He'd have little of that. He was going to spend that time in cat form, riding in the cowl of Allia's mesalla, the desert garb she would wear out in the desert. Instead of trying to hide her, Renoit had decided to display her as Selani, to pique the curiosity of the Arakites about the mysterious desert dwellers that they were taught to hate and fear as children. Camara Tal would be similarly displayed in her Amazon dress.

Dolanna and Phandebrass were absent from the deck, but the Amazon was sitting on a rope coil near the bow. She had Faalken's sword in her hands, holding onto it absently, with a pensive look on her face. Seeing that sword filled him with a sudden irrational anger. How dare she take that! It was Faalken's! He had given it to the Knight, and it belonged with him! But the look on her face quelled that anger as quickly as it erupted. She didn't look very happy to have it. Sarraya hovered near her, curiously silent. Usually she would be harassing or teasing the Amazon, but she looked more concerned than amused.

They both looked up at him when he stopped in front of them, looking down with his penetrating stare. She said nothing, her expression barely changed, but there was something behind her eyes that caught his attention. "Tarrin," she said finally.

"What are you doing with that?" he demanded in a low, quiet voice. "It doesn't belong to you."

"It does now," Sarraya said tartly.

"By what right?" he challenged.

"Don't blame me," Camara Tal said dully, looking out into the sea. "But the bug's right. Dolanna told me to keep it. But I'm not to happy about it. This was Faalken's sword. It should have been buried with him, as a gesture of respect and honor, but the Sorceress insisted because it's a magical weapon. She said we may need it if that bag of bones comes back."

He turned it over in his mind. If she would have said that she just took it, he probably would have thrashed her. But if Dolanna told her to do it, then she was best served by just doing it. Nobody could stand up to the small Sorceress in a battle of wills.

"Well, if Dolanna told you to do it, I guess it's alright," he said with a snort. "You, buried Faalken?"

She nodded. "It wasn't much of a grave, but there was no way we could bring his body, or take it back to Sulasia. We did the best we could."

"I even blessed it," Sarraya said quietly. "So it will never get cold, and there will always be flowers growing there to remind the world of what we gave up for it."

If there was anything the sprite could have done to secure Tarrin's trust, what she said had to be the most effective thing she could possibly say. Looking down at them, he realized that he no longer felt the nagging fear he felt in their presence, especially when he was alone with both of them. They had fought with him against the Doomwalker. They had fought for him, put their own lives in jeopardy for his benefit, and the distrustful part of him had finally ceded that these two could not possibly be a threat.

Tarrin looked down at them with a stony expression much like Triana's, and then he reached down towards Camara Tal. She seemed uncertain of what he intended to do, until he grabbed the hilt of the sword at her hip and drew it out of the scabbard. It was a well made weapon, a bit heavier than Faalken's magical blade, but it was utilitarian in appearance. It was an old weapon, heavily used and well maintained.

With a flick of his arm, he sent it sailing out over the rail. Camara Tal watched in stunned disbelief as it splashed into the sea. She made a quick move to resist when he reached down again, but he grabbed her wrist in one huge paw and stopped it as the other paw took the magical sword from her hand, then pointedly pushed the tip into the scabbard, then slid it home.

"Just don't dishonor it, or its memory," he told her. "Make Faalken proud." She stared up at him in quiet wonder, but he absently changed form, and before she could react, he jumped up into her lap and laid down. Her bronzed scent filled his nose, and he found that it no longer triggered a defensive instinct within him. It was a comforting smell now. He could accept it as friendly, accept her as an ally. He closed his eyes and put his chin on her thigh, then fell off into a dozing sleep.

"Well. Well, well, well," Sarraya chuckled quietly, landing on Camara Tal's knee and looking at his head carefully. "He's asleep. I didn't think I'd see this happen so fast."

"What does that mean?" Camara Tal asked. "He's never done this before. What does it mean?"

"It means that you can stop trying to be his friend," Sarraya grinned. "If he trusts you enough to sleep on your lap, then he accepts you. Both of us, it seems, or he'd never have taken his eyes off of me."

Camara Tal's wan expression took on a relieved look, and she reached down and stroked Tarrin's fur lingeringly. "Thank Neme," she breathed.

"No, thank Tarrin," Sarraya said impishly, landing on Camara Tal's lap and sitting down against Tarrin's flank, using him for a backrest.

Tarrin spent the afternoon on Camara Tal's lap, either dozing or watching the performers prepare for tomorrow. Allia and Dar seemed to be kept very busy, for every time the young Arkisian tried to approach him, someone would grab his arm and pull him aside to talk to him. Dolanna was still missing. Tarrin couldn't blame her for that.

Dar finally did manage to get free of the others, coming up to Camara Tal as he watched the hustle around them. Sarraya was sitting between him and Camara Tal's stomach, her arms folded on his back and leaning up against him, digging her tiny hands into his fur absently. "Tarrin?" Dar asked uncertainly.

"Dar," Tarrin asked in the manner of the Cat. "Are you alright?"

"He can't understand you, Tarrin," Sarraya said. "He asked if you're feeling alright, Dar," the sprite translated for him.

"I'm alright, but I'm more worried about you, Tarrin. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Dar. I'm just fine," he replied, which Sarraya translated. "They're keeping you busy enough."

Dar chuckled after Sarraya relayed that. "Yeah, well, they want me to use my Illusions through the entire performance. I'm not sure if I can last that long. Everyone and his brother wants me to do something for them."

Tarrin looked up at him. "Have you seen Dolanna? Is she alright?"

"Well, she hasn't come out of her cabin since we got back on the ship, Tarrin," he replied after Sarraya translated. "Phandebrass has gone in to see her a couple of times, but he won't tell me what they talked about."

As if speaking about her made her appear, Dolanna came out of the doorway that led below. She wore a simple black dress, a mourning color, that made her pale skin seem even whiter than usual. Her face had no traces of grief or crying, however. Her face was cool, businesslike, much like Triana's stony expression that Tarrin had begun to favor himself. But he could see her pain in her eyes. She was Faalken's oldest friend, and his loss had struck her the hardest. But Dolanna being Dolanna, she was putting her grief aside to deal with the business at hand. She saw Tarrin, Camara Tal, and Dar, and she immediately came over to them. When she spoke, her voice was tightly controlled. "Tarrin, I see you are well. Sarraya, Dar, go fetch Phandebrass and Allia. We need to talk."

"What about?" Camara Tal asked.

"About what we will do in Dala Yar Arak," she replied.

Tarrin shifted back to his natural form as they waited for Phandebrass. Sarraya sat sedately on his shoulder, playing with his hair, as Allia leaned up against his side. It was times like this he missed Keritanima. Especially now since Faalken was dead, he wanted his friends near him, around him, where he could see them and protect them. He wasn't going to lose another friend. He just wasn't. And he couldn't protect them if they weren't near to him.