"They do make things different," Tarrin agreed, shaking some of the water off of himself and throwing his braid back over his shoulder. "Is everyone alright?"

"I haven't had time to check, but by looking, I say yes," he replied. "I see no friends laying on the deck. I do see some bandages, though."

Tarrin felt something up against his leg. He looked down and saw the dazed drake huddled up against his leg as the other stayed close to it. That surprised him, for he didn't like the drakes, and they weren't that fond of him either. The poor thing was shaking; it must have been hurt more than Tarrin first thought. He was silently impressed at the two little reptiles, who would so brazenly attack a human being, who would fight such huge opponents to help defend the ship. Impulsively, he reached down and picked it up, cradling it in his arm, putting a paw over its winged back protectively to calm it. The other one beat its wings against the air to take off, then landed lightly on his shoulder and looked down at its injured companion.

"The war must be over," Renoit said with a chuckle, looking at the small reptile in his arms.

"At least until it feels better," Tarrin grunted.

"Funny. You nearly killed it a few days ago, and now it clings to you."

"I can't tell them apart," he said shortly.

"The one you hold is Turnkey. The one on your shoulder is Chopstick, yes."

Tarrin and Renoit watched the burning pirate ship as their own vessel put some distance between them. A rickety longboat holding the survivors was launched a short while later, and Tarrin watched as they rowed not towards the burning ship, but towards the southeast, probably towards some kind of base. "That smoke will attract attention, Renoit," Dolanna told him as she, Faalken, and Camara Tal climbed up onto the steering deck. "We should make all speed away from it."

"We already are, Dolanna," the circus master replied calmly.

"You're wet, boy," Camara Tal noted.

"The ocean tends to be wet, Camara Tal," he replied cooly. "Could someone go get Phandebrass? I think this one needs him."

"Let me see," Camara Tal said, coming over. She grabbed her amulet with one hand and muttered under her breath, then placed her hand on the drake's small horned head. Tarrin felt it shiver in his paws, and then it looked up at them with calm eyes, its shaking eased. "All better now," Camara Tal said with surprising gentleness, considering that her deep bronze-colored body was spattered with blood.

As if coming to its aid had broken the fear that they had for him, the drakes didn't immediately turn around and attack him. The one in his arms was content to stay there, at least for the moment, and its companion sat easily on his shoulder. Tarrin's hostility towards the drakes was centered mainly on the fact that they were hostile to him, so any animosity he felt for them drained away.

Allia and Dar came up on the steering deck. Dar looked a bit wild-eyed, but Allia's eyes were gloriously bright and energetic. She hadn't had a chance to really exercise for a long time, and seeing her fight was like watching a master artisan sculpting a masterpiece. The drake on his shoulder jumped off and flew over to her, landing in her hands and nearly cooing in delight when she began to pet it.

"What happened, brother?" she asked curiously.

"I had to pull that spear out of the ship," he replied. "It was too deep to just pull out."

"Ah. Everyone is well, Renoit. Only cuts and bruises."

"Good," the portly circus master nodded. "Now, let us run very fast."

"That's a good idea," Camara Tal grunted.

The battle with the pirates had opened Tarrin's eyes in two important ways.

Firstly, he realized that all it would take was one act of faith. The drakes taught him that. Just once, he had to overcome his fear and reach out to those he wanted to call friend, just once he'd have to convince himself that his instincts were wrong. The drakes had feared him because he was a predator, but his one act to protect them had convinced both of them that he wasn't an enemy. They still weren't completely comfortable around him, but they no longer hissed at him or tried to bite him as they did before. But knowing that was little comfort when he still had no way to overcome himself. He still couldn't struggle with the fear, still had to retreat from it, every time he had it in his head to try to make that one success with Camara Tal, or with Phandebrass. He was still too weak, but just knowing that it was only going to take one expression of faith bolstered him. Trying to live through that kind of terror constantly would have driven him crazy.

Secondly, he realized just how powerful magic really was. Not just his own magic, any magic. The five spellcasters on the ship had let a group of ten fighters overwhelm a force three times their number without a single fatality. Granted, the inhuman abilities of Tarrin and Allia and the exceptional skill of Faalken and Camara Tal would have allowed them to win without magic, but some of the performers defending the ship would have been killed during the battle, if not one of them themselves. Their magical power had overwhelmed the pirates from the beginning, had forced them to fight at a major disadvantage, if not culling down their numbers immediately to something the present warriors could manage. Phandebrass pinning about half the pirates on their own ship had been critical to keep the defenders from being too seriously overwhelmed. And the shock factor of the unusual magic both he and Camara Tal employed had confused and demoralized the opposition, throwing them into disarray and making it easier for them to be defeated. The perfect example of the power of magic had been Dar, striking the first magical blow and immediately altering the flow of the battle in such a way that allowed Camara Tal to strike in the most devastating manner with her own magic. Because of them, the battle had been won literally just as it began.

Tarrin had been trying to ignore the power of magic because of his own unique situation. His magic was incredibly powerful. In fact, it was so powerful that he couldn't control it. It was just as dangerous to him as it was to everyone around him, and that simple fact kept him as far away from it was possible. It was literally the reason Sarraya was with them, to keep his power from overwhelming him and killing him. His position made him want to stay away from magic, to stay away from the temptation to use it. It was why he skipped the lessons that Dolanna taught to Allia and Dar. He was a creature of impulse, and he knew that. To put himself in an environment where he was constantly exposed to magic, his impulsive nature would overwhelm his common sense, and then he would die in a very painful manner. Probably kill everyone within a longspan of him to boot. Because he had some very dear friends and his sister closer than that to him, he would not take that risk.

The battle with the pirates had intrigued him about magic once again, and not just his own. He had never studied the other orders of magic as thoroughly as he should have, and that left a large void of understanding as to how they worked. He may even be able to call on their magic in some minor way. Tarrin knew that because he wasn't mortal, he could use more than just Sorcery, he just figured that his access to those other types of magic would be as restricted as the Priest magic granted to the katzh-dashi. But he couldn't use Druidic magic, because that was an innate ability, just like Sorcery. He couldn't use Priest magic, because his Goddess already told him she wouldn't give it to him. That left Wizard magic, and so his attention had been affixed to Phandebrass.

Phandebrass was an unusual person. He had white hair and was very thin, making him look very old, but just one look at his face told the person that he was actually a man just going into middle age. He was actually a rather attractive man, in Tarrin's opinion. His doddering personality and infamous absent-mindedness reinforced the concept that he was old, maybe even senile, when it was just a simple matter of having too much on his mind to pay much attention to the real world. Because the drakes no longer feared him, it allowed him to visit Phandebrass in his lab in the hold of the ship, a large room with tables bolted to the floor, and strange metal rails lining them and forming little areas where glass beakers and even stranger things stood on the tables, the rails keeping them from moving when the ship swayed. Shelves had been built into the walls of the room for his many, many books, shelves with leather straps over the open areas to keep the books firmly secured. Phandebrass had adapted well to the hold and the unique challenges working on a ship could pose. He was working when Tarrin knocked and was bid to enter, carefully mixing a strange green liquid with what looked like water in a large glass beaker. His two drakes were on a smaller table in the corner, eating from a pair of bowls. "I say, come in, Tarrin," he said in his meandering voice, but his eyes were intent on the two beakers before him. "Just be quiet a moment, if you please, and don't stomp around. This is delicate."