ostly white radiance around it that announced to them all that it was in contact with the Weave.  The others rested and grabbed a quick meal, but Tarrin did not move a finger while they were doing so, did not speak.  When the others were ready to go, Tarrin did not move, forcing them to wait on him, which seemed to them to be counter to what they were doing.
	But they didnt understand.  Timing was everything.  The battle with the red dragon on ShaKari had taught him that brutal lesson.  Timing was everything, and he was not going to mess things up by getting there at the wrong time.  The optimal time to reach Pyros was sunset, and the engagement with the One should take place in the dark of night.  In that environment, with no daylight to diffuse the light of his wings, their brightness would serve almost as well as the sun in the face of a charging army.  They would attract the eye, and when his sword dipped in front of them, it would be lost in the background light of them.  That would give him the advantage.  It also gave Mist plenty of time to find Kimmie and get into position, for what she had to do was also a matter of critical timing, and he wanted her to have plenty of time to be ready.
	And so, he caused them to wait a while, then he finally deigned to allow them to go.  They flew for most of the midday and afternoon, and as they moved north, he became aware of the gnawing sensation that he knew was the One ahead of him.  They were close enough to sense one another now, and he felt a sudden explosion of anger and anticipationand not a little excitement.  The One was looking forward to this, wanted to fight.  Tarrin, on the other hand, only emanated raw, naked fury, so much so that the One could not possibly feel anything else.  That also served to prevent the One from sensing that Tarrin did have a plan, and it had already been set into motion.  From what the One could feel from Tarrin, all he knew was that the Were-cat was so angry that he barely contained any rational thought.  The One probably thought that that gave him an advantage, but he didnt understand the complexities of his opponent, whose mind was effectively layered.  He was able to be that angry and think at the same time, because the Cat did all the raging while the Human did all the thinking.  The duality of his mind could often be as much an asset to him as it was a liability, when its unique aspects were used the correct way.
	Tarrin stopped them one more time about a half an hour before sunset, when the spires and towers of Pyros were just beginning to become visible over the northern horizon.  He did not sit this time, only stood there with his sword in his paw, still as a stone.  The only thing that changed about him was that the glowing white radiance around his sword flickered, and then vanished.  He turned to look to his side, then extended a paw and pointed his open palm at the ground some spans away.  A sudden blast of fire issued forth from his hand, striking the ground and swirling around itself, and it remained after Tarrin ceased the gout of flame, burning angrily in the grass, remaining even after it consumed its fuel, but not spreading from where it was burning.  He then reached out with his paw and wove a frighteningly complicated Ward that was nearly five hundred spans across, a dome of absolute protection that would stop any magic from crossing its boundary, and canceling all magic but Sorcery within it.  No Demon could Teleport within their midst, and the Ward would render their magic unusable.  That would give them the ability to kill them relatively easily, for few Demons were a match for Azakar, Ulger, or Haley in a battle with weapons, and the magic of Miranda and Dolanna would destroy them quickly.  He pointed at the ground, and a fire erupted from the ground, burning brightly and without fuel, in the middle of an open area that would serve as a good camp.
	Stay here, Tarrin finally spoke, sending his gaze over them all.  This is as close as you can get.
	For what, dear one?
	For you to stay safe, he answered in a detached manner.
	But were still two leagues out of Pyros, Ulger objected.  Itll take us ten minutes to get there from here!
	Tarrin fixed Ulger with such a penetrating, emotionless stare that it made Ulger flinch.
	Uh, I think that Tarrin means that were much safer way over here, Haley said lightly.  And well be out of his hair.
	Well said, Miranda nodded soberly.
	Tarrin spread his wings and rose just slightly into the air, looking down at them.  Wait here, he ordered.  Ill be right back.
	Tarrin, be careful, Dolanna warned.  Remember, he is a god, and Pyros is filled with Demons who will aid him against you.  He will have powers, just as you do, and may know magic.  Do not underestimate him.
	I wont, Tarrin replied.  I dont have to kill him to win, Dolanna.  Remember that.  All I have to do is get to Kimmie.
	Dolanna nodded knowingly.  May the Goddess light and love shine down on you and protect you, my dear one.
	Tarrin closed his eyes and nodded his head ever so slightly, then turned and flew off towards the north, towards Pyros, and towards the One.
	Do you think hell be alright, Dolanna? Miranda asked, reflexively reaching out and putting her arm around Zyris shoulder, as the little girl watched Tarrin fly away with frightened eyes.
	I think that if all goes as he envisions, then he will be well, Dolanna said, then she took hold of her amulet in a steady hand.  Well, on to matters, then.  We need something to eat.
	The others got down to the business of preparing the evening meal, for now they could do nothing other than wait.  But Zyri stood in place, hugging Fireflash to her breast, simply watching Tarrin dwindle into the distance, until only the light of his wings could be seen, and then well after even that was gone from her eyes.  She did not move, she only looked to the north with an expression of haunted fear.  Tarrin, the scary non-human who had shown her such kindness, was going off to fight with the One.  She knew what had happened to him, that he was more than a mortal, but he also made sure to explain to her that he was by no means a god.  And now he was going off to fight with a god.  The others seemed to think that he could win.
	Well, if he could fight a god and win, wouldnt that make him a god?  Maybe he was, and he just didnt know it.  Adults loved to say that, that people were this or that, and just didnt know it.
	Either way, she was worried about him.  In his own way, him and Mistress Mist had become like her own mother and father, taking in her and Jal and caring for them, teaching them things, showing them kindness, even a little bit of love.  For two orphans, that was more than they could have ever dreamed to get.  She often felt lost and confused traveling with this group of people from another world, but no matter how lost she was, just feeling like she belonged with them, that they like her and her brother, that they didnt throw them out after Telven betrayed them, was all she could have dreamed about.
	And now Master Tarrin, a towering figure of authority, of power and strength, and a surprising wellspring of wisdom and guidance for her, was going away to fight the One to get back his friend.  And he was doing it without showing a whit of fear.  She always felt so safe when he was near, so protected, knowing that he was so strong and he would protect her from whatever would do her harm.  And oddly enough, she still felt safe and protected, even knowing that he was gone and where he was going, what he was about to do.  But it didnt lighten the burden of worry from her heart.
	Be careful, Master Tarrin, she whispered in Penali.  How rarely they used her native tongue now, always speaking in that Sulasian language that Tarrin had taught her with magic, but speaking words from her heart itself.  Come home soon.

	Sunset.  The last sunset that Pyros would ever see.
	Tarrin had traversed the distance to the large city quickly, then, when he got within a longspan of it, he landed on the well-worn road leading to Pyros and began walking.  Every step brought him more and more into focus, prepared him for what was to come.  He knew exactly what he was going to do, exactly how to make it happen, and went over the steps of it in his mind over and over again as the Cats rage built with each step, drowning out those rational thoughts to any Demon or god that might try to eavesdrop on his thoughts.
	This had to be a physical confrontation.  Tarrin was well aware that the Ones magical power far outstripped his own, because the One was a god.  He had a full charge of Sorcery and every Wizard spell he could comprehend memorized, but he knew that it might not be enough.  The One would have the innate powers that were a part of him, part of his being a god.  Every god had those kinds of powers, just like Tarrins mastery of fire, but the Ones would be different, because he was a god of mortals rather than of a natural force.  Tarrin would be at a disadvantage in that regard, because the One knew what Tarrin could doroughlywhile Tarrin had no idea what powers the One possessed.  On top of that, the One could certainly use magic.  He doubted that a god who hated any non-Priest magic would actively use Wizard magic, but Tarrin knew that he could use every Priest spell that existed, because gods could use any spell that they could bestow upon a mortal, and the One was a powerful enough god to grant the most powerful spells to his Priests. So he had to take it to the One with his sword, force the One to deal with him weapon to weapon, try to take magic out of the game as quickly as possible.  It had to be a loud and explosive confrontation, to alert Mist that he was there and that he had engaged the One, and give her time to get to Kimmie.  Then, after Tarrin felt that Mist had had enough time, he would simply disengage from the One and attack the Ones cathedral.  If the Ones icon was in that cathedral, and Tarrin could get to it, then the battle was over.
	Tarrin didnt have to fight the One to beat the One.  The battle was nothing more than a stalling tactic.
	Oh, but there would be some serious fighting.  Tarrins fury demanded ripping out the Ones eyes and stuffing them down his throat.  If he could kill the Ones physical manifestation, his avatar, before going on and destroying his icon, well, that was just that much better.  He doubted that he could do it, but it would be very, very wonderful if he could.
	The gates of Pyros stood before him, closed, and were heavily manned with both human guards and Demons.  Vrock, Glabrezu, Hezrou, and Nalfeshnee, the four lowest rungs of the strongest of Demonkind, were present on that wall and in front of that gate, waiting for him.  Behind that gate was a very large city built of reddish stone, the same reddish stone as the steep-sloped volcano which stood behind the city itself.  The roofs were covered with gray slate, and the architecture was crisp and exacting, much different from the rude mud hovels of the serfs and the ragged timber buildings in most of the smaller towns.  This was the pinnacle of Pyrosian society, and they held back their riches and glory for themselves and themselves only, as if to make Pyros seem even more grand by making it beautiful while actively keeping all other holdings of the One ugly and poor. It spoke much of the Ones mentality.
	Tarrin came to a stop some distance from those front gates, studying them.  The One was not here.  He was not going to meet Tarrin immediately, he wanted Tarrin to fight his way through his minions.
	Very well.  That was his first mistake.
	He started forward, walking at an inexorable pace, as if nothing was going to prevent him from moving forward.  But every step became longer and longer, and his pace quickened with each step, until he went from a walk to a blistering run, sword bursting into flame as he took it up in both paws, just before his feet left the ground and his wings snapped out, carrying him forth along the ground like a diving eagle.  He did not rise his feet more than a finger off the ground, displaying with his actions his intent to go through that gate rather than over it.
	The Demons all took on a surprised expression when they realized that they could not Teleport to him.  The Ward that Tarrin had woven to protect them while they were flying was still active, and it was centered on him.  When they came within the Ward, their magic would no longer function.  They quickly formed up in front of the gates, vrock carrying their glaives while the other Demons intended to use nothing but claws, teeth, or fists.
	Not that it would help them.
	Tarrin rammed into the very center of their line like a Wikuni cannonball, sword over his head, then he whipped it down on the vrock in the center.  The vulture-like Demon raised his glaive up to defend itself, but the burning sword sheared through the metal haft of the weapon and cleaved the Demons head in two.  The Demon fell back, but Tarrin turned and drove the tip of his sword into the chest of a hezrou, then ducked under the lunge of a Glabrezus pincers.  That pincered hand sailed away with the stroke of Tarrins sword, then the Demon squealed in agony when a dozen fiery lances erupted from the inside curves of Tarrins wings and plunged into its body.  Those lances withdrew, and then Tarrins wings divided into irregular tendrils, then spread out.  The Demons found themselves facing a foe not with wings, but with an innumerable number of ropy, whip-like tendrils attached to his back.  And to their horror, they discovered that the Were-cat could move each one independently.
	It was like fighting a foe with twenty arms.  The Demons were immediately pushed back as those whipping tendrils whizzed around in a dizzying frenzy of motion, striking with such force that they cut into the bodies they impacted.  A few Demons backed away from him fearfully, some lifted their arms to protect their faces, but the armed vrocks pressed in, using the reach of their weapons to strike at the Were-cat from outside the seeming range of his fiery whips.  All five vrocks lost their heads as a pair of whip-like appendages expanded in length and slashed across their necks, each whip changing trajectory to strike true as it passed from the last victim.
	Using the sudden reel of his foes, Tarrin reformed his wings and turned on them with his sword.  Black blood flew with every stroke of his burning sword as the staggering Demons found themselves overwhelmed by the raw fury of his attack.  The Were-cats face twisted in a snarling mask of pure hatred and Demons were struck down with every blow, overwhelmed by the ferocity of his attack and off kilter from losing their ability to use magic.
	After striking down the last Demon, surrounded by pools of smoking black sludge, Tarrin turned on the gates themselves, massive gates of brass-banded hardwood and with a portcullis before it.  Tarrins paw suddenly was engulfed in flame, flame that coalesced and brightened, until he leveled his paw at the gates and unleashed that might.  A concentrated blast of fire, hotter than anything the humans and Demons above the gatehouse could imagine, blasted out from the enraged Were-cats paw.  The fire was not red, or yellow, or even white, it was blue, and when it struck the portcullis, it caused the metal to instantly wither away like wax thrown into a bonfire.  When the fire struck the wooden gates, it caused the wood to explode, sending shards of fiery wooden splinters flying for hundreds of spans in every direction.  The shockwave of that detonation shattered what was left of the gates, and collapsed the red stone archway over the gates.  Stone squealed and men screamed as the gatehouse collapsed into the passageway, causing a cloud of dust to billow out from it in both directions.
	There was a moment of eerie silence, as the last of the echoes of the collapse bounced back to them, and before the moans of the injured in the twisted wreckage of the gatehouse became too loud.  The air around Tarrin became hazy, like the shimmering of air over a hot rock in the desert, and when he moved forward, blackened imprints were left behind from his feet as he walked.  Tarrins eyes glowed green in the fading light, backlit by the brilliance of his fiery wings, and the shards of wood in the wreckage upon which he tread as he climbed over the ruins of the gatehouse burst into flame as he pass over it.
	In dramatic fashion, Tarrin had gained entry into the capitol city of the Ones large empire, Pyros.  And he was there to destroy it.
	I HAVE COME! Tarrin bellowed in a voice that was impossibly loud for any mortal being.  The sound of his voice shook the dust from the rafters of buildings across the entire city, shattered windows, and terrified the population of Pyros.  COME OUT AND FACE ME, YOU COWARD!  YOU WANTED TO FIGHT ME?  THEN STOP COWERING IN FEAR BEHIND MY MATE AND FACE ME, YOU SPINELESS DOG!
	Tarrins wings suddenly expanded to five times their normal size, then they collapsed in on him as he turned his power on himself, became the fire, and then caused himself to assume a different form.  The fire of him expanded, extended, grew to immense dimensions, then it vanished from him in a wave of flame as it left flesh and bone behind.  Tarrin had again assumed the form of a gold dragon, and that dragon keened a mighty roar that again shook the foundations of Pyros, then he turned his massive head, craned his neck as he sucked in his breath, then unleashed a hellish inferno of fire on the buildings to the right of the street leading in from the gatehouse.  The stone was volcanic rock, highly resistant to heat, but even that was no defense against the withering might of Tarrins breath weapon.  Slate exploded, reddish volcanic rock shattered, and everything within those buildings was either melted to slag or burned to ash in the blink of an eye.  Tarrin sustained his breath weapon, raking it across a large swath of the city block adjoining the city gate, leaving behind a massive fire in his wake when he finally ceased the blast.
	Demons again rushed at him from the walls, but Tarrin simply turned his head, sucked in his breath, and then unleashed another cone of fire.  Demons were immune to heat and fire, just as he was, but they could not resist the force of the blast, as all that superheated fire and air slammed into them like an avalanche.  They leaned into the cone of fire, protecting their faces, but one by one they lost purchase and were sent flying, tumbling along the ground.  And when the fire ended, they didnt think quite fast enough.  The first one never saw it coming as Tarrins monstrous forepaw crushed it into the red bricks of the ground, which now glowed a ruddy red from being superheated.  Tarrin was not native to this world, and neither was the dragon form which he occupied, so the Demon had no defense against him.  There was nothing left but a black smudge among shattered red bricks.  The second one saw it coming, but couldnt Teleport itself to safety.  It tried to do that first without thinking, without realizing that Tarrins Ward was still up, and it too was crushed into a liquid by Tarrins titanic weight.  The others, realizing that they had no magic and nothing but teeth and claws against a creature so massive that they could do little more than bite at its feet, scrambled up off the ground and fled towards the open land beyond the shattered gate.
	Tarrin let them go, turning his head back to the city.  He unleashed yet another blast of fire to his left, setting another massive fire among the ruins of what was not instantly destroyed, then he turned and unleashed the last of his fire at the walls themselves, killing several dozen city guardsman who were scrambling about in fear and confusion.  His gas sacks were depleted, and he could use no more of his breath weapon.
	But the form had served its purpose by intimidating the Demons into giving up.  The massive dragon form turned to flame, then dissipated, leaving nothing behind but Tarrin, wrapped within his own wings, at the center of it.  He unfurled his wings and lightly descended to the ground.
	Obviously, Tarrin was not going to draw out the One with wanton destruction.  It seemed that he didnt care about the state of his city.  The One wanted him to come forward before he acted, for some reason.  He didnt understand why.  The One should have come out the instant he arrived, to defend the city, but he did not.  He was allowing Tarrin to advance, maybe all the way to the cathedral itself.  Was he that arrogantly overconfident?  Was he going to allow Tarrin to come within striking distance, confident that Kimmies captivity would stay his paw?
	Spreading his wings, Tarrin rose into the air and lifted himself above the buildings, then started towards the cathedral.  But when he did so, he sensed an immediate reaction from inside that cathedral.  He distinctly felt a sense of manifestation, as the direct might of the One came from wherever he truly was and took solid form here, in the material plane.  That convinced him that the Ones icon was definitely in that cathedral, and that his decision to abandon destroying everything along the way and just come right after the One had provoked a reaction.  He didnt understand why, though.
	On the far side of the city, a massive column of light descended from the heavens and illuminated the golden dome of the building, and there was a strange harmonic hum shimmering in the air.  The One was resorting to theatrics, Tarrin realized in surprise, because his material form was already here.  The light became incandescent, almost too bright to look at directly, and then it began to wane.  Within the light was a silhouette, a form that became visible as the light faded from around it.
	It was the One.
	He resembled a human, wearing gleaming silver plate armor and carrying a broadsword and a kite shield with a center spike.  He had no helmet, showing a perfectly handsome face and piercing blue eyes to the world, as well as a head full of platinum-blond hair that was long and flowing, pulled back from his face in a tail.  And to complete his majestic appearance, he had a pair of feathery wings on his back, spread out as he appeared, and then folded behind him.  A nimbus of soft light surrounded him, and even from that distance, Tarrin could tell that he was at least twenty spans tall.
	Cease, minion of evil! the Ones voice boomed in Penali across all of Pyros, echoing off the volcano behind him.  Thy reign of terror ends here!
	The sight of the instigator of the abduction of his mate caused Tarrins control to waver, then succumb to the fury within.  He gave no frilly speeches, no dramatic standoffs, he simply charged at the One with such speed that he left a trail of flames behind him with a furious howl that was nearly as loud as the Ones booming voice.  Tarrin was only dimly aware of his body briefly becoming pure flame, becoming the fire, then expanding.  When the flames extinguished, his body was larger, the same size as the Ones, some part of Tarrins mind having made him big enough to fight the One weapon to weapon.  Tarrins sword had enlarged as well to stay the same size to Tarrin, and he held it in both paws as he streaked directly at the glowing god.  The One moved forward to interecept him away from the cathedral, flying but not using his wings.  He raised his sword and shield as Tarrin advanced upon him, ready to do battle.
	The first contact between them sent shockwaves through the city.  Tarrin reared back with his sword over his head as he careened at the One, then brought it down with every fiber of his being.  The One blocked it with his shield, and the impact between sword and shield created a brilliant flare of light and a cascade of angry sparks to rain down on Pyros.  The One staggered back through the air with the raw power behind the blow, and there was a look of shocked surprise in his eyes.  But Tarrin did not relent, immediately striking again, and again, not bothering to try to get around the  Ones defenses, instead beating directly on his shield, falling back on the classic Ungardt tactic of shield destruction.  The Ones entire body shuddered as the burning blade of Tarrins sword impacted his shield, sending a steady rain of glowing sparks raining down on the city below.  Tarrin did not relent, striking with such raw power and such speed that the One could do nothing but protect himself with his shield, until one particularly savage blow, where Tarrin turned in a full circle and chopped at the One like a woodsman cutting down a tree, sent him careening back and put a charred slash through the gleaming metal of his shield.  The Were-cat immediately took one paw off his sword and began chanting in the discordant language of magic, making a single gesture with his free paw.
	A bolt of jagged lightning issued forth from his paw and blasted through the open space between them, but the One was quick to counter.  He raised his shield and presented it to that attack, which struck it and harmlessly reflected away, lancing through the night to Tarrins left.  The lightning created an earth-shaking BOOM that shuddered the entire city.
	Foolish mortal, thy magic has no effect on a god! the Ones voice taunted within his mind.
	Tarrin did not even think a reply.  The attack had served its purpose.  It was never meant to harm the One.  But it was a loud declaration that Tarrin had engaged the One in battle.
	The nimbus of light brightened around the One, and he surged forward.  He pointed his sword at Tarrin, and Tarrin felt a wave of raw power issue from the gods material form, as a god unleashed his divine might into the world.  An incandescent blast of power raced towards him, but Tarrin simply slithered to the side like a skimmer on the surface of a pond, then his wings snapped out and he hurtled forward with his sword leading, closing the distance before the One could try again.  He could not allow this to become a battle of power; it had to remain a physical confrontation, or he would lose.
	The One assumed a defensive posture, his feet looking as if they were standing on solid ground, and met Tarrins blow with his shield.  Tarrin did the same, putting his feet on a solid nothing beneath them, and continued his frenzied assault.  The Ones face became serious as the Were-cat unleashed a flurry of quick, shallow slashes with his huge weapon, moving it with dizzying speed and grace.  The One barely managed to keep up with that whirling blade, which trailed flame as it moved that distracted the eye, blocking with his shield or parrying with his broadsword when the weapon came at him from the right instead of the left.  Tarrin raised his weapon and started a downward chop, then shifted the angle of the blade with such speed that it totally fooled his foe.  Tarrins sword dipped under the edge of the shield, slashing across the metal of the Ones armored greave, leaving a deep rend in the metal protecting his shin.  There was a brilliant burst of sparks and a strange bluish light emanating from that slash through his armor, and it effectively wiped the smirk off the Ones face when he realized that he was facing a master of armed combat.
	Tarrin had scored first blood, and it infuriated the One.  With a howl of furied outrage, the One pressed in, his broadsword dancing with the grace of a flitting Faerie, but Tarrin was more than capable of keeping up with it.  Tarrin parried a series of light strokes and several shallow stabs with ridiculous ease.  The One was a fencer, and fencers relied on speed and deception.  But the Ones fighting style was crude compared to many warriors Tarrin had faced in his life.  His style was simplistic and relied on speed, but against Tarrin his speed was no advantage.  Forget a demigod, the One would lose a battle with Allia or Tsukatta hands down.
	Unless it was all a feint, of course.  The One suddenly pressed Tarrin with a blindingly fast series of slashes at Tarrins head, but Tarrin had little trouble dealing with this sudden onslaught, for he was still slower than Tarrin.  The One had been hiding his true speed behind a deceptive feint, then unleashed his full speed in a burst to try to take Tarrin off guard, which was admittedly a clever tactic.  Tarrin had done the same thing himself many times.
	Whats the matter? Tarrin hissed in a low growl.  Having trouble battling a mortal, even with a sword and shield?  Here, let me make it more interesting for you.  Tarrin took his left paw off his sword and extended the Cats Claws, then immediately put the One on the defensive as the god had to deal with a truly stunning array of lightning-fast attacks from both the sword and the five lethal blades extending from the Were-cats left paw.  Despite the large difference in reach between his huge sword and the claws on his paw, Tarrin managed to use them both, slashing his sword against the Ones shield, continuing to concentrate on that defensive barrier, then lunging in with the Cats Claws and driving them before him like a spear, or raking them at the edge of the Ones shield, or turning the back of his paw to the Ones sword and parrying it away harmlessly.  The One became so consumed by trying to protect himself from the sword and Cats Claws that he left himself totally open.  So, when Tarrin struck heavily with his sword against the Ones shield, then slashed the Cats Claws against its edge, he was totally surprised when the Were-cat spun in the air and brought out his foot, claws out and leading, and smashed it into the Ones pretty little face.  The claws caught him just in front of the ear and hooked his jaw, and they dug into his flesh and ripped nasty gashes through his face as the foot continued along.  The pad on the ball of his foot hit him right on the edge of his mouth, and they sent teeth flying as the Ones head was snapped to the side.
	The One spun to the side, then staggered back and righted himself, a gauntleted hand to his face.  His face was a mask of outrage and fury.  You, you, you hurt me! he screamed incredulously, taking his hand away to reveal three deep gashes in his cheek, one of which cut clear through and into the cavity of his mouth.
	Tarrin just glared at him viciously, then quickly pulled in his arms.  His wings snapped out, and a dozen slender lanc