"You know, I haven't seen a single watch or patrol since we got here," Sarraya noted. "That's weird."

"It's a big city, Sarraya," he replied calmly, folding his map and putting it away. A glance up at the brilliant sky and the Skybands told him which direction was which, and he walked around the fountain to stare down the other major avenue that crossed the Street of Gold. That was west. That was his direction.

Staring down the street, he realized that months of hard work, pain, suffering, sacrifice, and decdication had culminated itself into that one moment. He and the others had strove for months to get right where he was, to begin the possibly long and exhausting search for the Book of Ages. So much had gone wrong, but then again, some things had gone well. They'd left Suld in the first marches of winter, with ice clinging to the sails of the Star of Jerod. It was nearly midsummer now, a mere ride from the Festival of the Sun, which marked the midpoint of the summer and the summer solstice. Some six months or so. They had lost Faalken, and Keritanima and those with her had been separated from them. But, on the positive side, he had gained new friends in Camara Tal, Sarraya, Phandebrass, and even his drakes. He had made peace with the Were-cats, and had earned the respect of Triana, Jesmind's mother. He had changed greatly since the Tower. He had grown hard, grim, feral, had faced himself at his worst and embraced it. And he could live with that. So much had happened since the night they left Suld. It had seemed like a strange adventure at the time, but it felt nothing like that now. It was a chore, a mission, an unpleasant assignment he wished to finish as quickly as possible, so he could move on and do something he wanted to do.

Looking down at the crystal medallion, he stared into its depths as it sparkled with the reflections of the lights of the lanterns around them. Everything depended on those four little hunks of quartz.

Closing his eyes, he released himself from the painful constraints of his human form. He felt himself flow into his taller humanoid body, felt his tail and ears and claws and paws all take up their rightful, natural places. He ignored the startled gasps and exclamations from the people around the Fountain of Life. He had shapeshifted in front of them, and he did not care. They couldn't do anything to catch him. They couldn't stop him. They were, after all, only human. He didn't care if they knew what he was, he didn't care if it made them afraid of him. His only concern was to find the Book of Ages.

Whipping his tail back and forth a few times to settle it comfortably in the slit in his breeches, he looked down at the medallion, cupped in the palm of his paw, laying against the thick, triangular pad, and then held it up to the west. "Work," he breathed quietly, ignoring the people who had stopped and were staring at him. "Find the Book of Ages, little crystal."

"Tarrin, are you nuts?" Sarraya hissed in a strangled tone. "You just announced to the city that we're here!"

"So what," he said bluntly. "They always seem to know where we are, so let them come. Let them try and stop me. It'll be alot easier for me if they come to me so I can kill them, rather than hunt them down."

"You're getting too big for your breeches, cub," Sarraya sighed. "I go that way. Just do what Dolanna told us to do, Tarrin. Don't get melodramatic out there."

"You're a fine one to talk," he drawled as the crystal began to glow with a faint reddish light. By a little moving around, he realized that it was pointing him in a specific direction, just as Phandebrass said it would. "I'll see you in the morning. Be careful."

"You're the one who'd better be careful," she returned, then she flitted away.

He gave her not a thought more. His eyes focused on the medallion, then he looked towards the northwest, where it was telling him to go.

The hunt was on.

To the surprise of the people on the street, Tarrin took a few bounding strides, then vaulted twenty five spans up onto the flat roof of one of the dwellings near the fountain. Without the slightest pause, he raced along the rooftops towards the northwest, jumping from roof to roof as easily as a human would walk down the street, moving directly towards his goal. He felt his worries and fears melt away in the simple ritual of the hunt. His prey wasn't food or enemies, it was a thing, an object that he had to possess, the one thing that would release him from his self-imposed servitude and set him free.

It was the first target, and it proved to Tarrin that this wasn't going to be easy. In many ways.

The medallion had led him to a large compound about fifteen blocks away from the Fountain of Life, a very large compound indeed, and the medallion was pointing directly inside it. He circumnavigated the large, ornate iron fence surrounding the place and had confirmed it was in there. Beyond that fence patrolled a good number of guards, armed with swords, crossbows, and polearms, and they had trained dogs with them on their rounds. The guards were no problem, but the dogs were another matter entirely. Behind that formidable barrier stood a cluster of buildings, obviously belonging to some rich merchant or important person, and he had no idea which building the medallion was telling him to check. He'd have to get closer, so it could point him towards one specific buildings.

What had annoyed him more than anything else was what happened while he squatted on the roof of a nearby dwelling and planned how he was going to infiltrate. Light footsteps behind had warned him of the approach of someone else, and he caught the scent as he turned his head and looked. It was a figure clad in a dark cloak and black trousers, male by scent, an Arakite that had the look of a thief. He had jumped from another roof, much like Tarrin had travelled, and it proved the notion that the rooftops were another highway in the massive city, for those daring enough to attempt it. What got Tarrin immediately riled up was the smell of silver that exuded from the thief, a smell that Tarrin recognized and immediately took as threatening. Narrowing his eyes, he turned on the man with claws out, daring him to approach. But the man only looked at him and laughed.

"I think we can do business without the display," he said in Arakite, chuckling a bit more.

"Business? What business would I have with you?" Tarrin demanded, quickly adjusting his Arakite to remove the majority of his bad accent.

"We know who you are," he said simply. "We know why you're here. I'm here to tell you to do your business and leave. There are people in this city that don't like you being here. When the circus leaves, we expect you to be with it. If you're not, well, then we won't be very nice."

"Who is we?"

"Call us the concerned citizens of Dala Yar Arak," he smirked.

"And who will throw me out? You? Five of you? Ten? Fifty? If I want to stay, there's not a damned thing you can do about it, human. Stay out of my way, and you won't be bothered."

"We may not be able to do much to you. But there are other factors you should consider. Like that sweet Selani face that paraded in with you. I'd hate to see it cut off."

That was the wrong thing to say. Putting his ears back, Tarrin's eyes exploded into the green aura that marked his anger, a greenish radiance that was pronounced in the darkness, and he immediately pounced on the man, claws leading. He drove the startled man to the stone floor of the roof, holding him down by the neck with one paw as the other rose up. "Take this back to your leader, dog!" he hissed in a brutal tone, then he deliberately drove his palm into the man's face with such force that it caused the man's head to explode, showering Tarrin with brains, bits of bone, and a spray of blood, and cracking the stone beneath where his head had once been.