Jenna blushed under the compliment, and the Urzani got back to her feet. "The lesson is over. Since you have figured out how to whisper, I'll leave it to you to figure out for yourself," she told them with a smile. "Consider it a test. When next I call you, I expect you to have the process mastered."

"We will," Jenna told her immediately. "When do you want me to start writing?"

"Whenever you feel ready," she shrugged. "I know you may want to consider what I gave to you, and I'm sure that Tarrin will want to hear some of it. There is no timetable, child. It is when you feel it is right to do it."

"Alright," Jenna told her obediently. "When can we see you again?"

"When I call you, you will know," she said with a mysterious smile, reaching behind her and pulling the cowl of her black-black cloak over her head. "Remember to practice. You can never practice enough."

"We will," Tarrin promised.

Spyder nodded, and then the inky blackness of her cloak seemed to flow over her face, and then she was simply gone.

How did she do that? There was no sense of magic about it, no weaving, no shifting of the Weave. It was like she was doing it without magic… but such a thing absolutely had to be magic. How could she enact a magic he couldn't see or feel or sense?

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that," Jenna laughed. "Well, brother, we've been summarily dismissed. Should we go to breakfast now?"

"They're all probably waiting for us," he replied. "Jenna, when she taught you Sha'Kar, did she teach you the written form of the language?"

Jenna seemed to look inward for a moment. "No," she replied. "Why do you ask?"

"I was hoping that we could cheat a bit, but it looks like the Goddess isn't going to let me do it this time," he grunted.

"We still love her, though," Jenna said seriously.

"Oh, yes, sister. I do love her."

"What will we tell the others if they ask where we've been?"

"The truth. That we were in a training session, and we won't give any kind of specifics. They'll all just assume that I was training you. They know I've been meaning to do it."

"True enough."

"Well, sis, let's get off the roof and get moving, before mother comes looking for us." Tarrin chuckled. "She probably had a fit when she realized you weren't in your room."

"I'm in for a tongue-lashing, that's for sure," Jenna sighed as she returned to her feet.

"Not really. When mother hears that you were with me, I'm the one that's going to get chewed out," he told her.

Jenna looked at him as he stood up, then she laughed. "I knew there was a good reason you were older than me," she teased as she took his paw, and then led him towards the nearest stairwell.

The impending lecture never materialized, for his parents were too busy when they finally caught up to them. They were in one of the private dining rooms off the kitchen, and the entirety of their group was present. Tarrin ignored everyone else and went straight to Dolanna, taking her hands gently in his paws, then abandoning decorum and picking her up, twirling in circles as he hugged the diminutive, dark-haired Sorceress. Tarrin's love and respect for Dolanna went deep, and her mild ways and gentle wisdom had had a profound impact on his life. If not for her, he would be dead, and he never allowed himself to forget that fact. After greeting his mentor, he took Dar's hand and realized that the young Arkisian was getting tall. Dar was sixteen now, and he seemed to be shooting up like a weed, his growth coming much later than for most boys. He was even starting to grow a thin moustache and beard. He greeted Camara Tal and Phandebrass in turn, not quite as fondly as he did Dolanna and Dar, but they seemed to understand that. They were friends to him, but lacked the connection he had with the others. At least they respected the differences. There were three other faces in that dining hall, two of which robbed just a little of the happy mood. The Keeper was there with Ahiriya, but the Lord General of the Knights, Darvon, was also in attendance.

Tarrin looked around and saw everyone save Sarraya, Binter, and Sisska. Jesmind and Triana were talking, with his daughter in Triana's lap. Eron and Elke Kael were talking with Thean, and Kimmie was hanging on every word from the mouth of Phandebrass, still wearing that patched robe and still had that slightly absent quality about him, whose two drakes were sitting on the table in front of him. Camara Tal, who had traded in her haltar and tripa for a rather plain gray waistcoat over a linen shirt and black trousers-probably at the behest of the scandalized Sulasian ladies in the Tower-was saying something archly to Azakar, resplendent in his armor, who stared down at her with a scowl. Keritanima and Allia were just seating themselves, Keritanima wearing a rather elegant if plain cream-colored dress that complemented the color of her fur, and Allia wearing a white linen shirt and leather breeches. Szath, that monstrous Vendari bodyguard, wearing the common bandolier and kilt but carrying an axe that would stand taller than Dolanna if stood up on the floor, took up a place behind the queen's chair, hovering over her. Miranda was making absent gestures in front of Jula, the mink Wikuni advertising her wares in a soft green brocade dress with sleeves gored with blue silk that left a great deal of white fur-clad cleavage bare, as she spoke to the Were-cat. But his bond-daughter's attention was focused on her hand rather than her words, the tip of her tail twitching in a manner that told him that Jula's instinct to pounce was being teased by that waving hand. It was nearly everyone he called family or friend, and he took a moment to bask in the sense of being with them once again before they all sat down and got to the business of eating, attended by a small army of wild-eyed Novices and servants.

But he knew that the intimate mood of the breakfast wouldn't last long. Not with the Keeper and Ahiriya present. And he was proved right when the plates were pushed away. "It's been quite a while since you were last here, Tarrin," the Keeper told him calmly. "I'm sure you'll understand when I say I have a great many questions to ask you. The first of which being, did you get what you were after?"

"I have it," he replied stonily. Tarrin's dislike for the Keeper was still strong; he would never be able to forgive her or the Council for what they did to him, no matter how necessary it was or how much he preferred how things turned out.

"Thank the Goddess," the Keeper sighed. "Maybe there's some hope for us yet."

"I would like to see it," Ahiriya said with blatant longing in her voice. "If only to hold it in my hands and know I have touched it."

"I didn't bring it for you," he said dangerously. "I brought that book back here because that was what had to be done. But I'll be damned if I let any of you so much as look at it. Not after what you did to me."

"Don't take that tone with me, boy," Ahiriya said in a flinty tone.

"I say, we didn't come here to brawl like common thugs," Phandebrass said calmly. "I think we can all conclude here and now, we can, that what Tarrin has is Tarrin's own, and none of us have any rights to it. After all, we didn't risk our necks for it."

"Speak for yourself," Camara Tal snorted. "I'd say that most of us risked alot more than our necks."

"Well, yes, true, but seriously, my dear, if we start splitting hairs, we'll all end up bald."

Camara Tal gave him a startled look, then actually laughed.

"Well, Tarrin, if our Lorefinders can't look at it, how are we going to use it to help you?" the Keeper asked calmly.

"I already have someone to do that for me," he said, looking in Keritanima's direction. "All the Tower has to do is stay out of our hair until we have what we need. Then we'll send this invading army packing and get back to business."