Chapter 1

	It was a beautiful summer day, with a warm, gentle breeze blowing across a large open expanse of lightly rolling hills, caressing the tall grass with the lightest of touches as a brilliant sun shone from a sky dotted here and there with small, puffy little clouds.  Several hawks were soaring on thermals over the grassy hills, on the hunt for mice, rabbits, and other small birds, hawks who looked down upon a band of seven riders and four pack horses that made their way along a long unused track that left a grove of trees well in the distance behind them.  The hawks paid these travellers very little mind, busy as they were in their hunt for a meal, to feed their hungry chicks nesting in the very grove the travellers had just departed, the only substantial stand of trees for quite some distance in any direction.  The mice and rabbits lurking in the grass also didnt pay these travellers much mind as well, scurrying out of the way of their horses and keeping a mindful eye out for seeds and roots and tasty plants that grew in the midst of the grass, at least until the group got close enough for the scents of the travellers to reach them.  Then they fled.
	They fled because the smells coming from this group were alien, and one of them was the smell of a predator even if it wasnt completely understood.
	This group of travellers was certainly something that the animals in this area had never expected, for they had come from another world.
	Riding at their lead was a tall, handsome man with piercing green eyes, a long, thick blond braid, and riding atop a large, powerful black stallion.  He wore a simple pair of leather breeches, a white cotton shirt and a black vest over it, with sturdy leather boots upon his feet.  And much like every member of this party, he was much more than he appeared to be.  His name was Tarrin Kael, and though he appeared to be human, he was not.  He was a Were-cat, a creature infused with the magical gift of the common housecat, what many called a Lycanthrope.  Though he looked completely human, it was but one of the three shapes he could assume, and it was not the way he usuallly appeared.  His common appearance, the natural form of all Were-cats, was a hybrid form with both human and cat qualities, a human body but with hands and feet which were hybrids of hand and paw, black fur on his arms to just above the elbows and on his legs to just above the knee, vertically-slitted, piercing green eyes, and a pair of furry cat ears atop his head.  Just as he could take on the fully human shapethough it was no longer natural for his breed of Were-kin, and caused most Were-cat considerable pain to assumehe could also take on the shape of the common housecat.  His fusion with the Cat granted him supernatural strength, agility, dexterity, the ability to quickly regenerate wounds, and immunity to weapons which were not made of silver, imbued with magic, or were unworked weapons of nature, but it also imprinted the instincts of the cat into his mind.  That was the curse that came with those powers, and it had nearly destroyed him.  He was a very young man, but the trials of his life gave him a bearing and a demeanor that made him seem to be much older, which probably suited him better anyway.  His was a commanding presence, even in his human form, strong and powerful and radiating a quiet, sure strength that never failed to intimidate those who did not know him and remind those who did of just who they were dealing with.
	Not that they ever forgot.  Tarrin was, quite simply, one of the most powerful beings in his world.  His Were-cat nature gave him overwhelming physical advantages, but it was his powers in magic which made him such an unstoppable force.  He was well trained in every form of magic known on his world, one of only a very, very rare few capable of using more than one order of magic, but it was the fact that he was a being known as a MiShara that stood him apart.  He was one of only two, and they were capable of exceeding the limitations of the mortal realm if the need was great enough, and wield more magical power than any mortal could hope to control.  He and the Urzani Sorceress Spyder were the only MiShara, and they were beings who were all but invincible on their own world, Sennadar, blessed with these incredible powers to be used in the defense of the world itself against the titanic forces who sought to invade their home world and take its powerful magic for themselves.
	Of course, the secret behind the secret of Tarrin Kael was what was hidden within him, for he had once been an actual godfor about ten minutes.  He had used a mighty artifact from his world called the Firestaff to become a god in order to destroy another god, the dark and evil god Val.  He had been restored to life, and though he was no longer a god, the infusion of divinity into him had altered his very soul, and over time he had regained minor aspects of his lost power.  The representation of that power came in the form of a pair of wings made of living fire that had become a part of him some years ago, limbs more than wings whose size and shape he could control with but a thought, which he could hide when the needs suited him.  They were hidden now, locked into his back where they were anchored to him and covered over with his own skin.  He was a mortal but had certain aspects of a divine being, what they called a demi-god, a condition that caused him not a little trouble on his home world, for the gods there were afraid of him.
	But this was not his home world of Sennadar.  This was a brand new world, an unknown world, and he had come in search of those who had fled here thousands of years ago to escape a terrible war which had been fought in Sennadar, as well as coming in search of two of his friends who had been forced to come here, so he could take them home.  He was rather excited about the idea of it, truth be told, coming to an exotic, unknown world where nothing could be taken for granted, where there was an element of excitement, even danger, and trouble could be lurking behind every corner.  The problem with invincibility was that it became boring after a while, and here, in this unknown world, there was that aire of danger that made it exciting.  It made it even more exciting in the fact that his Sorcery, Druidic powers, and his ability to use Priest magic all did not work here.  He could still use Wizard magicthat worked just about everywhereso at least he had some kind of magical reserve to call upon if things got hairy.
	He blinked and looked down at a small black snake that slithered lazily across the path of his horse, and he wondered idly if the snake was venemous.  Then he wondered if it was aggressive, then he wondered if it was edible.  It looked like a common blacksnake, but there was no way to be sure of that, for this was a different world and nothing here could be taken for granted.  This place felt like the Desert of Swirling Sands to him, a place where everything contained a hidden danger and everything had to be treated with caution and respect.  They just didnt know what was dangerous and what was not, so they had to be careful to treat everything like it was a potential threat until they knew one way or the other.
	He led six other mounted horses, and they were seated by some of the best his world had to offer.  That was why they were here.  Immediately behind him was Mist, who looked like a small woman with tan skin, unruly, short black hair, and hawkish, sharply handsome features and sharp green eyes that made most people uncomfortable to look into for very long.  She too was a Were-cat, hiding behind an Illusion of how she appeared in her human form, and currently she was his mate.  The others knew all about Mist, so he was sure there wouldnt be too many messy incidents, for Mist was feral.  Ferality in Were-cats was a dangerous trait, for she was like a wild animal inside, and she was capable of tremendous violence if she felt afraid or threatened.  The problem was, a feral Were-cat feared everything that was not intimately familiar, everyone who was not a known and trusted friend.  Mist was more than feral, though.  She was a rough, crude, blunt woman who didnt see life the way any of the others did, and to her it was perfectly acceptable to make someone shut up by clawing a gash over his face as it was to tell him to be quiet.  But despite her volatile demeanor and propensity for violence, she was a surprisingly patient, insightful woman who had a great deal of common sense, and was much more intelligent than she seemed.  Tarrin had learned to respect Mists opinions over the years hed known her, for she often saw right to the heart of the matter, and her advice was usually good.  She was also an unusual mate.  Were-cat society was based on pure, physical strength, and in Mists eye, Tarrin was dominant, which caused her to obey him utterly and without question, something that she just did not do with anyone else but Triana.  His prior mates had not acted like that with him.  Jesmind fought him every day, and Kimmie used clever manipulation to get him to do what she wanted, but Mist never did any of that.  She would suggest a course of action, but would never try to force him to take her advice.  She obeyed him without question and was always demure around him.  She was also violently defensive of her mates body and his reputation, and would not tolerate anyone disrespecting him in her presence.  Mist was devoted to him in a way hed never seen any female devoted to a male before, and sometimes he wondered if it was an entirely healthy situation.
	Behind Mist rode Dolanna, a very small woman with dark hair, dark eyes, and who was the real leader of this expedition, dressed in a modest riding dress of soft brown wool with skirts divided for riding.  Dolanna was a vastly wise Sorceress who was always calm and measured, and never panicked.  She was their leader, a fact even Mist accepted, and they all felt better with her being among them.  Dolanna was a very even-tempered woman who thrived in this kind of situation, where she could apply her cool logic and use her aire of confidence to keep the others settled down.  Even though she had lost her powers when they arrived in this new worldSorcery didnt work hereshe was still the most important member of their party, and they all held her in the highest respect.  He had known Dolanna for a very long time, and he always felt much more confident when she was with him.  She was a friend and confidante, someone who understood him in ways that most others did not, a close friend who he respected so much that his Were-cat nature saw her as a mother figure, and someone to which he deferred without argument.  Much as Mist obeyed him, he obeyed Dolanna, because he saw her as the dominant.  They all did that, truth be told, for to put your trust in Dolanna was to put your trust in the competent hands of a woman who would not let you down.  She always spoke with stiff formality, but her eyes and her expressions were always soft and gentle, and just her presence was enough to settle people down.  Dolannas wisdom and her ability to react quickly and concisely to unknown situations made her perfect for this mission, but he was more glad she was along because of their friendship.
	Always near Dolanna was Azakar, a truly monstrous young man riding an equally monstrous horse, wearing a full suit of black plate armor.  He was nearly half again as large as a normal man, though he was entirely human, a hulking, powerful Knight whose massive body hid a gentle, almost child-like personality.  Azakar had been a slave for much of his life, and the abuse he had suffered at the hands of cruel masters made him very quiet and reserved, never wanting to draw attention to himself.  The hideous scars from the lash that made his back look like a dry lake bed had not scarred his personality, for he was a caring, compassionate young man who took his duty to protect Dolanna very seriously.  He was what the Knights had in mind when they created the order; dutiful, modest, skilled, kind, and filled with powerful resolve.  While he was there, nothing would get close enough to Dolanna to even think about hurting her.  Tarrin and Azakar had had their fights in the past, but they never lost their respect for one another.
	Also near Dolanna, though he wasnt being open about it, was Haley.  Haley was a Were-wolf, a quick-witted fellow with a fast tongue and a propensity for dabbling in crime.  He wore a dark blue wasitcoat and breeches of Shacan make, the cuffs of his white shirt ruffled with lace, flared black leather knee boots, and a sleek rapier hung from his belt which he could use with frightening efficiency.  Tarrin rather liked Haley, for he was a sober-seeming Were-wolf with a sly, sardonic wit and who still appreciated humor, and was one of the few people who could make Tarrin laugh.  He was along mainly because of Dolanna.  They had known one another for a very long time, and though Tarrin couldnt prove it yet, he had the feeling that Haleys feelings for Dolanna extended well beyond the bounds of friendship.  He never seemed to push it or reveal it, however, content to simply be Dolannas friend, for harsh reality assured that they would never be anything else.  Dolanna was human, he was a Were-wolf, and that made any kind of relationship absolutely impossible.  Despite that, though, Haley was a welcome addition, for he understood the baser nature of humankind in a way that probably only one other person in their group could come close to matching.
	That person rode behind Haley, looking thoroughly miserable in the summer heat when theyd all been dressed for winter, and her fur made it even worse.  Her name was Miranda, and she was a Wikuni, a race of beings who resembled bipedal animals of many different kinds.  Miranda was a mink Wikuni, with sleek, soft white fur and a human body, but with a head and face that was a combination of the best traits of human and mink.  She was, by far, the cutest little thing hed ever seen in his life.  She had large, expressive blue eyes, and cute little mink button nose affixed to a softened muzzle, and a cheeky grin that would disarm absolutely anyone with its charm.  Rounded mink ears poked out of a very thick expanse of luxurious blond hair, and a thick, lush tail peeked out from under a heavy brown wool robe, which was also blond; Miranda was an exotic Wikuni in that her tail was the same color as her hair, which often wasnt the same color as a Wikunis fur.  But Miranda was one of the most exotic Wikuni of them all, for she was an Avatar, a mortal blessed by a god upon birth, and carrying certain abilities that exceeded mortal kind.  Miranda hadnt known that until just a few years ago, and finding out caused her to have a crisis of self-identity.  She had left them all to discover who she truly was, and had returned just a few months ago as a Priest.  This was quite a surprise to just about everyone, for Miranda never seemed the type to be a Priest.  She was a cunning, sly, dangerous young lady who had served her friend and queen, Keritanima, as a maid, a spy, and also as an assassin when the need arose.  She was a very formidable woman who understood politics better than anyone but maybe Keritanima or Tarrin thought she did, and had made a career out of tricking people into underestimating her.  It still seemed odd that she was a Priest to Tarrin, for her personality had not changed at all.  She was still the clever little girl he remembered, all disarming smiles while those cunning eyes stripped one of all his secrets and left his soul bare to her whim.  Only a fool would think that Miranda was not the second most dangerous person in that group.  Mirandas god, however, seemed perfectly alright with having a Priest with her kind of personality, for she was a truly powerful Priest, one of the strongest he had ever seen, capable of magic that most other Priests couldnt even dream about.  And unlike Tarrins own Priest magic, she could use hers here.  The fact that she was an Avatar allowed her to do so, and her magic was the way they were going to get home.
	Behind her, minding the pack horses, was one of the little problems in this group. His name was Ulger, and he was also a Knight.  He was a burly, slightly tall middle-aged man with a shaved head and a face criss-crossed with several scars.  Ulger was a very good man in a fight, one of the best fighters the Knights of Karas could field, and Tarrin did kind of like him, but he had this bad habit of saying the absolutely wrong thing at the right time.  Putting a muzzle on Ulger was something that he was already considering.  Ulger had a nasty wit and a sly way of delivering his barbs, but he was also a fun-loving fellow who was just as much at ease being the brunt of the joke as he was the deliverer.  There was a strange lack of self-consciousness about the scarred Knight that Tarrin could actually respect, for he was just as quick to laugh at himself as he was at someone else.  Despite his tendency to blurt out the wrong thing to say, he was a very jovial, friendly man who was growing on the others as much as he grated on them, but also knew exactly when to drop his joking and get serious when the need arose.
	Ulger was a gift from the gods in more ways that just one, though, for Sarraya seemed strangely attracted to the Knight as a recipient of her scathing wit, flitting around his head and being as annoying as possible to him.  Sarraya was a Faerie, a race of very, very tiny blue-skinned beings with gossamer, multicolored, dragonly-like wings.  She had a head full of short, curly auburn hair that clashed with her blue skin, and wore a gauzy dress that looked to be made of spiderwebs.  She was one of Tarrins closest friends, but that friendship came with it a certain need for tolerance.  Sarraya was a flighty little thing, impulsive and lacking in self control, with a razor for a tongue and a need to unleash it on everyone around her.  Though she was a pain much of the time, she was a solid and true friend, caring and giving, and he loved her very much for it.  Though she, like Haley and Tarrin, could not use her Druidic magic on this alien world, she could still use the magical power blessed to her by her race, which was the ability to turn invisible.  Since she was an exceedingly tiny thing, able to fit in the palm of his paw easily, the fact that she could fly, go almost anywhere she wanted because her small size let her squeeze into openings no other could, and could turn invisible made her the ultimate spy.  She should have died when she came here, for she was bound to their homeworlds magic, but she had found a way around that.  That was much in line with Sarrayas personality.  She was very un-Faerie in that she was capable of exceptional bouts of determination and self-control if it was necessary, used usually when she was trying to get something that was denied to her.  She had wanted to go, and she kept at it until she found a way to do it.  Telling Sarraya no was a virtual guarantee that she was going to do it, no matter what it took.
	They were a diverse group with a wide range of skills and abilities, but that was what they needed to do what they came here to do.  They were here to find out what happened to the Dwarves who fled their homeworld five thousand years ago, them and the Sorcerers who had come with them, and they were also here to track down two of their own, Kimmie and Phandebrass.  They had been forced through the gate to this world two months ago by an avalanche, and they were now lost in this alien world.  That was their first goal, to find them, and then they would continue on with their original mission.  Tarrin had hoped that his friends would be camped at the gate waiting for them, but they had not, so now they were following their trail.  Haley, Tarrin, and Mist all could track it if it was necessary, so that wasnt much of a problem, but it was not knowing where they were or what trouble that crazy Wizard was getting Kimmie into that worried him.  Hed already tried using his amulet to contact her, but it didnt workand hed more or less expected that.  The ability to use the amulets to talk to others depended on the Weave, and there was no Weave on this world.  The magically charged items still workedwhy, he had no idea, for they should notbut that function specifically depended on the Weave to be used, and without the Weave to carry the message, it wouldnt work.
	Right now, Miranda was providing their direction.  She used a Priest spell that she called Find the Path, which was letting her track where Kimmie went, tracking her as easily as any of the Were-kin could without requiring them to crawl around on the ground snuffling for a scent like a bloodhound..  She had imbued Tarrin with the spells effect instead of herself, and it was guiding him without fail along the exact path that Kimmie had taken when she passed by here two months ago.  He could see the hoofprints of her horse as a ghostly radiance on the grassy plain that trekked off into the distance, and he was leading them along it.
	It was odd that his vision wasnt socluttered.  Usually, the strands of the Weave were interlaced within his vision with the real world, and he was forced to separate them.  And here lately, hed been starting to see, well, he could only call them patterns.  Textures, shimmering forces, things he thought were magical focused around places, things, and people.  They were faint and easy to ignore, but they were new, and Tarrin didnt like new.  He guessed that it had to do with this new world, or his condition, but for now, it was really nothing to worry about.
	He knew that his condition was letting him see and hear more than the others, for they couldnt hear the welcoming.  Hed started hearing it as soon as he got here, and it had been getting both stronger and more joyous since he first noticed it.  He didnt know where it was coming from or who was doing it, but someone was very happy that he was here.  That surprised him a little, for he privately thought that hed be as unwelcome here as he was at home.  The gods of his world were terrified of him, for he was a mortal who had access to power that no mortal was ever meant to wield.  That power was locked away from him, locked within the sword that he had created when he was a god, and had survived the destruction of his divine body.  The sword was sentient after a fashion, and it held within it the power to transform his mortal body into something truly divine, and that gave him access to the divine power he had once wielded as a god.  It decided when the need was great enough to take that drastic step, however, and it was very, very picky.  Only once had it ever done that, when he was fighting a nightmarish magical creation of the god Val, whom he had destroyed, a creation that had been born in Vals destruction and had been tasked with killing Tarrin to avenge his death.  That was the event which had given him his wings, wings of pure, living fire which were now an integral part of him, a touch of divine magic that forever marked him as different from everyone else
	Perhaps the gods of this world werent quite as high strung as the gods of his own.
	It was a world that was amazingly similar to Sennadar, from what hed seen so far.  Strolling along this grassy, low and gentle hilly area was almost like running along the steppes of western Araks savannah, except for the lack of raintrees.  The grass smelled just like grass from home, and theyd already seen quite a few animals they recognized and, after inspection, discovered were exactly like the animals from home.  Mice, bees, birds, flies and other insects, all were easily recognizable and exactly like home.  There were some differences, however.  The sky here was eerily empty, lacking the Skybands that striped the skies of his home, and there was no sense of magic here at all.  This worlds natural energy, what he would call the All, was radically different from what was at home, and that was what was causing them the most trouble right now.  That major difference weakened him and the other Were-kin, for they drew power from the All which fueled some of their quasi-magical abilities.  They could all still shapeshift, but their magical strength was greatly reduced, and experimentation had shown that the Were-cats ability to regenerate was greatly weakened here.  They still could not be permanently hurt by weapons not made of magic, silver, or an unworked weapon of nature, but wounds that would have instantly closed at home took minutes to mend here, and the aggravated accumulation of small wounds could kill them just as easily as it could kill any human.  That was a very important thing to know, and it meant that theyd have to approach any battle with a measure of caution.
	In a weird twist of things, however, that loss of strength was offset slightly, for there was something odd going on with all of them that seemed to cover that a little.  All of them, even Dolanna, were stronger than they had been at home.  He didnt understand how that could be, but it was most certainly the case.  Dolanna, who was a very small, slim woman, could pick up items her own weight with only moderate difficulty, when she would have barely been able to get them off the ground at home.  In the case of the Knights, it was very noticable, for they moved with a spryness of step that made it look like their armor was made of silk instead of steel.  Even the horses were affected, for they moved as if there was nothing at all on their backs.  For the Were-kin, it was a very noticable decrease in their strength, but this strange strengthening stacked onto what magical strength they did still possess still gave them superhuman physical power.  Tarrin couldnt jump thirty spans into the air in his natural form here like he could at home, but he figured he could make fifteen easy.
	Not that he really needed to jump.  Tarrins wings gave him the power to fly, and unlike most of his other magical abilities, his divine-imparted powers were still a part of him.  Since that power came from within him, it didnt depend on the magical power of any dimension, and thus worked absolutely anywhere.  The only catch was that in order to use any of his divine magic, he had to have the wings out, and that meant giving away the fact that he was not what he appeared to be.
	That was an important consideration right now.  They hadnt come across any sentient beings yet, but they had no idea how the people of this world would react to exotic circumstances.  They were assuming that there were humans here, but that was just an assumption based on the fact that humans were the most populous race of their world, but they honestly had no idea what they were going to encounter, and how they were going to react.  Tarrin had wanted to bring his pet Hellhound to help find Kimmie, but Dolanna had overruled him on the grounds that Forge may be too exotic, and might cause them problems.  He definitely would if the beings of this world had experience with Demons, for hed have a very hard time trying to explain how he came to be the master of a dog from the Abyss, and he doubted theyd listen when he told them that Forge wasnt evil.  That was why he and Haley were in human form, and Mist was concealed behind an illusion of how she appeared when she was humanunlike him, Mist couldnt hold her human shape for any amount of time without it causing her painand Miranda was hidden under a heavy, voluminous robe to conceal her Wikuni heritage.  Sarraya was too small to see from a great distance, and she could simply turn invisible whenever she wished to hide.  Humans may be exotic here, but at least anyone who would see them would see seven similar beings, and that similarity might prevent some grief.
	They crested a hill, and Tarrin reined in his horse as he looked down into a very shallow valley that had a brook rolling along its bottom, but it wasnt the small stream which had his attention.  Down and to the right was a thin muddy scar that ran down one hill, across the brook, then up the other hill and out of sight.  The glowing trail turn towards that line, and Tarrin fully understood why it did.  That was a road, and Kimmie and Phandebrass had turned to get onto it, to find some kind of civilization.  Mist and Dolanna came up to either side of him, and they all slowly gathered around the crest to look down.
	I take it she went to the road? Dolanna asked.
	Tarrin nodded.  Looking for civilization, he said aloud.
	Not a bad idea, Miranda observed, fanning the front of her robe.
	I think we should stop for lunch, and then continue, Dolanna announced.  We have been riding for hours, and I am growing hungry.
	Lets move down to the stream, Ulger proposed.  We can test the water, and if its drinkable, we can use that instead of wasting our own stores.
	Sensible, Dolanna nodded.
	They moved down and found a flat spot by the brook not far from the road, whose trampled condition hinted that others had camped in this very spot, for it was a flat stretch immediately beside a slow-moving pool in the brook, which had remarkably clear, clean water within it holding several large fish.  They let the horses graze on the grass as Dolanna and Ulger took out some bread and cheese for them to eat, and Tarrin, Mist and Sarraya went down to the pools edge.  Mist hunkered down on all fours and sniffed at the water tentatively, then put her hand in and brought it to her lips.  Its safe, she announced.  Then, her eyes glittering dangerously, her paw whipped into the watter, plunging into it with a sound like she was ripping the surface, and it recoiled as quickly as it entered, bringing with it one of the larger fish at the bottom of the pool.
	Hey, can you fish a couple more of those out? Miranda asked.
	If you want to eat them raw, Dolanna advised.  We do not have the time for a fire.
	Azakar made a slight face, but said nothing, but Miranda chuckled.  Raw is fine with me.  Wikuni arent as squeamish as you humans.
	Raw fish is a delicacy in Shac, Haley said.
	Everything is a delicacy in Shac, Ulger said with a grunt.  Ive never seen people who eat snails and frogs.
	You just dont have a sense of adventure, Ulger, Haley told him.
	Ill do my adventuring with my sword, not my tongue, he announced.
	Perhaps cooki