Continuing to rummage through the wreckage, he could find nothing else even remotely resembling anything that had once been in the room. There were bits and pieces of fabric that he could only identify because of its color, the blue bedspread and curtains, the white sheets, the leather bits that had once been his favorite leather breeches. He found some fragments of the wash basin and pitcher, for they were the only pieces of porcelain in the room, and he did find enough of a piece of one of the legs of the washstand to identify it. Aside from that, nothing was recognizable. The Sorcerers that arrived on Jenna's behest took one look inside the room and shook their heads, and tersely informed him that everything was simply too far gone even for magic to restore them.

Nearly a half an hour of searching rewarded him, however, for he finally found something that wasn't broken. It was a tiny wooden doll, painted to look like it was dressed, but most of the paint was faded or worn away. It had scratch marks in it, and a string had been tied around its neck, which was now frayed. He didn't remember the old thing, but touching it conjured up an image of a darling little girl with big eyes and long, lustrous hair. The memory of the little girl caused a sense of peace and contentment in him that was almost scary. He realized that the little girl had to be Janette, the girl who had taken care of him when he'd fled from the Tower. She certainly was cute. He held the doll in his closed fist, understanding that this little trinket had to have tremendous meaning to him for him to keep it all this time. Maybe it was reminder of the time with her, or just a keepsake of her. If that flash of memory was any indication of his feelings for Janette, then he must have loved that little girl as deeply as he loved his own daughter.

It was, literally, the only thing he had left. He didn't have much, but all of it was now gone. All he had was what he was wearing, the things stored in the elsewhere like his staff and sword, the Firestaff, and this little doll. Everything else had been destroyed in the wake of Jesmind's wrath. All his clothes, all the little keepsakes and knick-knacks he'd gathered up on his travels, it was all destroyed.

Despite not remembering gathering any of it up, looking around the room offended Tarrin in the most intimate manner. Jesmind had tried to control his life, and now she had destroyed everything that could have reminded him of who he had once been, everything that he had called his own. All of it gone, much of it before he had a chance to find out what it was and what it had meant to him. It was like she was smothering him, depriving him of what happiness he could try to find in his current condition in some kind of attempt to force him to do what she wanted. He had spent a night with Auli, and Jesmind punished him for it by destroying everything he owned. The only happiness she seemed willing to afford him was spending time with his daughter. Everything else was not acceptable in her eyes. The only friends he could have were the ones she approved of. The only life he could have was the life she wanted him to live. He was just about sick of it.

Gently putting the little doll in his pocket, he looked over the room one more time and shook his head. This just couldn't go on anymore. He had to put a stop to it. If he didn't, Jesmind was going to completely take over his life, and it would be like he was a toddler again, tied to her apron strings and forced to do nothing but follow her. It didn't matter how much she loved him or what he meant to the other Were-cats. They had to understand that it was his life, and that meant that it was him who would decide its course.

Jenna was right. This was going to put a rift between him and his daughter, because he didn't think he could stand sitting in the same room with Jesmind right now.

"Tarrin?"

It was Triana. He turned and looked at her, and saw that she wasn't alone. A rather short Were-cat female with very short black hair, black fur, and wearing torn old leather trousers and a half-vest of sorts stood just beside and behind her. She was a handsome woman, not pretty in a feminine way but still attractive, and she looked into the room with a mixed expression. Her face was grim, but her eyes looked at him with a strange light, as if she were very happy to see him, but surprised at how she had discovered him.

"They said she had a fit. I see they weren't exaggerating," she grunted.

"Did you catch her?" he asked in a grim tone.

"Mist did."

"She put up quite a fight," the smaller Were-cat said in an amused tone.

"Then keep her away from me," he said. "I don't want to see her, I don't want to talk to her. I don't even want to think about her."

"It's not that bad, cub," Triana said in a worried voice. "We can fix all this."

"That's not the point!" he shouted, turning on her. For a moment, he realized he was shouting at Triana, but he knew that he couldn't back down now. "I'm tired of all of you trying to run my life! I didn't want what happened with Auli, but Jesmind decided that destroying everything I own was a good way to get back at me for it! Look, Triana! All I have now are the clothes on my back! She had no right to do this!"

"She wasn't in control of herself, cub," Triana said defensively. "She was in a rage. If she had, she wouldn't have done this."

"That's no excuse!" he shouted. "She got like that because she doesn't want me to live any kind of life like this! Well, I'm sick of it! I'm not going to sit in a closet and just do nothing waiting for Phandebrass to finish his magic! And that's exactly what she wants me to do! She doesn't want me doing anything I might like! She wants me to be miserable and bored because she thinks it'll make me want to be a Were-cat again! Well you tell her that this little stunt doesn't do anything but make me want to stay human! If this is the real Jesmind, then I don't want any part of her!"

Triana actually seemed taken aback. She looked down at him with eyes that seemed to be storming with emotion, even though her expression never changed. He knew that she was offended and upset by his declaration, but in the face of what she was seeing, she could not deny him the right to be furious. Jesmind had destroyed everything he owned, and there was little she could say to even make that seem close to being justified.

"Cub, I-"

"I don't want to hear anymore!" he shouted, actually cutting her off. He almost bit his lip when he realized he did that, but he couldn't show any throat now. They said that Were-cats respected strength, and he couldn't back down now that he'd set himself to challenge her. It would only make him look weak. "Just leave me alone, mother! I'm in no mood to talk to any of you!"

To his eternal shock and surprise, Triana simply nodded and stepped back from the doorway. She was going to leave! She was actually going to do it! He watched her go with narrow eyes, afraid of what he had just done but not stupid enough to show it. Angering Triana for any reason was a very dangerous proposition. The other one, the short one, she looked at him for a moment, her eyes calculating, and then followed Triana without speaking a word to him.

For a minute, he felt rather foolish, and then a little scared, but he knew that he had to do it. If he didn't put his foot down now, they were going to keep butting into his life more and more and more, until he was completely under their control. He really didn't want to do it like that, but he knew that there was no way he was going to be able to reason with them. They had their plans for him, and nothing, not even his own choice, was going to stop them from bringing it about.

If anything, this was an eye-opening experience. Now he really understood what they were talking about when it came to Were-cats and rages. Jesmind wouldn't have done this if she was rational. She'd know that it would only make him angry. Yet she had done it anyway, because she just couldn't help herself. Now she had to suffer the consequences of her inability to contain her anger, because he was mad at her.