"Stroka, where did it go?" the shorter robed man asked.

"I know not, Vadren," he replied. "The spell was pointing straight to the book, and then it simply vanished. There is nothing there!"

"I felt the same. Did we stray back into that dead-magic area?"

"No, my spell is still operating. It just has nothing to find!"

"Mine as well."

The taller man growled. "It cannot be far!" he said. "Spread out and search, guardsmen! Turn back and search near the wall, perhaps the thief took it back into the magic-dead area, where our spells cannot locate it!"

"As you command, Watchwizard!" one guard said sharply, then he turned and barked orders to his men. They all broke up into pairs and moved back towards the wall enclosing the Palace grounds.

If Tarrin were human, he'd be jumping up and down in glee. Of course! How lucky could he get! The Demoness said that they could use magic to find the book. But when he shapeshifted, he placed the book into the elsewhere, a place their magic could not reach!

So long as he stayed in cat form, they could not find him!

"What's got you so happy?" Sarraya asked.

"They couldn't find me, Sarraya!" he said happily. "Shiika said they could find the Book of Ages with magic, but when I shapeshifted and it went into the elsewhere, they couldn't find it! They can't track me down!"

Sarraya chuckled lightly, then winced. "Tarrin, you have the weirdest luck."

"I'm not going to complain about it, Sarraya," he said, sitting down. "You talked to the others? Are they safe? Did Shiika let them go?"

"They're alright, Tarrin," she replied. "She did let them go. I think she realized that taking them was only going to make you angrier. And boy, was she right," she added with a grin. "You're spectacularly nasty when you're angry."

"Save it, Sarraya. We have to find them and get the Abyss out of here."

"We just have to look in the largest city in the world, with you as a cat, to find them," she said cynically.

"You're such an optomist," he grunted, slinking deeper into the alley. He waited as she got more comfortable on his back, after getting moved when he hunkered down to hide from the men. When she was settled, he turned and started for the other end of the alleyway. He didn't want to bounce her around, so he moved carefully, but with as much speed as he could manage with her injuries. "I have a plan, we just need to get some distance from the Palace."

"You and your plans," she huffed. "Was tricking me into taking the first hit part of your plan?"

"Don't start with me, or I'll carry you in my teeth," he warned as they disappeared from sight.

"At least then you'd shut up!"

"You weren't supposed to be there!"

There was a silence. "Sorry about that. I saw the Book, and I guess I just lost my head."

"It happens. Now get our bony butt out from between my shoulder blades. It hurts."

"Don't talk to me about bone, Tarrin! I must be sitting on a pile of them!"

"They're yours."

"Jerk."

"I love you too," his chuckle echoed silently through the alley, for those capable of hearing it. "I love you too."

GoTo: Title EoF

Chapter 29

Sarraya wasn't that heavy, but she got heavier and heavier as they moved.

Then again, his mind wasn't very involved with her weight on his back, as she rode him like a horse. He was occupied with everything that had happened, and it caused him to all but be led around by Sarraya as they sought to distance themselves from the Imperial Palace .

It was over. He had the Book of Ages. It had been so long in coming, it almost didn't sound right to him to think it. He really never looked forward to this moment, and if he had, he certainly wouldn't have imagined it happening the way it did, being where he was right then. He had the book. He had had to battle the book's guardian for possession of it, a huge Demonic creature of untold power, but he had defeated it. And that was what made him think so much. He had used Druidic power to gain the upper hand, used a type of magic other than Sorcery to bring his sword to him, to give him the advantage. And it had brought him the victory.

It went against everything he was taught. They always told him that no being could wield more than two orders of magic. It was against the will of Ayise, the Allmother, the greatest of the Elder Gods. If that were true, then he was an abomination, existing outside the natural order of the world. But then again, he probably already did. Him and all the other Were-cats along with him.

That was a scary thought. It meant that all the Were-cats were like him. They all had at least a tiny amount of Druidic talent, but every single one of them could learn to use some other kind of magic. They could also be Priests, or learn the traditions of arcane Wizard magic. A race of super-powerful beings, superior to mankind and wielding a magic against which they could not stand, it was frightening.

But that would never happen. The Were-cats didn't desire domination. Only a shady meadow, lots of squirrels to chase, and the occasional pleasure of an old friend coming to visit. They were a simple breed, a simple people, and their instincts made them curiously humble, despite their exceptional power and potential.

Maybe that was why they had that potential. Simply because they wouldn't use it for such evil ends, and that power would be there to defend the land, if it were ever needed.

And then there was the Goddess. She seemed… ecstatic. He could still feel it on the fringes of his consciousness, for she had never broken her connection she used to speak to him. It was still there. He could feel her on the other side of it, an overwhelming presence just outside his mind, almost over his shoulder, radiating upon him a sensation of pride, of compassion, and of love. He understood the enormity of it. He could use Priest magic as well. He could call upon the Goddess, and if she so desired, she could respond with gifts of her power. That depended on her, of course, but the potential was there. He had the feeling that it wouldn't work quite that easily when it came to her. After all, she was the Goddess of the Weave, and he was a Sorcerer. What need did he have to directly ask for her power, when in a roundabout way, he could already use it? The Weave was the Goddess, and the Goddess was the Weave. Her power was available to all her children, not just him.

So. The katzh-dashi actually were Priests. Just with different traditions and a slightly different type of magic, that was all.

It just seemed so strange. He didn't feel special. Actually, he felt rather rotten. He had killed innocents. It didn't bother him as much as he thought it should, and that bothered him in and of itself. He had been sliding into the depths of madness, and had caught himself. But this wasn't madness. This was something else. He just didn't care. Perhaps he was just tired. Perhaps he had lost that part of his humanity to the Cat. Whichever it was, it was something with which he would have to cope. And that would come later.

At least the others were alright. Sarraya told him as they scampered away that Triana had come, faster than she ever dreamed she could get here, and that the others were all safe. They were free of Shiika, and Triana was with them. His powerful bond-mother would protect them, would help Jula since he was not there, would be there for them until he could find them. He felt a great deal better knowing that Triana, the most powerful of the Were-cats, was there to watch over them.

For right now, he had enough problems. He was carrying something that every mage and two-copper joker with delusions of grandeur wanted, and they wouldn't be squeamish about killing him over it. The Wizards could use magic to find it any time he left his cat form and brought the book out of the elsewhere. That kept him trapped in cat form. It wouldn't be easy to get back to the others in cat form, when it would take him two days to travel through the city. He'd have to find some way to get to them, as soon as he knew where they were. He couldn't contact Allia in cat form; he had to change back, restore the amulet to be able to do that. But doing so would bring the people hunting for the book after him, which meant that it was going to be tricky. He was still utterly exhausted from the fighting, from the victory, so tired that even Sarraya's slight weight felt like a pile of rocks tied on his back. He didn't feel up to more fighting.