"I think not," Keritanima snapped. "You were going to collect a bounty on me, so I'm going to return the favor. Dayise would certainly pay me a pretty penny to hand you over to them, with as many Shacean ships as you've sunk in the last few years."

"You'll never get anywhere near Dayise," she snapped in reply, her green eyes blazing. "Damon Eram has every port from Suld to Tor blockaded. Wikuni warships will intercept this ship and search it when you try to approach. And you know what will happen if Wikuni ships find you."

"Then I'll sink them the same way I sunk you," Keritanima told her with a snort and crossed arms. "I'm not just a pretty trinket anymore, Sheba. I have real power now, and I know how to use it."

"What did they teach you, princess?" Sheba sneered. "To roll over and play dead? Maybe how to juggle fire? Perhaps how to whine even louder to get your way?"

Keritanima snarled viciously and grabbed Sheba by the collar, and cocked back her other hand as if to punch the woman. But Sheba 's sneering grin faded when fire erupted around Keritanima's closed fist, shrouding it in a fiery nimbus.

"That's enough of that, miss," Faalken told her, pulling her away from Sheba with gentle force and holding her by the shoulders. "It's not seemly to threaten the defeated. It's bad form. And the defeated had better remember which end of the sword is pointing at them," he said in Sheba 's direction.

"I think this one is the priest, Highness," Binter said in his deep voice as they looked at him. He was holding a badly injured lion-Wikuni up by the back of his neck, like a large doll. The figure had been wearing robes, but they, as well as most of his fur, had been burned off. His right eye was lost, with a deep slash running above and below the bloody socket.

"Is he dead, Binter?" she asked, her voice still quivering with anger.

"Not yet, Highness, but he will be if he's not healed."

Keritanima only hesitated a second. "Throw him back over the rail, Binter," she said calmly.

"What?" Faalken gasped, as Dar stepped into Keritanima's face and declared "you can't treat him that way!"

"I'm not bringing a hostile priest aboard, Dar," Keritanima said bluntly. "He can bring the entire Wikuni fleet down on our necks. If we save his life, it'll certainly cost us our own."

"It's not right to abandon the injured, no matter how potentially dangerous they could be," Faalken said adamantly. "It's not right."

"I'm sure that the Knights can afford right and wrong, Faalken, but things work a bit differently out in the real world," she replied in a very authoritative voice, as Kern's men took the injured priest from Binter and laid him out on the deck. "The man is a liability, and a risk to our own safety. I won't let him bring more Wikuni onto our tail."

"To show no mercy to a defeated foe is dishonorable," Allia told her. "He should be at least allowed to heal, and then set adrift with supplies. That way he cannot bring harm to us, but we can show the mercy that honor demands."

Cries from Kern's sailors brought attention back to the priest, and all of them watched in not a little shock as Tarrin casually brought his foot down on the injured Wikuni's neck. The blow crushed his windpipe instantly, but the broken neck caused instantaneous death before he had a chance to asphyxiate. Tarrin reached down with his clawed paw and picked up the body, and then callously threw it over the rail. They all stared at him in surprise, and not a few faces had slightly horrified looks on them.

There was no emotion in it for Tarrin. He was an enemy, plain and simple. And enemies were there to be eliminated. He put his staff on his shoulder and regarded all of them with a serious face, devoid of any sign of guilt over his deed. "The problem is solved," he told them all in a calm voice, then he swept that emotionless gaze across the sitting or kneeling pirates. "And the same fate awaits anyone that causes trouble," he warned them in a cold voice, then he pointed to his friends with a clawed finger. "They believe in mercy. I do not. The first time any one of you causes trouble, I'll kill all of you. It's that simple. You're nothing but dead weight to me, and if I had my way, I'd throw all of you over the rail right now."

Without another word, Tarrin walked through them, knew they were watching, that they were surprised at what he did. But he didn't care. Dead weight, that's all those Wikuni were, and they'd be sure to cause grief.

Well, he meant it. The first time one of them caused trouble, he'd kill them all. After all, they were warned.

He walked through them calmly, almost serenely, then went below decks to check on Dolanna, to make sure she was alright.

They meant nothing to him.

"That was some cold-blooded-" Sheba began, but Keritanima cut her off.

"Now maybe you understand what you're dealing with," she warned Sheba. "I'm sure all of you know the kind of person that Royal politics produces. Don't think I'd even blink over having all of you killed. So that means that your behavior is a matter of life and death. Don't forget that."

But the worried look that passed between Keritanima and Allia, out of sight of the others, told the dark-skinned Selani that Keritanima was just as startled and dismayed over what they just watched their beloved brother do as she was.

Allia understood that the transition for Tarrin had been very difficult. She understood that much of what he did was actually the animal inside him reacting to the situation, and for many of his deeds, he could be forgiven. But she had never seen him do, never believed him capable, of what she had just witnessed. Those paws which were so gentle, which handled children with such painstaking care, whose very touch could transmit the warmth that flowed from his heart so freely, she had never before seen them as instruments of death, even when he used them to deliver mortal wounds. She couldn't believe that the sober young man, with such a capacity and compassion for others, was capable of such callous diregard, of such calculated evil.

Biting her lip, she gave Keritanima a very fearful look. He said he had changed. She still couldn't believe that he had changed that much.

It was something of a reversal of roles for him, and it felt strange.

Usually, it was Dolanna that seemed to be there when he awoke from whatever had tried to kill him this time. It felt strange to him to be the one sitting on the edge of the bed, holding Dolanna's hand gently in his paw and waiting for her to wake up. Faalken had assured him that it was nothing but simple exhaustion, and in that respect Tarrin agreed. Leading a circle was an effort, and to use such powerful Sorcery for such a long time had no doubt taken its toll on Dolanna's strength. Dolanna was very skilled, but even she admitted that as Sorcerers went, she was not among the strongest. Where she lacked in raw power, she more than made up for it in skill and experience. What Keritanima or Tarrin could have done without so much as a wave of the hand would put Dolanna on her knees.

Dolanna. She was so much to him. She was a mother and protector, and a part of Tarrin's mind would always respect her, look up to her, seek her out for answers, and her presence always had a calming effect on him. Without Dolanna, he would feel lost, and just the slightest thought that someone would hurt her was enough to make him growl in suppressed rage. He loved her, loved her deeply, but it was a strong love of friendship and trust rather than a romantic interest. Much like the love he held for his sisters. Dolanna was a part of his family, and he would protect her.

"How is she?" Dar asked as he entered. The young Arkisian put his hand on Tarrin's shoulder and looked over him, down at Dolanna. His face was pale, sallow, and it almost looked as if his cheeks were sunken. The effort of the circle had worn on Dar as well, whose power was so new to him. But he still managed a bright smile when Tarrin looked into his eyes, albeit a weary one.