thorough," she mused.  "And I have to admit, it pleases me very much to hear you speaking Sharadi.  I sometimes feel, restricted, trying to express my thoughts in your language.  At least now, I can communicate the complete sense of what I'm trying to say."
	"You always did before," he shrugged.  "I think you just thought we couldn't get the true sense of your meaning."
	"Perhaps," she smiled.
	"All I have to do now is learn Wikuni, and I'll be able to speak everyone's native language," he chuckled.
	"Keritanima already started making plans," Dolanna said in a sort of conspiratorial tone.  "She's got Miranda working on a tutor for you to help you learn it while you travel to Wikuna.  She wants you to be fluent by the time you set foot in her kingdom.  I think she's getting a bit too ambitious.  I don't think anyone can learn a language in a month."
	"I learned Sharadi in about two," he told her.  "I have a knack for languages, Dolanna."
	"I know that, dear one," she smiled.  "But still, two months seems...too short."  She tapped her chin in thought.  "Maybe, maybe you were getting some help."
	"What do you mean?"
	"There are any number of spells that can accelerate learning," she reminded him.  "I used one to learn Sha'Kar within a month.  But I had to use it.  If I'd have tried to learn it the long way, I'd still be learning.  Did you use one of those spells?"
	"No," he told her.  "But--well, now that you mention it, maybe I did get some help," he said, pondering.
	"How so?"
	"I've been told that I'm very sensitive to the Weave," he explained.  "Well, Dolanna, there's alot more to the Weave than magic.  The memory of everything that every Sorcerer ever knew drifts in the Weave, like cork on the ocean.  It's impossible to find exactly what you want, but the Goddess told me that some Sorcerers can draw the information they want to them.  Maybe the Weave was slipping me a little help while I was learning Sharadi, probably without me even noticing.  I've come to find out that that happened alot, even when I was here.  All those spells of High Sorcery you saw me use, the knowledge of them came to me from the Weave."
	"I always wondered how you managed to learn it," she said after a moment.  "And that sounds like an absolutely fascinating thing.  You can find any information you want?"
	"Not really.  Like I said, it's like trying to find a single cork floating in the ocean, but in reality it's like trying to sort out a single sound in a cacophony of a million reverberating echoes.  When it does happen, it's fairly rare, even for me.  But sometimes I'll see something or hear something I don't understand, and then the knowledge of it just hits me.  That's when the Weave's memories find me.  Maybe, when Denai was teaching me, it was making the Weave send the memories of Sharadi to me to help me learn it quickly."
	"Possible.  If that's so, then your intent has a measurable effect on the Weave."
	"I already knew that," he said, absently pointing to a small feeder strand crossing through the room.  Dolanna saw nothing, but then seemed to understand and touched the Weave so she could see it.  With just the barest intent and exertion, he caused the strand to move about two spans to the left.  "What happened to me, Dolanna, it connected me to the Weave in ways even I don't completely understand.  It's like an entirely different realm of magic, with its own rules and its own limitations."  He moved the strand back to where it belonged, then stared at her.  "I've been keeping this to myself, Dolanna," he told her.  "The Weave reacts to me like a living thing now, probably because it is a living thing, I've come to discover.  Now that it has such a hold on me, it can do things for me it can't do for others, and it does tend to react to my needs, even without my knowledge.  I know the others can feel that my power is different, but I haven't told anyone, not even Allia and Keritanima, the full extent of it yet."
	"I assume you have a reason?" she asked.
	He nodded.  "What happened to me can happen to any Sorcerer," he told her.  "Weavespinners like me are born, but any Sorcerer can become a Weavespinner too.  They're not as strong as me or Jenna or Jasana, but they do gain access to the unique form of magic we can employ.  If I told Keritanima, she'd run right out and try to figure out how to gain that power.  I know her too well."
	Dolanna smiled.  "She would," she agreed.
	"There's a drawback to it, though," he said.  "If you do manage to do it, it changes you physically.  That alters the power of Sorcery for you, and you lose your powers until you figure out how to get back in contact with them."
	"I remember you telling us about that," she told him, then it dawned on her.  "And with the enemy army so close, if Keritanima lost her powers temporarily, it would damage our chances," she realized.
	"Exactly.  They need Kerri's magic.  If she crossed over and became da'shar, she'd lose her powers, and we'd lose a critical part of our defense."  He looked at her.  "She can try all she wants after the battle.  But until it's over, I'm keeping this from her."
	"Jenna is the same way, right?"
	He nodded.  "She's done very well learning what she needed to learn, and doing it quickly.  When she takes the field, she's going to be the last thing the ki'zadun wants to see.  She's as strong as I am, Dolanna, and unlike me, she can Circle.  That's going to make her more powerful than I could ever hope to be."
	"How can a group of weaker Sorcerers boost her so much?"
	"It's basic Circle rules, Dolanna.  A Circle is stronger than the sum of its parts.  If there are twenty-three in the Circle, it's going to give Jenna all their power, her own power, and the boost she gets from being in the Circle.  When that Circle forms, she's going to have enough power to all but destroy the entire enemy army.  If they don't have some fearsome magical defenses, it's going to be a very short battle."
	"Thus explains your optomism," Dolanna chuckled.  "But our adversaries probably know this, and yet they're still coming.  That means that they must be confident they can get around that."
	"I know," he grunted.  "I don't see how they're going to do it, though.  I know that Jenna can't do anything about the Demons, but she can certainly lash out at the native troops in their army.  So long as the Demons don't go right after her, Jenna could crush any kind of magical defense they could put in her way."
	"Well, dear one, we'll certainly find out," Dolanna said soberly.
	"We will at that," he agreed.
	The door opened, and Jesmind and Jasana padded into the apartment.  Jasana was almost skipping, holding a large tankard, and Jesmind was carrying a very heavy platter.  The smell of the food on that platter made his stomach growl immediately, and he realized that he was very hungry.
	"I thought I told you to take it easy," Jesmind said flintily, looking at Dolanna.
	"I am.  Can't I have a chat with an old friend, Jesmind?" he challenged.
	"No," she said bluntly, setting the tray down on the tea table.  "Those chats always seem to upset you."
	"I assure you, we talked of nothing that would upset him, Jesmind," Dolanna said calmly.
	"Well, alright.  In this whole madhouse, you're about the only Sorcerer I trust, Dolanna," Jesmind grunted.
	"I am pleased to hear that," she smiled.  "In fact, I was correcting Tarrin in his pronunciation of my language.  He has learned it well.  I am proud of his accomplishment."
	Tarrin couldn't help but beam a little at that.  Dolanna's high opinion of him was something that mattered to him very much.
	"Oh.  That's alright then.  Want to stay for lunch, Dolanna?"
	"Thank you, but no.  I have some matters to attend, and they do not get done when I sit here and while away time with Tarrin."
	Jasana climbed into Tarrin's lap, seating herself sedately.  He put his arms around her.  "Aren't you going to say hello to Dolanna, cub?" he prompted.
	"Hullo," she intoned.  She was still just a bit shy around his friends.
	"Did you have a good time with your grandmother?"
	"Umm," she said, opening up.  "She read me a story, and Thean took me out in the gardens and showed me all the different flowers, and even picked a pear for me.  I like Thean.  He's nice."
	"So do I," he agreed.
	"Well, I should be off," Dolanna said, standing up and smoothing out the skirts of her dress absently.  "I will see you at dinner tonight?" she asked.
	"We'll be there," Jesmind answered for him.
	"Until then," she nodded, and then let herself out.
	"I hate to say it, but I like that woman," Jesmind chuckled ruefully after the door closed.
	"You have good taste, love," Tarrin told her with a smile.  "Now pass me some of that mutton."

	The rest of the day, and the next day, passed in an intense flurry of preparation.  Tarrin watched as he walked with Jasana through the Tower grounds as soldiers and Sorcerers scrambled to finish their preparations.  The Tower grounds became a fortress, with fortifications dug in on the Tower side of the fence, and manned by Vendari and Knights, with Wikuni musketeers reinforcing their lines.  The rest of the soldiers went to the walls, Sulasian and Ungardt, Wikuni and Arakite, and Selani and Were-kin, and the Aeradalla took out their crossbows and made them ready.  The Centaurs were placed on the streets beyond the walls, an interior line of defense should anything manage to breach the walls and gain entrance to the city.  It was only logical to set them so, since their equine bodies were unsuited for manning the walls.  Swords were sharpened, muskets cleaned, cannons prepared, catapults tuned, and nerves were steeled for the inevitable arrival of their opposition.
	The activity in the Tower was as heavy as outside.  Tarrin heard about it from Keritanima as she took a rare break and walked with him in the gardens.  The generals were tweaking their strategy constantly as scouting reports came in from the Aeradalla, many of whom were now visible flying over the city in wide, lazy circles.  Shiika, whom he was still avoiding, was having almost constant arguments with the Keeper over exactly what should be protected.  Shiika wanted to stop them at the walls, so she wanted all the troops there.  The Keeper wanted to protect the Tower, so she kept trying to pull men off the walls and put them on the Tower grounds.  The generals that were doing the real planning kept having to separate the two of them during their staff meetings.
	But he couldn't avoid the Demoness forever.  As the sun set on that fateful day, the beginning of the time when the ki'zadun could arrive, she tracked him down in one of the hallways near the kitchen.  The unnaturalness of her scent warned him too late that she was approaching, and he found himself trying to avoid breathing in that ghastly smell when she cornered him against a doorway.  She looked very unhappy, glaring at him, wearing the form she had used to appear in public back in Dala Yar Arak, the dusky-skinned, beautiful Arakite woman with the unusual reddish hair.  "It's about time!" she snorted.  "Why have you been avoiding me, Tarrin?  Aren't I good enough to talk to you anymore?"
	He knew exactly why he'd been avoiding her, but he didn't want to say anything.
	"Oh, is that all?" she scoffed.  "I learned about that not a day after you did," she told him.  "You may have had a good idea, but some of the others aren't quite as clever as you.  I've kept it a secret, and I intend to go right on keeping it a secret.  You forget, Tarrin, it's in my best interest to not pass that information along.  We may not be trustworthy, but when my comfort is at stake, you can always depend on where I'm going to go."
	Tarrin felt a bit abashed.  He had been avoiding her, and not telling her why.  It seemed sort of silly that he'd been stubbornly refusing to get anywhere near her when it was obvious that it was a fruitless exercise.  "All right, I'm sorry," he apologized.  "But I'm sure you can understand my position."
	"Of course I can," she said, raising one of her elegantly shaped, reddish eyebrows.
	"Are you ready for them?" he asked pointedly.
	"As ready as we're going to get," she replied.  "I've found out who's on which side, and already arranged for certain old friends to arrive and engage them before they can cause too much trouble.  I've called in about every favor owed to me for this.  I hope you appreciate it," she snorted.
	"You're doing this for you, Shiika," he said mildly.  "Remember?"
	She looked at him, then laughed ruefully.  "I hate clever mortals," she told him.  "That reminds me, I have a bone to pick with you, Tarrin."
	"What did I do now?"
	"It's what you did a while ago," she told him.  "Remember when you got the book from me?  Well, you rendered my entire palace non-magical in the process.  When all this is over, I fully expect you to go back to Dala Yar Arak and fix that!"
	"I did?" he asked in surprise, trying to remember that little adventure.  Then he remembered that he did shift the Weave, to rob his opponent of his magical advantage.  He didn't realize that it stayed that way.
	"Yes, you did!" she accused.  "You owe me, Tarrin, so I want that fixed!"
	"I can't make any promises, Shiika," he told her.  "But if I live through this, I'll try."
	"Well...alright," she huffed.  "Now that we're friends again, want to take a walk with me?  I want to hear about what happened after you left Arak."
	"You already know."
	"True, but I want to hear it from you," she said with an inviting smile.  "Besides, you owe me for avoiding me for so long.  I think a little bit of your time won't kill you."
	Tarrin found the idea a bit disconcerting--he still didn't absolutely trust Shiika--but in her defense, she had been forthright so far.  "Alright," he agreed.  "But I don't have long.  My mate will come looking for me in a while."
	"I'll take what time I can get," she assured him.
	They went out into the gardens, and walked the brick pathways as Tarrin related some of the tale of what happened to him after he left Arak.  He was frank with her, mainly because her telepathic ability would allow her to tell when he was covering something up.  Despite the vile repulsiveness of her scent, Tarrin found that just talking to Shiika was a rather pleasurable experience.  The Demoness was intelligent and quite engaging, asking questions that piqued his mind, forced him to expand himself to answer her.  He very nearly began enjoying their time together when Shiika suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, her dusky skin sallowing a bit.
	"What's the matter?" he asked.
	She looked at him, and then she changed her form, taking on her wings, the form in which he always envisioned her when he thought of her.  "It's time," she announced in a grim voice.  "Zabelle just spotted the advance scouts."
	She looked at Tarrin, her eyes dark and foreboding.  "They're here, Tarrin.  Now, things get ugly."
 
Chapter 35

	It was a sea of seething sentient animosity.
	Tarrin stood at the top of the main Tower in the darkness of the night, staring down over the city with sight augmented by Sorcery, one of the weaves that Spyder taught him, and his heart sank every time he moved his head.  There were thousands and thousands and thousands of them.  Humans, Trolls, Bruga, Waern, Dargu, and things Tarrin had never seen before.  Strange horse-like creatures with fanged mouths.  Horse-like creatures that breathed fire.  Massive moving piles of what looked like rotting vegetable matter.  Strange creaturs with the upper bodies of humans, but the lower bodies of snakes.  Centaur-like creatures with lower bodies of assorted quadruped carnivores and the upper torsos and heads of human women.  Rank upon rank upon rank of fetid corpses or dry skeletons, animated by powerful dark magic.  Human-like beings that were obviously not as human as they appeared.  What looked like pictures of the old Dwarves, but with fire for hair.  Ugly bird-like creatures with the lower bodies and talons of a vulture, but the upper torso and head of exceptionally ugly human females.  Some of them were proudly wearing Aeradalla feathers in their hair.  And many more, some beyond description.
	And those were the natives.  It was easy to tell the Demons from the natives, and there were many kinds of them.  The most abundant were these small, four-span tall bipedal creatures with naked, mottled bodies and small claws on their emaciated hands, with utter mindlessness showing in their eyes.  There was an army of those to themselves, being supervised by creatures he had seen before, much like the male offspring of Shiika, the ones he had killed.  Cambisi, half-Demon offspring that served their full-blooded masters in jobs probably too menial for them.  There were many of those vulture-like Demons that had attacked him on the plains of Saranam, as well as quite a few of those four-armed monstrosities like the one he had fought to gain the Book of Ages.  There were tall, rugged looking bipedals ones with the heads of some kind of carnivorous toad, and fat ones with tiny wings that had the heads of boars.  There were ones that looked like human skeletons, with a tight sheath of skin stretched over their frames and a large horn on the top of their head.  But the most numerous of those others were large winged ones that could only be called hideous, not resembling anything he'd ever seen before, with massive tusks jutting out of their lower jaws.  He had no idea of the names of those assorted kinds of Demons, but it was apparent that there were a lot of them.
	And it didn't take him long to find the one.  He remembered Jegojah's description of her.  He called her marilith, and her appearance was so striking that one could not forget seeing her.  A large creature with the upper body of a woman, with six arms, and a pretty face and generous breasts, with the twenty-span long lower body of a massive snake.  Tarrin marked that one, because Jegojah had said that she was the general of the army, the main tactical organizer.  Jegojah had given her a great deal of respect, telling him that she was as intelligent as she was deadly, and Tarrin would put faith in Jegojah's assessment.  Of all creatures, he would know.  If they wanted to win this battle, that was the one that they had to kill first.
	She wasn't the only one he marked.  Standing beside her was the emaciated form that he just knew was Kravon.  The man that had sent Jegojah after him, that had caused the death of Faalken, that had attacked his family and friends.  That was the man that now carried all the hatred that Tarrin had felt for Jegojah, and Tarrin had to suppress the wild urge to try to kill the man where he stood.  Something told him that to try would tip them to how strong he really was, and killing one man wasn't worth losing the city and the Goddess.  There were much larger things at stake now.
	He watched in grim curiosity as the massive invading army began to set up, giving the mortals among them a chance to rest.  Tarrin realized that they were waiting for sunrise to attack, and that told him that the Goddess had been wrong.  They were going to commit to this battle.  They had no reason to wait if they were just going to let their bloodthirsty allies rush in and assault the city.  They could just let them go now, and pull out under the safety of darkness while the maniacal elements of their army kept the city defenders busy.  But they weren't doing that.  They were going to rest, organize, and then when the sun came up, they were going to attack.  In force.
	Shiika landed beside him quietly as he looked over the army.  Her scent was hard to catch in the stiff wind, and that was enough of a blessing for him.  "Quite a few of them, aren't there?" she asked in grim humor.
	"I didn't realize there were so many kinds of Demons," he told her.
	"Those are only a fraction of the various kinds," she told him.  "The little ones being tended by the Cambions are called Manes.  The numerous ones with the wings are called Nabassu.  The skeletal ones are called Babau.  The vulture-headed ones are called Vrock.  The four-armed ones are Glabrezu.  The ones with frog heads are Hezrou.  The pig-heads are Nalfeshnee, and that single one with the six arms is a Marilith.  Thank the darkness there aren't any Balors out there."
	"What's a Balor?"
	"The grandpappy of all Demons," she told him.  "That's the last thing you'd ever want to meet in a dark alley."  She glanced at him.  "I think some here call them Demon Lords."
	Tarrin formed an Illusion, showing some of the creatures he'd seen.  "What are these?"
	"The fanged horses are Leucrotta.  The burning ones are Nightmares.  The plants are called Shambling Mounds.  The chalky-skinned fellow is a vampire, and the woman-topped beasts are called Lamias.  The snake-creatures are called Naga.  The short fire-haired ones are called Derro, and the vulture-women are called Harpies.  All part of the Fae-da'Kii."
	Tarrin remembered his lessons about them, but they hadn't included descriptions of them, or names.  The Fae-da'Nar tried to forget that their human-preying cousins existed.  "Quite an army to attack one city."
	"When the fur flies, you'll understand why it's such a large force," she snorted.  "They're trying to attack a God, Tarrin, and do it in the place she calls home.  She may not be able to directly intervene, but she can give her power to her worshippers.  Expect the power of Sorcery to suddenly increase when the battle starts, Tarrin.  Your Goddess is going to tamper directly.  And I see that their god is going to do the same thing," she grunted.
	"What are you talking about?"
	"I can tell you're using magic to look, the same as me.  Look right over there," she pointed.  Tarrin looked where she indicated, and saw a strange black obelisk being carried on a platform pulled by Giants.  Just by looking at it, Tarrin could see the powerful magic tied up in it, a magic so strong that the gods had to have had a hand in its creation.  "That, my dear Were-cat, is something I haven't seen in five thousand years.  I didn't think there were any left."
	"What is it?" he asked irritably.
	"It's called a Mafeli," she told him.  "It's going to give Val's troops the same boost your side's going to get.  It gives Val a direct presence here, just like the Goddess' icon does for her.  That means that his priests are going to be able to throw around some pretty strong magic."
	And that, he realized, was their counter for attempting to take on the katzh-dashi in Suld, where the power of Sorcery was at its strongest.  It also turned into Tarrin's primary target.  	 He could feel the magical power flowing into it, and he realized that that's what it was supposed to do; absorb magical energy and then grant it to those who knew its secrets.  Tarrin realized that any attempt to attack the obelisk with magic would be ineffective, because it would simply absorb the magic.  The only way to effectively attack that thing was from within the Weave, to strike at the mystical connection between it and the source of its power.  Break that connection, and the device would be rendered mundane.  He raised his awareness until he bridged the gap between reality 