"Oh, Tarrin," she said in awe. "Tell me what happened. Leave nothing out."

Step by step, Tarrin recanted his memory of the fight, and being knocked into the Conduit. "I don't remember very much after that," he said helplessly. "The power tried to fry me to ash, and I just had to do something with it to keep from exploding. They tell me I burned the Doomwalker to ash, and it lit up the Conduit and the Ward."

"No one could survive direct exposure to the Heart," she said in a quiet voice. "But you did, somehow."

"Why is it called that?"

"Because that is what it is," she replied. "The Conduit running through the Heart is the largest, most concentrated Conduit known to man. The Tower was built around it so the katzh-dashi could be very close to it. The closer we are to the Heart, the stronger our Sorcery becomes. You have never known anything else, but when you leave the city, leave Sulasia, you will understand. Far away, it takes us longer to build up the energy to weave spells, because those areas are not as rich in magical energy as the Tower. The Heart charges the strands around it with much more magical energy than you will find, say, back in Aldreth. The Heart is literally the heart of our power, and when we are close to it, it makes us stronger."

"I didn't know that," he said. "So that's what's happening to me? Do you think I somehow was affected by the Conduit?"

"How could you not?" she said. "I have never heard of anything surviving direct immersion in the Heart. Even mundane objects thrown into the Heart charge with magical power, then explode. But you survived it, and it has affected you. It has opened a link with you, my dear one, a link that fills you with power you cannot hope to control. But there is hope."

"What? How do we fix it?"

"I do not think we can," she said, "but I-they-may be able to teach you how to control the link. You cannot control the power, so you must learn how to control the pathway that feeds it to you. If you can learn to choke off that link, it will give you the time you need to use Sorcery without fear of being Consumed."

"You don't sound to convinced."

"Because that may be impossible," she sighed. "But it is all I can think of. I will have to take this to the Council. They are more skilled and learned than I, perhaps they can find a better solution."

"The Council? Dolanna, I-"

"Hush, dear one," she told him. "This is quite beyond me, and I need guidance. Even if you do not trust the Council, remember that you are a Sorcerer, and that entitles you to their assistance. They will help. They must, it is their duty. Perhaps one of them can help you find a way to control this ability, for I do not think that I can."

Tarrin blew out his breath, but had to concede that she was right. He needed help, and if Dolanna couldn't supply it, he had to find it where he could. The way things were now, a single slip could fry him to ash, and that was just too dangerous, considering how easy it was for him to call on the power of the Weave. What he had done for his mother had been totally without thought. He didn't even remember how he did it. But it was the most shining example of exactly why he had to get this under control, and do it very fast. Another thoughtless touch on the Weave could quite possibly lead to his demise, and that was something that he absolutely could not afford.

"Alright," he sighed. "I've been wondering something for a while, Dolanna."

"What is it, dear one?"

"Why do you speak so formally?"

She laughed. "Because the northern common tongue is not my native one, Tarrin," she said. "I am from Sharadar."

He stared at her. Sharadar? The almost mythical kingdom on the southern continent that took its name from that nation, a nation of magic, learning, and wonders. "You're from Sharadar? Why are you up here?"

"Because I am a Sorcerer, dear one," she replied calmly. "Sharadar has its own order of katzh-dashi, in their own Tower. The Heart comes up from the earth here, but it descends into the earth there. There is a Tower and an order of Sorcerers at both ends of it. There are Sharadite Sorcerers here, just as there are northern Sorcerers in Sharadar. Each order is separate, but both answer to the Council and Keeper. Because of that, there are always communications passing between each order."

Tarrin had never conceived of that. He knew that the world was round, but to imagine something piercing the earth and running all the way through it boggled his mind. "What do the southern Sorcerers do?"

"The same as the northern ones," she replied. "Study, learn, and find others with our gifts."

"I never knew about them."

"There is a bit of, competition, between the two orders, dear one," she said with a smile. "The teachings of the other order of katzh-dashi come later in your Initiate."

"What happened to them during the Breaking?" he asked suddenly. "Sevren's class didn't cover that."

"The same as what happened up here, but the southern katzh-dashi were never driven from their Tower. And yet they too simply vanished."

"But why keep the other order secret?" Tarrin asked. "It doesn't make sense."

"It is not a secret," she told him, "it is merely something not often discussed. The workings of an order half the world away have little bearing or impact on life here."

"But they should say something in the Novitiate," he accused.

"Tarrin, they said nothing about the southern continents, other than references to geography," she reminded him. "And the Tower does like to keep its profile low. Telling Novices there is another Tower spreads information that the katzh-dashi may prefer to keep private. That is why only Initiates learn of the tower in Sharadar."

"It still seems strange," he said after a moment.

"Politics usually are, dear one," she chuckled. "But since I dare not try to instruct you, I think we are done for today. I need guidance, and must take this up with the Council at once." She smiled at him. "And I will be sure to tell Ahiriya that your uncertainty and fear over your condition caused your outburst. After she understands the problem, she will probably forgive you your behavior."

"I really don't care," he snorted. "I'm not here to lick her slippers."

"That kind of attitude will create trouble for you, dear one," Dolanna warned. "It is not demeaning to give to others the respect that they deserve."

"When she proves she deserves it, I'll give it to her," he grunted. "Dolanna, thanks. I do feel alot better now. I was really afraid that something was going to happen."

"We shall see, young one, and you are welcome," she said. "Now, since you cannot practice, I suggest you learn. In the South Tower, there is another library. The real one, which holds the books that the Lorefinders study and the lore of magic and theory that we keep out of the hands of the Novices. Go there, and read. Learn. There is much you can learn by reading, even if you cannot practice."

"Nobody ever told me about that."

"And why do you think that is?" she asked pointedly.

"Oh, because they don't want to contaminate the process of learning how to touch the Weave," he realized.

"Precisely. But since you already have mastered that task, you cannot be contaminated by reading about the experiences of others. Go there and learn, my dear one. It will do you good."

"They'll let me in?"

"Yes. You wear Initiate red, and that is all you will need to gain entrance."

"I'll do it, Dolanna. Thank you."

"No thanks are needed, my dear one," she smiled.

He touched her cheek with his paw, taking in her beauty, realizing again now much the small woman meant to him, then he took his leave of her.

He didn't like the idea of the Tower meddling in his affairs, but Dolanna was right. He needed to learn how to control whatever happened to him before it killed him, and if that meant allowing people he perceived as enemies to do it, then so be it. Better to take the hand of an enemy then refuse it and jump blindly into death. The Cat was a survivor, and it wouldn't let him refuse a chance to live. It was a survivor, and would not allow his human pride or distrust to interfere with the need to survive.