 and her son.  That she was there as a friend.
	Mist's hostile posture melted away, and she actually blushed slightly.  "I, I'm sorry," she apologized.  "I'll accept your gift, lady."
	"That will never do," the woman said.  "Call me Mother, child.  All my closest friends do."
	"Mother," she corrected herself immediately, feeling a strange compulsion to please this strange woman.
	She took the amulets, and felt how warm they were.  One of them had a short chain, obviously meant for Eron, and she looked at them.  They looked just like Tarrin's amulet.
	"Put it on, Mist," she prompted.  "I won't feel safe about leaving until you do."
	Obeying out of impulse, she took the amulet meant for her and put the chain around her neck, then settled it on her chest.  It seemed suddenly hot, then cold, and then it got heavy for a split second...and then it simply felt like it belonged there.  She wrapped her paw around it for a moment, surprised at what she felt, then she bent down and helped Eron put on his.
	"Aww, you're leaving, shining lady?" Eron pouted.
	"I'll always visit your dreams, little cubling," she smiled sweetly.  "But it costs me much to come and visit this way.  It's much easier to do it the other way."
	"Who are you?" Mist asked, almost plaintively.
	"You already know that answer, Mist," she replied cryptically, looking at Triana.  "How long are you staying?"
	"A few hours," she replied.  "I need to get back to Suld.  Jesmind needs constant defusing."
	"I've noticed," the woman laughed.
	"How is Tarrin doing?"
	"He's doing fine."
	"Has Kimmie seduced him yet?"
	The woman looked at her, and then laughed.  "No, but Tarrin is fully aware that she's interested," she replied.  "He's resisting her out of respect for Jesmind, but I doubt it will last long.  Tarrin understands his instincts, Triana.  He knows when it's not healthy to deny them."
	"Good," she snorted.
	"Well, I hate to come and go, but it's time for me to go back," she sighed.  "We'll talk later, Triana?"
	"If you wish," she replied respectfully.
	"I do wish it," she assured with a nod.  "Goodbye, Mist.  It was nice to meet you."
	And with that, she knelt and gave Eron another hug, kissed him on the cheek, then stood and walked towards the open door.
	"But who are you?" Mist asked a final time, but got no answer.  The woman stepped out the door and closed it behind her.  "Triana, who is that woman?" she demanded.
	"Mist, you wouldn't believe me if I told you," the matron said seriously.  "She's a friend.  A very unusual friend.  Let's just leave it at that."
	"She's the shining lady, Mama," Eron told her, as if that explained everything.
	The shining lady.  Mist looked at the closed door, thoroughly convinced that something very weird, very unique, had just happened.  But she had no idea what it was.  She just had a feeling.
	She reached up and put her paw around the amulet, felt the strange energy that emanated from it, and then it just hit her.  She gasped, her eyes widening in shock, and she turned to Triana with pleading eyes.  "It wasn't--"
	"It was," she said with a simple nod.  "Feel very lucky, Mist.  You were just visited by a Goddess."
	Mist gaped at her.
	Triana laughed.  "I told you that you wouldn't believe it if I told you," she chided her. "Now let's eat.  I have to get back to Suld by nightfall, or Jesmind may get pecky and kill somebody."

Chapter 1

	It was a fine day to be out.
	The day was sunny, cloudless, and delightfully warm.  The winds blew stiffly over the expanse of open ocean, which was rolling with small waves that barely rocked the ship as its bow cut through them on a westward course.  The sails were full of wind, pushing the ship along at a pace that few ships on the seas could match, the speed and grace of the technologically superior Wikuni clippers.  Everyone on board the rather large, elaborately painted and decorated clipper ship was busy with work, as sailors minded the sails and rigging to keep them adjusted for maximum speed, and officers stood on the deck studying the sails with hawkish eyes, issuing commands to the sailors above every time the wind so much as fluttered.   The Queen had demanded full sail and best speed to Wikuna, and the proud crew of the Royal ship, a ship that did nothing but carry the monarch, would prove to their queen that they were the best sailors on the twenty seas.
	Tarrin looked down at them from the crow's nest, a tiny barrel nailed to the top of the center mast, the highest point on the ship, and marvelled at the skill of the Wikuni sailors to handle a ship with so much rigging.  The ship constantly had to slow down to prevent from breaking its formation with the squadron of fully armed military vessels that escorted the Royal clipper, ships that formed a very tight, overlapping defensive ring that kept the Queen's vessel firmly within its center.  They had no need for a lookout when they were surrounded by friendly ships, so the crow's nest had been empty and available, and Tarrin couldn't resist climbing up and getting a good look around.  He raised his face to the sky, staring up at the cloudless, blue expanse, which was broken in half by the ghostly band of white that ran from the eastern horizon to the western horizon. Those were the Skybands, wearing their ghostly veil during the day, only to cast it away and shine down on the land with its brilliant bands of color during the night, colored light that, when combined with the light of any of the four moons, was enough even for humans to see well enough to move around.  It never truly got dark on Sennadar unless the night sky was covered with thick clouds.  They looked just as far away as ever, but they were narrower than what he was used to seeing.  The Skybands appeared narrower and narrower as one moved towards the equator.  He'd never been on the equator before, but Keritanima said that they looked like a knife's edge in the sky.  Where his mother was from, the great northern kingdom of Ungardt, the Skybands took up almost half the sky.  Then again, that was so far north that the sun sometimes didn't rise during the winter and didn't set during the summer.
	It was a beautiful day.  He looked down at the the deck, absently scratching at the fur on his arm.  Tarrin was not human, though he had been born so.  He was a Were-cat now, a magically imbued being with the power to shapechange into the form of a common housecat.  The circumstances that caused him to be turned were very complicated, and things seemed even more complicated now.  The Were-cat who had bitten him, the fiery female Jesmind, was now the mother of his child, and the people who had sent her after him, the katzh-dashi, were now his allies again.  He never dreamed he'd go back to the Tower after what they did to him, but he had.  Time had mellowed him, had given him a chance to heal those wounds, though not completely.  Tarrin had been Were for nearly two years now, and had come to accept it, even desire it.  Where most Were-kin were not so obvious, the Were-cats were.  Unable to take the full human form without pain, Were-cats took a natural form that was almost human, but not quite.  He still looked human, but he had very inhuman features, such as his tail, or his cat ears, or the fur that covered his arms to just above the elbows and his legs to just above the knees, and the fact that he stood head and shoulders over most humans and Wikuni.  His hands weren't quite hands, they were hybrids between human hands and cat's paws, and his feet were elongated and thicker than a human foot, forcing him to stand on his toes, with the balls of his feet rather wide.  His feet were much more unusual looking than his paws--or his hands, as a human would think of them--but they gave him great balance and stability.  Each paw and foot also held very long, very sharp, and extremely wicked claws, the natural weapons of a Were-cat.  Tufts of fur grew on the outsides of his wrists and forearms and around his ankles, what were called fetlocks, a visible sign of an age that had been forced upon him.
	They were all a little afraid of him, the Wikuni sailors.  He could smell it on them.  Tarrin's senses were exceptional, and he could smell fear, track people by scent, and could often smell it when people were lying to him.  His sense of smell was the most acute sense he possessed, and like all Were-cats, he depended on it, was guided by it, and it formed the foundation of his perception of the world.  Where humans would identify things by their names, or how they looked, Tarrin did so by their scent.  He couldn't blame them for being afraid of him, after what had happened lately.
	Tarrin had been feeling...annoyed.  That was a good word for it.  It had started out as depression, as he had just been forced to leave his mate and daughters behind in Suld, but that had eased over the journey.  He knew it would, because he talked to them every day using magic.  Talking to them every day made them seem not so far away, and had eased his sense of loneliness.  He also had his blood sisters, Keritanima and Allia, to provide him with the companionship he needed to take his mind off Jesmind, and his friends Azakar, Dar, Miranda, Camara Tal, and Phandebrass were there to talk to him when he felt unsettled.  Whenever he felt troubled, however, he immediately sought out Dolanna.  The petite, sober, wise Sorceress had never failed to calm him, and her gentle wisdom comforted him many times in the past, as it would do so many times in the future.  Tarrin held Dolanna in the highest respect, so much so that he deferred to her authority, something he did not do for anyone else on the ship, not even Keritanima.  In his mind, Dolanna was the dominant, was the stronger of them.  It wasn't true in a physical sense, nor was it true in a magical sense.  Tarrin could break Dolanna over his knee.  But she had been the one to help guide him through the traumatizing time after he'd been bitten and turned, and that caused him to see her as a mother figure, a person whose interaction with him caused him to perceive her as dominant over him.
	Tarrin's very simple outlook on life boiled down to that one concept...dominance.  In his mind, he was the dominant, for he was larger, stronger, and faster than almost everyone else.  In his mind, that was all that was necessary for others to obey him.  And when they didn't, he perceived it as a direct challenge, one that could not go unanswered.  The only being on the ship that Tarrin even came close to viewing as a respectable rival was Szath, Keritanima's massive Vendari bodyguard, but Tarrin didn't bother fighting him to establish the pecking order between them.  Szath was Keritanima's servant, and deferred to her in all things.  Since Szath submitted to someone who was submissive to him, Tarrin saw himself as dominant over the Vendari.  He was glad he woudln't have to fight him over that, though.  Tarrin didn't back down from any challenge, but Szath was big...big, and fast.  A fight between them would be evenly matched, with the outcome uncertain.
	The only real hole in his ordered little concept of the ship was Kimmie.  The female Were-cat, who had come along to tutor under Phandebrass, was causing Tarrin certain discomfort.  It wasn't her fault, that was true enough, but it was getting to be very inconvenient.  Kimmie was a female, and she also rather liked him.  That much was a given, for she'd said as much.  She'd also admitted that she'd like to take him for mate, but wouldn't do so as long as he was mates with Jesmind.  She had even promised Jesmind that she wouldn't touch him during the journey.  If she made it so clear, why was she--
	He snorted.  Females.  Kimmie must have forgotten her promise, because she had it all over her scent.  She was bandy.  Tarrin was part cat, and that gave him the instincts of his animal brother as well as the senses.  When cats were interested in each other, it showed up in their scents.  Kimmie's scent was absolutely radiating her availability.  That wasn't unusual in Were-cat females, and Kimmie had no control over it.  She couldn't smell it on herself, so she may not even be aware that she was doing it.  But she was, and it was getting to him.  Tarrin loved Jesmind, she was his mate, and the idea of dallying with Kimmie seemed...wrong.  Oh, there was interest there--real interest--and that made it worse.  Tarrin did find Kimmie to be attractive, and she knew it.  Tarrin may love Jesmind, but he had the instincts of an animal within him, and no healthy male animal was going to ignore a willing female.
	That formed a fundamental aspect of Were-cat society.  There were seven females for every male, and the Were-cat nature, being so powerfully grounded in the instincts of the cat, made it impossible for mates to form lasting bonds.  Females took males for mate for a while, until their need to be alone overwhelmed their desire for companionship, and the mates parted.  It always happened, and Tarrin knew that it would happen to him and Jesmind despite how much they loved each other.  Not even love could overwhelm the instincts, and cats were independent creatures.  Females had to share the few males around, and competition for males was fierce, even for males who were already mates with a female.  Mate stealing was an honorable and practiced custom, a custom of attempting to seduce a male away from another female.  It created alot of friction in Were-cat society, but Were-cats thrived in the competitive atmosphere, ensuring that the crafty female, or the strong one, would hold onto her mate and succeed in reproducing.  A female worked to find a male, then catch him, then she worked hard to keep the other females away from him.  Males were rather appreciative of the custom, for males rarely went without companionship for very long.  They were careful to show interest in all females and not show favoritism; even if a female hated a male, she may take him for mate if she was desperate, and that would make the mating a very nervous one.  A few males did have favorites, however.  All females knew that Thean was owned by Triana, and that Thean adored her.  He would be mates with other females, but if Triana showed up to claim him, he would leave them.
	He had come up into the crow's nest to avoid Kimmie for a while, to clear his head and think.  It wasn't Kimmie's fault, but she wouldn't leave him alone.  She would almost seem to go out of her way to track him down and talk to him, or ask him about things, and that closeness made him more than aware that her scent was trying to bait him into making advances.  Female Were-cats were usually very direct about getting mates, but Kimmie wasn't being direct like she should be.  Was she trying to suppress her interest, or simply trying to get Tarrin to touch her, thereby keeping the promise she made to Jesmind?  He wished he knew.  If Kimmie came flat out and asked, he'd know...and he didn't know how he'd answer.
	It was the combination of Kimmie's distracting him and his separation from his family that had been making him short tempered.  Tarrin was feral, meaning that he had an automatic suspicion of and distrust for people he didn't know.  That had softened greatly when he was with his mate and daughter, but now that he was away from them, outside of the comfortable confines of the Tower and back out in the cold, harsh world, it had begun to creep back into his personality.  Wikuni sailors that had seemed friendly on the first couple of days began to look more and more threatening, as the old feral sense of paranoia had begun to reestablish itself in his mind.  There had been a time when Tarrin couldn't control that fear, control that sense of danger from anyone he didn't know, and it caused him to shut himself away from strangers.  Now, however, he understood his feral nature, and had learned to overcome the fear to the point to where he could tolerate the presence of strangers around him.  He wouldn't turn his back on them, and he wasn't very cordial or friendly when he talked to them, but he refused to allow their presence to interfere with his daily life the way it used to.  With him being lonely for his family, annoyed over Kimmie, and wary around strangers, it created a situation nearly as explosive as gunpowder.  On two separate occasions so far, Tarrin had struck at unknown sailors that had gotten too close to him.  The blows hadn't been to kill--Tarrin could kill with a single swipe of his paw if he so wished it--more like warnings to stay away from him.  Keritanima and Dolanna had to go around to all the sailors and explain that this Were-cat was not was friendly and personable as the female, and to stay out of his way, and also to automatically obey any command he gave them, no matter what it was or how crazy it seemed.  They made it clear to the sailors that their lives depended on that obedience.
	Tarrin's behavior had been very disappointing for his sisters.  They had seen him be so calm in the Tower, so mellow, almost like the way he'd been before they fled from it the first time, but they simply did not understand.  Once a Were-cat was feral, they would never be anything other than feral.  The degree of the feral nature could change, as could its symptoms depending on the surroundings, but it never went away.  Tarrin knew he would live the rest of his life in fear of strangers, unable to trust anyone he did not know, not in the slightest manner.  Now that he was out of the comforting surroundings of the Tower, away from the calming influence of his mate and daughters, the old mannerisms were returning, and returning quickly.
	He looked down to the deck and saw Phandebrass and Kimmie near the bow.  Phandebrass was a human Wizard, thin, tall, and his age was somewhat indeterminate.  He had hair that was partially white and partially dark, which had to be the result of some kind of magical spell, for it had been white before that, with a narrow face that seemed young but held eyes that looked ancient.  He wore a simple gray robe with mystical symbols embroidered into it and a ridiculous conical hat.  He was an addled man, given to rambling on when he talked and speaking of things that nobody else could understand, but Tarrin respected him.  He was flaky and erratic, a bit annoying at times, but he was a very good Wizard, and he was exceptionally intelligent despite his rather befuddled demeanor.  Tarrin would trust his life in Phandebrass if it came down to it.  Phandebrass' little pets, two red-scaled drakes, sat on a rope coil beside their master, watching him.  Chopstick and Turnkey had become the ship's mascots.  They were curious little creatures, fearless and bold, and were rather friendly and affectionate.  Tarrin had not liked them when he first met them, but he had grown quite fond of them, to the point where they commonly slept with him at night, all curled up in a bundle of scales and fur on a bed that was so small he was forced to sleep upon it in his cat form.  Phandebrass was explaining something to Kimmie, waving his arms in an animated fashion as the female Were-cat nodded with an intent look on her face.  Kimime had come to learn magic from Phandebrass, and he had begun her education.
	He shifted his gaze, to where Keritanima, Miranda, and Szath were near the sterncastle.  Keritanima was a Wikuni, the queen of Wikuna, a bipedal being that resembled a mixture between a human and a fox.  She had a human body, but had a fox-like head, complete with a muzzle.  She had reddish fur with white on her front, black tufts of fur on her ears and the tip of her tail, and amber eyes that gave people the creeps when she stared at them.  Tarrin thought that she was rather cute, for her fox features were flavored with human appearance, making her look more like a human woman with fox features rather than a fox walking on two legs.  All Wikuni were like that, resembling animals, but not all of them were foxes.  Most of the sailors on the ship were varieties of cats, dogs, and other carnivorous mammals, like badgers or wolves.  There were some bird Wikuni and some reptillian Wikuni as well, but they weren't as common as the mammal Wikuni.  Keritanima was sitting on a cushioned chair, reading from a book in her lap, as Miranda sat beside her in a similar chair and kept her eyes on her knitting as she conversed with her employer and friend.  Keritanima was very smart, easily the smartest of them all, but she didn't advertise that.  Keritanima--or Kerri, as he called her--was a woman of deep mysteries, a result of a lifetime of hiding her true self from those around her.  She was born a princess, but had no desire to take the throne, given the rather bloody and deadly environment of Wikuni politics.  She had thrown all her energies into escaping from her gilded prison and running away, and that caused her to submerge herself in other personalities.  Keritanima was the best actress he'd ever seen, able to fool anyone and everyone into believing that she was the person she pretended to be.  She had used her vast knowledge of political chicanery to succeed in escaping from her father, only to have him capture her and drag her back to Wikuna.  Tarrin still wasn't sure what happened there, but he did know that Keritanima had somehow managed to get her father abdicated from the throne and take it herself.  She didn't want it, but she had done it anyway, probably for no reason other than to get rid of her father.  Her Royal Majesty's resources had been incredibly useful during the battle for Suld.  Since she commanded the armies of one of the prominent nations on Sennadar, she was able to supply troops, materials, and even the deadly muskets and cannons that only the Wikuni knew how to make, to the defense of Suld.  When she wasn't acting like a queen, Keritanima was an engaging young woman, funny and endearing, with a good sense of humor and a vibrant nature that made people like her.
	Miranda was a mink Wikuni, almost criminally cute and innocent looking, yet Tarrin knew that the Miranda hiding under that deceptive facade was as worldly and seedy as a veteran sailor.  Everything about Miranda was feminine, from her voluptuous frame to her long blond hair and silky white fur, to her wide, cheeky face with a cute little button nose on the end of a short muzzle and round ears poking out of her blond hair.  Miranda was Keritana's maid, a member of her council of advisors, and also was the head of her intelligence service.  Miranda had served Keritanima faithfully and well for a very long time, since the time when she was a princess trying to stay alive long enough to run away so she wouldn't have to take the throne, and they were very close.  Tarrin liked Miranda very much, for she was smart, quiet, observant, and often saw to the core of the matter.  She had been trained by Keritanima, so she had some of Kerri's quirks, but she was much bawdier than her more uptight employer.  Miranda was attractive, sexy, and desirable, and she knew it.  She used them as weapons to get what she wanted from men, and that made her an incredibly effective spy.  Few men could think rationally when Miranda gave them her cheeky grin and fluttered her eyelashes at them, even human men.  Miranda's beauty and desirability crossed racial lines.  Tarrin knew alot more about Miranda than she did herself, like the fact that she was an Avatar, a mortal who had within her the power of the god who had touched her.  Tarrin had discovered that Miranda had literally been created to be Keritanima's companion, a woman with a mind to keep up with the vastly intelligent Wikuni princess, and a stalwart companion to be with her through all the hard times.  One of the Wikuni gods had put her hand on Miranda before she was born, made her what she was, even though Miranda herself had no idea that she was blessed in that manner.  Miranda supernatural nature had been what had attracted him to her at first, for the god who had touched her was a god of the sky and the moons, and Tarrin, like all Were-kin, had an unusual affinity for the moons that probably explained all the wild stories about how Were-kin always changed into monsters when the largest moon, Domammon, was full.  Miranda sang to him the same way that the moons sang to him, and it had a very calming effect on him and caused him to be very attracted to her.
	They were good friends, but they all knew that they took a second seat to Allia.  She was sitting with Dolanna and Dar near the bow, not far from Phandebrass and Kimmie, the petite katzh-dashi instructing them in some magic.  Allia was Selani, a race of warriors that lived in the eastern desert, and she was, simply put, the most breathtakingly beautiful woman alive.  No one could look at Allia and not be moved by her appearance.  She had creamy brown skin and ethereal features, sharp and alluring, with large eyes that were the color of the sea.  Her hair was a silver-white color, caused by the bleaching of the sun over generations, which often covered up the tips of her pointed ears.  Allia looked human from a distance, but when one got close to her, they saw that she obviously was not.  She was unnaturally tall for a woman--at least to a human--as tall as a human man, and had much sharper and more defined features than a human.  That sharpness of appearance was that made her so lovely, a bone structure that no human woman could possess that accented everything about her that was pleasing to the eye and made her so attractive.  The pointed ears were one of the big giveaways that she wasn't just a thin Mahuut, a race of brown-skinned humans, as did the fact that she only had four fingers on her hands instead of five.   This day she was wearing a loose, baggy shirt that concealed her very tight, busty torso, silky skin wrapping steel-toned muscle, yet possessed of enough bosom to make most women envious of her.  She wore a pair of tight leather breeches that accented her long, shapely legs and alluring hips, pants that made every male eye move with her as she passed.  She was beautiful, but Allia was a warrior, a proud warrior from a race of warriors, her entire life bound up in her honor.  Few outside the Selani understood the Selani, so they all did not understand Allia.  Most found her cold and arrogant, maybe even a little conceited, but they didn't understand Selani ways.  Allia was a warrior, and a good one, and she was also a woman who held tremendous honor among her people.  Allia was actually a very modest and self-effacing woman, but she was proud of who she was and what she had attained, and it showed in her manner and her speech.  Allia didn't talk very much, but when she did, everyone around her listened to her.  Allia was a wise woman, kind and loving, and she was Tarrin's best friend.  The love he held for Allia was so intense that it defied rational explanations, but it was a platonic love.  She would always be his closest, most intimate friend, willing to tell her things he wouldn't tell another living soul, not even his mate, Jesmind, because he knew they would go no further.  Allia's love for him was just as strong, and it formed the basis of a bond of friendship that could never be broken.  No matter what either of them did, or how far they fell from grace, they would always love one another and respect one another.
	He wondered what Dolanna was teaching them.  Dolanna was a human woman, very short and petite, yet with a figure proportionate with her size that made her attractive.  She was a handsome woman, not beautiful or cute like Allia or Miranda, with pleasing features and dark, expressive eyes and a thick mane of long, dark hair.  Dolanna was the undisputed leader of their group, the one all of them respected and trusted, for she was very wise, very learned, and had travelled for so long that she knew someone almost everywhere and was never caught off guard by the dangers of the road.  Dolanna was a calm woman, able to take what was thrown at her without getting too ruffled, and always with an idea for how to get out of a bad situation.  Tarrin adored Dolanna, respected her as much as his parents or bond-mother, and looked up to her.  She was the only one on the ship outside of Keritanima or Allia who could berate him or chide him for doing wrong and expect to live through it.  There was an aire of calm that always surrounded the woman, who was from the southern kingdom of Sharadar on the distant continent of Arathorn, a sense of assuredness that calmed everyone around her.  She was a careful, thorough woman with an eye for detail and an answer for every question .  He enjoyed her company, for she never failed to make him feel safe.
	He smiled as Dar touched the Weave, and wove an Illusion of a Troll for some reason.  Dar was a very young man, an Arkisian, with swarthy, dark skin and features that promised that he would be a handsome man when he was fully grown.  He wore this day a simple white linen shirt, his brown doublet laying on the deck before him, and a pair of black trousers, with leather shoes.  He was about sixteen now, just starting to shave, but despite his young years he was a very accomplished Sorcerer.  He had been Tarrin's roommate when he was at the Tower to learn,and had become a good friend.  Dar was a dreamer and an artist, with an almost amazing affinity for weaving Illusions.  But he was also a smart, worldly young man who was the son of very successful merchants, and because of that, had a very broad education that dipped into many different aspects of history, society, culture, and politics.  He was intimidated by the august personas around him, and rarely spoke, but when he was alone with Tarrin or Kerri or Allia, he was much more open and affable.  Tarrin liked Dar very much, for he was an honest young man with a very mellow nature.
	There was a sudden shout, and Tarrin looked almost straight down, to where Azakar and Camara Tal were sparring.  The Amazon had returned to wearing her halter and tripa skirt, and the ensemble showed much more skin than they concealed.  Camara Tal was a very tall woman, with copper-colored skin and hair as black as pitch, tall and buxom and sleekly muscular.  She was a very handsome woman, with a sharp-cheeked face, large, dark eyes under elegantly sloped eyebrows, and a sharp chin and narrow nose and a pair of pouting lips that drove men crazy.  She also had a scar on her cheek, the only mar on her coppery skin, a scar that she had told him once was something that her goddess wouldn't allow her to rem