She was chained to the wall of his lab by a special chain and neck manacle that were magically strengthened. He kept her around to study her condition, and she made a marvelous motivational tool for keeping his minions and agents in line. It was amusing to watch her rip apart those he had thrown into the perimiter of her leash, and such object lessons motivated the others to perform up to his expectations.

Such a delicious situation. Send her to Dala Yar Arak and simply let her loose, let her killing and rampaging destroy any chance the Were-cat would have of moving around unhindered. And perhaps he would meet her out there on the streets, would see the one who had chained him up. He would love to see that. Jula's madness would probably be a match for the Were-cat's fury. She may even kill him.

Either way, she would serve his purposes.

"I have a job for you, my pet," he told the insane Were-cat in a purring voice. She recoiled from him, learning even in her madness to fear the pain that the cold mage dished out. "A job I'm sure you will enjoy."

He gave the Were-cat a hauntingly eager look, one that made her press up against the wall with a terrified look in her mad eyes. "You have to go meet your maker."

They were under way.

Dancer was surrounded by water under a favorable wind. The sky was cloudless with a bright sun, bright enough to completely hide the Skybands. Tarrin flinched from that light as he exited the stairway from the cabins, stepping out onto the deck for the first time since Faalken was killed. He hadn't talked with anyone else or even seen anyone else. Dolanna had probably kept everyone out of his room, even Allia, because of his state. He couldn't blame her for that. She had no idea what he was capable of doing, after all. Dolanna probably just had everyone leave him alone, letting him come out when he was ready.

Poor Dolanna. She and Faalken had been travelling companions and friends for a very long time. She was probably crushed over his death. It made him feel a pang of severe guilt, and for a moment he worried that she would blame him. That caused an irrational terror to rise up in him. Dolanna was a close friend, and he loved her in a very special way. If she rejected him, he wouldn't know what would happen.

She should blame him. He was responsible. But part of him didn't want her to.

The sight of the performers, faces to which he had grown accustomed a while ago, suddenly seemed threatening, intimidating. They were strangers, unknown, dangerous, and the sight of them caused a powerful impulse to rise up in him, almost like fear. He knew they were harmless, he knew that some of them were actually rather nice, but he just couldn't help it. Faalken's death had left him uncertain, emotional, and that triggered something deep inside that made him fear the strangers-the enemies-around him. He looked at them and felt anger for some reason, a towering anger that was hard to control.

Allia saw him first. She literally bowled an acrobat over running to him, screaming his name. When she reached him, however, she came up short in the act of throwing her arms around him, staring up into his face. She looked him directly in the eyes, and then her eyes seemed to soften. A tear formed in the corner of those glorious eyes, and she hugged him in a fierce embrace. "I'm so relieved to see you, brother!" she said with a sob, in Selani. "We were all worried about you!"

He held her at arm's length, looking at her flawless beauty, a beauty that seemed to soothe his anger and pain. "I guess I'm alright, sister," he said in a quiet voice. "Starving, but alright."

"You've been in your room for three days!" she said emphatically. "I wanted to be with you, but Dolanna said you were better off to be alone, without me there to distract you. I have no idea what she meant by that."

"I think I do," he said emotionlessly. "She was right."

She gave him a long, searching look. "Tarrin, Faalken-it wasn't your fault," she said gently. "He died in combat, with honor. He saved Dolanna and Dar. Don't dishonor his memory by torturing yourself. There was nothing you could do."

"There was plenty I could do, Allia," he replied. "But I didn't do it. That's my burden to bear. But I'm not going to dishonor his memory, and I'm not going to torture myself. The Cat wouldn't let me do that even if I wanted to. I'm just going to go on. It's what he would have wanted me to do."

She gazed at him lovlingly, then leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "I don't think you know, so I'll tell you. Sarraya is well. We found her after the battle, unconscious. The shield broke both her arms and most of her ribs. Camara Tal healed her, and she healed me too."

For some strange reason, he felt towering relief over that. "That's very good to hear," he said sincerely. "She's a pain, but she's kinda grown on me. How is Dolanna?"

"Grieving, but she'll be alright," she replied compassionately. "Faalken was a very old friend. She needs time to heal."

"We all do," he said, mainly to himself.

One of the acrobats approached, someone whose face he knew but her name eluded him. The sight of her advancing on them provoked an immediate reaction. He laid his ears back and growled at her, a growl that made her stop in her tracks and give him a fearful look. She took a couple of steps back, glancing at Allia, who motioned for her to go back. When she did so, Tarrin returned to normal.

Allia stared at him disapprovingly for more than a moment. "What's your problem?" she finally demanded. "Threatening Lila was uncalled for!"

"I'm sorry," he said without much sincerity. "But I'm not letting anyone get anywhere near me right now. For their sake more than mine."

"If that's how you feel, let's go to the galley and get you something to eat. Unless you're going to growl at Deward."

"Not if he gets out of the galley," he replied bluntly.

"Tarrin!" Allia scolded. "I thought you liked Deward!"

"I do," he replied. "I'm just not ready to deal with strangers right now, sister. I don't want that stress."

She gazed into his eyes, then took his paw. "Alright. Let's get you something to eat. Have you slept at all?"

"No, not really."

"Then after you eat, you're taking a nap," she declared. "You need to rest. I'll sleep with you, if you want, and after you wake up we'll talk."

"I'd appreciate that, sister," he replied with a grateful expression.

After visiting the galley and putting some desperately needed food in his belly, Allia took him back to his room. She laid down on the bed and patted it, and he shifted into his cat form and jumped up with her. The smell of her, the feel of her presence, subdued his raging mind with gentle speed, soothing his fears and his worries, replacing them with a sensation of Cat-induced contentment. Allia never failed to calm him, and against her side he found the peace to close his eyes and forget everything, if only for a while. Forget Faalken, forget his failure, forget his guilt. Her presence simply let him be, gave him the security to fall into a dreamless slumber, exerting that same gentle influence on him that Janette did, the same feeling of security. Allia would make everything all better, she would chase away the monsters in his mind and the bad memories. For a while, she would bring peace to his racing mind.

He woke up some time later. He had no idea how long he had been asleep, but it was obviously long enough to lure Allia into sleeping as well. She was still laying on her side, with him curled up against her chest, an arm draped protectively over him. Her breath washed over him, a smell that was pleasant to him, and he basked in the sensation of her closeness while she slept. And he to admit, he felt a little better now. The time in cat form had reinforced that part of him, as always happened as he spent time in a particular form, and the pragmatic outlook of the cat had dulled the pain of what had happened before somewhat.