ered with everything that was in it that he seemed to have trouble sometimes looking through it all to focus on what was going on around him.  He also had a slightly skewed idea of the world, behaving in manners that seemed outrageous or unbelievable to those that didn't know him.  During the battle at Suld, the Wizard had the unmitigated nerve--or perhaps the utter lack of sense--to stop right in the middle of the battle and start asking one of the enemy Demons questions.  Phandebrass' concept of reality seemed to be just a little bit different from everyone else's, for he saw nothing at all wrong with what he had done.  He had wanted to know, and in his mind, that made it more than proper to ask someone he thought had the answer.  The fact that it was an enemy that just seconds before had been trying to kill him didn't really factor into the equation that summed up the Wizard's view of the world.
	That was occasionally the problem.  Phandebrass had this very unnerving habit of ignoring the possible dangers of what he was working on, or the dangers things he was studying may pose.  A perfect example was what was now known in the Tower as the Carnivorous Clock Incident.  Phandebrass had received permission from Jenna to go through the lower cellars, where all manner of junk accumulated over five thousand or more years of the Tower's existence had been stored.  There were storerooms and passages--and even floors--that most of the modern katzh-dashi had no idea were even there.  Some had simply been forgotten over the years, and some had been actively sealed off and covered over to hide the fact that there had once been a door or stairwell there.  Phandebrass found just one such storeroom about two months after Tarrin left for Aldreth, and very happily emptied it and brought up several crates of dusty, moldy stuff into the library, where the Wizard did most of his work that didn't involve the occasional explosions his chemicals and other alchemy materials randomly produced.  The fact that he was moving things that the Ancients not only didn't use, but actively hid, never occurred to him.  The idea that some of it may be dangerous also never dawned on him.  He took it all up to the library and set it on the main tables without a care in the world, then just opened the crates and started rummaging through them.
	Then, Phandebrass being Phandebrass, he got distracted.  Sevren had come in and asked him for help finding a very obscure book on the ancient Sha'Kar, and they got involved in a debate about ancient history.  Phandebrass turned a blind eye to those crates, at least until the screaming began.  One Initiate, who had just arrived to study, got curious about what was in the crates sitting on the table where he usually studied, and had started going through them himself.  His howling brought Phandebrass back to the real world, when the young man jerked his hand out of a crate with a small pendulum clock clamped onto his forearm using jaws that had been hidden behind the clock face, and two angry little eyes, complete with wooden brows, over them to complete the face of the clock.  Instead of immediately trying to get the clock off the Initiate, Phandebrass instead asked the boy if it hurt, and if his arm felt icy or numb, which were indications of possible venom.  He even pulled out a book and wrote down the Initiate's frenzied screams for help as if they were the answers to his questions!  When the clock let go of the boy's arm, leaving a rather serious bite wound, its pendulum divided into four little legs and it dropped to the floor, then proceeded to chase Initiates and katzh-dashi around the library with shocking speed, biting anyone it could chase down.  The thing was strangely resistant to Sorcery, and it seemed to ignore Phandebrass completely, only trying to chase down and bite Sorcerers.  Phandebrass decided that it was more interesting to study the thing instead of using his Wizard magic to contain or subdue the ancient magical device.  As it ran around the library, chasing any Sorcerer that moved, Phandebrass ran behind it with his book in one hand and a quill in the other, scribbling hastily and trying to get the clock's attention to see if it was intelligent.  Only after most of the library had been cleared, as the clock jumped around and pawed at a bookshelf, upon whose top were perched four terrified Initiates, a Novice, and even two startled katzh-dashi, did Phandebrass finally conceive of the idea of capturing the device with magic.  Not to keep it from climbing up the bookshelf to bite those atop it, but to get a better look at it when it wasn't running away from him.
	It wasn't entirely Phandebrass' fault.  The Initiate should have known better than to stick his hand in the chest, but Phandebrass had several opportunities to trap the clock while it ran around biting people.  Instead of that, he tried to study it instead, totally oblivious to the simple idea of what might have happened if that clock had turned around and attacked him.
	Jenna had had a conniption, of course, and ordered the boxes back into the cellar, to be sealed up once again where their contents couldn't cause any more trouble.  However, the clock disappeared during the journey to the cellars, and Initiates now spread rumors that it was stalking the halls of the Tower, seeking to catch a Novice or Initiate off guard and eat them.  In actuality, it was hanging on the wall in Phandebrass' laboratory, one reason why no Sorcerer really wanted to go visit the Wizard in his laboratory.  Every time a Sorcerer came close to it, its eyes opened, it opened its mouth and showed off its impressive rows of sharp triangular teeth, and then struggled mightily to free itself from the peg to which it had been securely affixed.  Phandebrass fed it dead mice or scraps from the kitchens from time to time, which kept its clockworks running smoothly as if it were an animal who needed food to survive, and it seemed perfectly content with its meals and its official job as timepiece for a Wizard who often forgot what month it was.  Phandebrass dubbed it the Carnivorous Clock, but for some odd reason, he named it Percy.  It seemed to like the name, and would even answer to it.  Phandebrass was quite proud to own it, as well as quite happy to study it from time to time to figure out who had made it and how it was done.
	That was one of the few absolute ultimatums under which Phandebrass had to operate in the Tower.  He was absolutely forbidden from making another one of those contraptions, or even trying.
	Sometimes Phandebrass' scattered nature was as much a danger to them as it was to the enemy, but Tarrin had always respected the addled Wizard's mind for one simple reason.  When he was focused, when his curiosity was piqued and something had his full attention, there was no solution that could hide from him.  When he was serious about something, he could unravel almost any mystery, research almost any solution, and find the answer to almost any question.  During those times, the repeating, absent-minded, slightly befuddled Wizard seemed to evaporate, leaving a clear-minded, concise, driven, energetic, and very, very intelligent fellow in his stead.  Tarrin had often thought that Keritanima had to be the smartest person he had ever known, but when Phandebrass was focused on finding the solution to a problem, he could give his Wikuni sister a serious run for her money.
	Clearly, Phandebrass was in one of his more scattered phases, for he stood in the doorway for almost a full minute before thinking to come in.  But when he did come in, he moved like a large animal was pushing at him from behind, charging into the room and almost jumping into one of the chairs, slapping a book down onto the table with a loud smack of leather meeting wood.  His movements made Tiella flinch a little, but Tarrin and Dar didn't pay this much mind, as they'd seen it before.  "Phandebrass," Tarrin said in greeting, waiting for the delayed response.
	It came about ten seconds later.  "Tarrin!" he said brightly.  "I didn't see you there, I didn't!  I say, how have things been?"
	"Things have been just fine," he answered, stroking Chopstick on the head fondly.  Jasana had lured Turnkey off his other shoulder, and was holding the drake with a practiced gentleness that told of her education about the natures of the little animals.  Tarrin had owned a drake--at least what he thought was a drake--and had enjoyed it tremendously.  Drakes were smart, affectionate, very sociable animals, easy to train and always happy to be whatever was needed of them at the moment.  They took a little maintenance and had some rather peculiar habits, but all in all they were wonderful pets.  Chopstick nuzzled his fingers happily, then hiccupped.
	Smoke came out of his mouth.
	Tarrin gave the drake a steady look, then looked to Phandebrass.  "Has Chopstick been drinking out of the beakers in your lab?" he asked curiously.
	"I say, the smoke?  No, lad, no.  Didn't I tell you?"
	"Tell me what?"
	"I must not have.  How thoughtless of me," he said absently, starting to pad the pockets of his robe and the little pouches in his belt over and over.  "I say, I put it here somewhere."
	"Tell me what?" he pressed.
	"Oh, didn't I tell you?"
	Tarrin snorted slightly.  "What did you need to tell me, Phandebrass?"
	Jasana started giggling, but Jesmind inobtrusively swatted the cub on the back of her head to remind her of her manners.
	"Oh, yes, the drakes!  It's quite a development, it is!  Chopstick and Turnkey have started breathing fire!"
	Tarrin gave him a long look,  then blinked, remembering Sapphire.  Back when they all thought Sapphire was a drake, including Sapphire, she had the ability to generate electrical attacks.  Chopstick and Turnkey were true drakes, not shapeshifted dragons, and he didn't think they'd have any special magical powers like that.  Some drakes did have magical powers, like the blue drakes, but these two had never showed even a hint of such things.
	"Breathing fire?  Isn't that a little hard on your clothes?" Dar asked in surprise.
	"I didn't know they could do that, I didn't," he admitted.  "I had to do some research on drakes, and it took a little while, it did.  It turns out that some drakes, like the reds, don't manifest any magical capability until they reach a certain age, they do.  I say, Chopstick and Turnkey are just reaching full adulthood, they are, and it turns out that that's when the powers of red drakes mature."
	"I thought Sapphire said they didn't have any powers," Dar said to Tarrin.
	"She did," he frowned.  "Maybe she only meant at that time."
	"Maybe Phandebrass did experiments on them," Jasana proposed.
	"I found out that not all drakes of a species have powers, I did," the Wizard continued, either having not heard or actively ignoring the Were-cat cub.  "The fire-breathing of red drakes is somewhat rare, it is.  I say, it's rather unusual that both of them have manifested the ability.  Perhaps exposure to my magic over the years triggered it in them.  I say, what an idea!" he said suddenly, raising a single finger towards the ceiling.  "I must write that down for further study, I must!  Now then, where is my book?" he asked himself, starting to pat his pockets and pouches once again.  Tarrin pointed before him, at the book, and the Wizard gave him a grateful thanks.  "I say, now where did I put my quill and ink pot?" he asked after tapping the book with a finger, as if to make sure it was real, then returned to checking his pockets.
	"Have you eaten yet?" Jenna asked the Wizard.
	"Me?  Let's see now," he said, pursing his lips.  "I think I did.  I say, I distinctly remember going into the kitchens.  Was that today, or last ride?" he asked himself.
	The door opened once more, and before Tarrin even looked up, the very faint scents of Keritanima and her company reached him.  He looked up quickly to see his sister in the doorway, with Miranda to one side and Rallix to the other, and two massive, hulking forms hovering behind them, the huge bodies of Binter and Sisska.  Tarrin stood up and hugged his sister when she came into the room, then hugged Miranda in a similar fashion.  When he got that close to her, he could scent something disquieting about his rambunctious friend, a somberness of some sort that had stained the fringes of her scent, something she was quite admirably hiding behind a mask of happiness.  Miranda was a good actor; in her line of work, being able to lie believably was of utmost importance, and that was little more than acting.  Somehow, he had the feeling that it was something he'd need to broach with her in private.  Were it a problem she'd feel comfortable taking to Keritanima, his sister would have fixed it already.  He kept an arm around the mink as he shook paws with Rallix, then struck his forearm against the forearm of Binter, and then Sisska, the ritual Vendari greeting.
	"You're here early," Jenna said as she hugged Keritanima.  "I thought you'd be here last."
	"I figured everyone would be here by now," she yawned in reply.  "Where is Allia?"
	"Not here yet," Tarrin answered.
	"You mean I dragged my tail out of bed in the middle of the night and she's not here yet?" she fumed, putting a hand to her amulet.  "Allia!  We're all waiting on you!  Get over here now!"
	"My, she's in a good mood," Jenna remarked to Rallix.
	"My wife has been having a little trouble at home," Rallix said without much amusement.  "The nobles are causing trouble again."
	"We'll be there in a little bit," Allia's voice emanated from Keritanima's amulet.  "We've been delayed."
	"What did she say?" Jenna asked.  Allia had spoken in Selani.
	"She said she's been delayed," Tarrin told her.  "What did the nobles do this time?"
	"We just found out two days ago that some of the larger houses have been very quietly and very slowly stockpiling gunpowder," Rallix told him soberly.  "That is not a good sign.  It means that they think they'll be going to war soon."
	"Neither Jervis nor Miranda have had a whiff about this," Keritanima said sourly.  "Whatever they're planning, they're doing a damn good job of keeping it under wraps."
	"Well, I'm sure that Jervis will find out," Rallix said confidently.  "He's quite good."
	"He should be.  He cut his teeth playing against me," Keritanima said shortly.
	"What about Jenawalani?" Tarrin asked.
	"None of the nobles really trust her, because they know she's my horse," Keritanima answered.  "They know that anything they say to her gets back to me."
	"That's obvious.  Have you mended fences with her?"
	"We're cordial, but that's about it," she answered.  "I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive her for some of the things she did to me when we were younger.  I can trust her to keep me informed, but only because her noble house survives at my pleasure."
	"Have you eaten yet?" Jenna asked.
	"Before we left," Keritanima said, brushing past Jenna to hug Jasana.  "There's my little spoiled brat!" she said happily, squeezing her as she picked her up.  "How have you been?"
	"I've been okay," she answered.  "Do you have any presents for me?"
	"Not this time, cub," she said with a smile.  "You know I can't give you anything with your parents here.  You know how stuffy they are," she said with a wink in Tarrin's direction.
	"I don't object to presents, but you go too far," Jesmind told her.  "That china doll with the solid gold mesh gown was a bit much."
	"I thought it was lovely," Keritanima protested.
	"Oh, it was, but she broke it about two minutes after she took it out of the box.  Tarrin had to put it in our room after he used magic to put it back together."
	"How did you break that doll, Jasana?" Keritanima asked.
	"She tore off its head to see what was stuffed inside it," Tarrin said bluntly.
	"Jasana!" Keritanima said in surprise.
	"She's too young for things she can't play with, Kerri," Jesmind told her.  "If you want to give her gifts, give her toys.  Cheap, expendable toys."
	"That doll was a toy."
	"A toy for a Were-cat cub, not a human girl," Jesmind clarified.  "She won't appreciate the doll until she's more mature.  Until then, it stays out of her reach."
	"I still think it's not fair," Jasana huffed.  "How about a pet?" she asked brightly.  "Eron has a pet.  Why can't I have one?"
	"Because you'd kill it," Jesmind told her straight out.  "Eron loves Sandy, and he's always very, very careful with her.  You're nowhere near that gentle."
	"I can be careful," she flared.
	"Until you lose interest in it, then you get careless," Jesmind said, staring into Jasana's eyes.  "As I recall, you said you'd be careful with the doll.  And I don't think it would do much good if Tarrin put the head back onto a pet we got for you."
	"It's not fair," she complained.
	"You're already pretty deep in the hole for your past exploits, cub," Jesmind said flintily.  "I'm not stupid enough to trust you until you prove beyond any doubt that you're trustworthy."
	Keritanima had drifted away from the argument to marvel over Kimmie's twins, lauding praise on Kimmie over how big they'd gotten, and how pretty they were.  She acted like she hadn't seen them in months, when in reality she'd seen them just five days ago, the last time she came to visit.  Kimmie looked quite radiant sitting there with someone lavishing attention on her and her babies.
	By the time she finished, Allia and Allyn opened the door and entered the room.  Allia had a fresh bloodstain on her shirt, inu blood, but she didn't look like she'd been fighting at all.  Allyn had a slightly wild look in his eyes, and his hands were trembling a little.  "What happened to you?" Keritanima asked acidly.
	"We had a short dispute with a pack of inu before coming here," she answered lightly, taking Tarrin's paw and then giving him a warm hug.  "They saw things my way quickly."
	"You bloodthirsty savage," Keritanima laughed, then hugged her.  "What started it?"
	"They tried to kill us!" Allyn said, his voice a bit hysterical.
	"I take it it was his first time?" Tarrin asked Allia.
	She nodded.  "He didn't do that badly," she said, giving him a critical eye.  "But he threw aside the Dance and used Sorcery when they marked him.  I'll have to break him of that."
	"I'd like to see you try!" Allyn said hotly.  "I've seen Kedaira play, but I never dreamed they could move that fast!"
	"Inu are pretty rough customers, Allyn," Tarrin told him.  "If the Selani respect them, you know they have to be dangerous."
	There was a short, briefly flat look that exchanged between Allia and Jula.  They didn't exactly get along, because Allia had been hostile to Jula before she won the trust of the rest of them, and though Allia had forgiven her, Jula hadn't forgotten it.  Allia had wanted to kill Jula, and in a way, Allia had never forgotten that it was Jula who had been responsible for Tarrin's ferality and all the grief he suffered because of it.  Neither could forget, though both had forgiven.  Whenever Jula and Allia were in the same room, the tension became palpable between them.  But that look passed quickly, as Allia's face and eyes softened as she hugged Jenna and then greeted Tarrin's children fondly.
	"I say, I think that's all of us," Phandebrass announced.
	"Ianelle isn't back yet," Jenna told him.  "She went to go get Iselde a while ago."
	"Iselde's coming?" Allyn said brightly.
	"She's going to Abrodar with us, if only to visit Auli and you before you leave," Jenna told him.
	"I have to fetch Darvon," Jenna said.  "He and Azakar are coming.  Darvon's decided that he's my personal Knight.  He won't let me leave the Tower without him."
	"It's the Lord General's personal duty to see to the safety of the Keeper, Jenna," Tarrin told her.  "That means that if he's not busy or if he feels he's not personally up to the task, he goes with you."
	"What happens when he is busy?" Rallix asked.
	"He sends the best Knight he has," Tarrin answered.  "Probably Azakar, or maybe Ulger."
	"Kargon is very good," Allia noted.  "He would be up to that honor."
	"Triana's not here either," Tarrin fretted.  "She said she'd be here."
	"Triana's going?  Why?" Allyn asked.
	"I say, she and Camara Tal are very good friends," Phandebrass answered.  "She wouldn't miss this event for the world, she wouldn't."
	"She went to go get Sarraya," Jesmind announced.
	"The bug's coming?  This should be interesting, then," Dar chuckled.  "I've always wondered what it would be like if Auli met Sarraya."
	"Let's all hope we can get Sarraya out of there before that happens," Tarrin said fervently.
	"It's getting a little crowded in here," Jenna noted, seeing that they were all packed around her dining table.  "Has anyone not eaten yet?" she called.
	Everyone was silent.
	"Alright then, let's all move down to the lawn outside the main door," she ordered.  "I'm afraid to move in here.  I might step on someone's tail."
	"For those of us who have them," Dar said with a smile.
	"It's your loss," Keritanima said airily, then she gave him a wicked smile.  "Do you want one, Dar?  I think I could manage that.  How about a nice bushy tail?  Or maybe a rat's whip-like tail, or even a pig's curly tail!  Oh, I know, I'll give you a peacock's tail, so you can display your plumage and impress Tiella!"
	"I like my butt unadorned, Kerri.  Thanks all the same," he said dryly, which produced several chuckles.
	The group of them--quite a large group, Tarrin had to admit--moved down to the lawn outside the Tower proper, which was neat and highly groomed by the army of gardeners that maintained the massive grounds surrounding and between the seven towers that made up the compound.  They stood and socialized warmly with one another, catching up on things and getting more familiar with the in-laws of the inner circle, Rallix, Allyn, and Tiella.  Tarrin had to hang back a moment and look them over, and he revelled a bit in just how right it felt that they were all together like they were.  Though not all of them had travelled with him the whole time, or even travelled with him at all, every one of them was a part of his family, even Allyn and Rallix.  They were sisters, brothers, dear friends and close confidantes.  From the boundless love that existed between him, Allia, and Keritanima to the calm confidence and utter trust he had in Binter and Sisska, from the warm friendship he had with Allyn and Rallix to the closeness he shared with Dar and Miranda, there was not a face there that he did not love in one way or another.  Though he was a Were-cat, fiercely independent and occasionally very demanding of his personal space, he couldn't deny the simple happiness, almost joy, he felt at them all being together in physical person once again.  Not all of them were there yet, as Dolanna, Azakar, Sarraya, and Camara Tal weren't with him quite yet, but their absences were only a temporary thing, and would soon be rectified.
	It was rather remarkable how such a widely, vastly different group of sentient beings had come together to form tight bonds of kinship.  Even Binter and Sisska, the most radically different of them all in terms of appearance and cultural personality, were tightly knitted into their inner circle, and they were as easily accepted as the two Vendari accepted the quirks of all the little races around them.  They were such a disparate group.  A mercurial Faerie, a pair of cunning Wikuni, a wise, regal Selani, a virtual pack of dangerous, unpredictable Were-cats, several formidable humans with their widely ranging personalities, and two powerful and honor-bound Vendari.  There were others as well, even more exotic, if not so tightly knitted into the core group.  An Aeradalla, a few Demons, a couple of Sha'Kar, and a dragon.  All of them so greatly different from one another, so different from their own kind in many ways, yet all of them had come together to form a tight bond that transcended race and culture.
	Four Knights quietly stood just to the edge of the group, all of them easily recognizable.  The most obvious was Azakar, whose trememdous size--he was a bit taller than Tarrin--easily set him apart from the other three.  The white moustaches of Darvon and his elegant, ornate armor barely contained the sense of authority that hovered around the man.  Scarred Ulger stood to Darvon's left, and beside him was the Knight that Allia had mentioned, a tall, rather burly fellow with a drawn, deceptively youthful face and curly red hair named Kargon.  Tarrin had sparred against Kargon a few times when he and Allia had been training on the Knights' practice grounds, and knew that the man was a solidly trained warrior, but it was Kargon's mind that Tarrin had respected.  Kargon was a wily, cunning opponent, and he was Tower-educated in the Noviate, a solid base to expand the young man's intelligent mind.  Kargon also happened to be Darvon's nephew, but he had never been given any preferential treatment because of his relationship to the Lord General, and didn't want any.  He was surprisingly young to be in the rather elite ranks in which he stood, but then again, Azakar was even younger than him.  Azakar and Kargon were what Darvon would call the future of the order, their best and brightest, being trained and groomed to assume command positions after the elders of the order either died or retired.  Giving orders wasn't something that Tarrin would associate with Azakar, however.  The young man's past made him quiet and unassuming, trying to avoid the eyes of the men holding the whips, as the virtual carpet of scars criss-crossing his back would attest.  Those kinds of habits would take half his lifetime to break.
	Before Tarrin had a chance to go over and talk to them, Triana arrived on the field, and she wasn't alone.  A blue blur zipped from her and almost struck Tarrin in the chest, and the tiny, piping voice of Sarray could be heard laughing happily.  She hugged him around the neck, perching on his collarbones to do so, and her earthy smell established itself in his nose.  Despite the fact that she occasionally drove him nuts, Sarraya was among one of Tarrin's closest friends.  He and the Faerie had crossed the Desert of Swirling Sands together, and that had brought the dissimilar pair of them very close together.  Tarrin was grim in his manner towards those who didn't know him--and many who did--who came across as a humorless, unpleasantly blunt male whose chilling stare could freeze boiling water and who demanded all around him to utterly obey any order he issued.  Those who knew him well found him to be a rather sober man with little patience and a surprisingly dry sense of humor.  Sarraya was the absolute opposite of him.  She was capricious, impulsive, fun-loving, and very easily distracted.  She loved playing pranks on people--everyone but Tarrin, that is, for she had not forgotten that rather poignant lesson--and could be unbelievably abrasive to others.  She thought it was great fun to harass, insult, and irritate people.  Despite the fact that they were diametrically opposite of one another in personality, theirs was a friendship that had not only endured, but had flourished.
	"Tarrin!  How are you, you big sourpuss?" Sarraya said in her tiny voice.  Everything about her was tiny.  She was barely a span tall, with blue skin and auburn hair and chitinous, multicolored dragonfly-like wings on her back which she used to fly.
	"I've been well, Sarraya," he replied fondly, holding out his paw for her.  She landed in it and sat down, dangling her legs over his palm and leaning back on her tiny little hands.  "Why haven't you contacted me lately?"
	"Triana said you were really busy with something, so I didn't want to bother you."
	"You, listening to someone?  Are you getting old or something, Sarraya?"
	She laughed.  "I guess I am.  You're a bad influence on me," she winked.
	Triana reached him, and to his surprise, she wasn't alone.  Along with her was a rather tall, sleekly thin fellow with dark hair and a well-formed face, slightly narrow with light bones.  Quite handsome.  Tarrin was surprised to see this man, for he hadn't seen him for years, and had only been his guest for two days, back in Dayis.  But this man actually wasn't a man.  His name was Haley, and he was a Were-wolf.  Something of a black sheep among Were-wolf society, for he preferred human culture and human luxuries over the forest.  Tarrin had distrusted Haley at first, for back then he'd been a Rogue and at odds with Fae-da'Nar, but after talking with him a while, he had actually found Haley to be intelligent and understanding, not judgemental as he first feared.  Haley had been the first outside of Jesmind to really teach him something about the Woodkin, and had been the first Were-kin Tarrin had encountered that hadn't either immediately attacked him or tried to kill him.  Tarrin remembered that Haley was a refined man, educated and witty, well-spoken and urbane, with a penchant for flattering ladies and a sharp mind that served him well in the cesspool of intrigue that was Dayis.
	"Triana said you got tall, boy, but I didn't expect another Triana!" he said with a light laugh.
	"Haley!" Tarrin said in surprised recognition.
	"You remember me," he said, somewhat pleased.
	"What are you doing here?"
	"The Circle of Hierarchs summoned me, and Triana was nice enough to come and get me and take me," he answered.  "That saved me a month of travel.  We got delayed, and I kind of got stuck along with her when she went to fetch that obnoxious Faerie.  I guess I'm along with you, wherever you're going."
	"You could always take a ship back to Dayis," Triana told him bluntly.
	"Well, I could, but I think I'd rather go with you," he answered.  "I get the feeling you're about to embark on a very interesting journey.  I think I'd like to get in on it, if that's alright with you."
	Tarrin shrugged.  "There's room for one more, given how many there are already," he answered.  "I doubt we'd even notice you tagging along."
	"Quite an interesting group.  Who are they all?"
	"I'll introduce you," he promised.
	"Is everyone here?" Triana asked.
	"I hope so, I'm not going to sit around here all day!" Sarraya announced.
	"We're only waiting for Ianelle, I think," he answered.  "She's the one that's actually going to get us to Abrodar."
	"Abrodar?" Haley asked in surprise.  "As in the capital of Sharadar?"
	Tarrin nodded.  "From there, we go on to Amazar."
	"Amazar?" he asked, then he laughed suddenly.  "You're 