She laughed at him. "Oh, my kitten, now you're going to start acting like that?" she teased, reaching down and putting her hands on either side of his face. "I thought you'd be pleased to see something like this. I did it just for you. Now stand up. I'm going to get a crick in my neck looking down at you like that." He obediently regained his feet, staring down at his deity with unease. "That's enough of that, kitten," she said firmly. "I may be disappointed that we're not further along, but that in no way means that I'm disappointed in you. Given everything that's happened, I feel that you've come a very long way. And we're not exactly falling behind, remember? We know where to go, when nobody else does. We have a distinct advantage, for the first time in this game we play."

Tarrin couldn't help but take her words to heart, and he felt some of his shame bleed away. "I-thank you, Mother," he said with a heavy sigh. "Your opinion of me matters more than anything."

"Oh, kitten, I'm always going to love you, no matter what you do," she laughed, walking away from him. She seated herself on the bench facing her fountain, and then patted the bench beside her meaningfully. He quickly obeyed her, sitting down beside her. The audacity of it struck him then, that he would be sitting beside the physical manifestation of a god, his Goddess, like she was any other person. But, he reminded himself, she preferred it when he treated her more as a friend and less as a deity. He put his paws between his knees and looked down at them, picking at one of his fetlocks nervously. "I'm sure you're waiting for the hammer to drop," she said with a teasing tone, but he wasn't looking at her face. "Here I've went and done something like this to talk to you, and now you're wondering what could be that important."

"It did sort of cross my mind, Mother," he admitted.

"I just wanted to sit and talk with my kitten," she told him gently. "To me, that's more important than anything else."

He had a guilty flush of pleasure to hear that. That she would go out of her way to talk to him! "I, I hope we did well. With the battle, I mean," he said hesitantly. "I'm sorry I didn't pick up on what you were trying to tell me sooner."

"I understand, kitten," she said gently. "It was something very new for you, so it wasn't easy to accept. I don't blame you for not thinking about it sooner, and I don't blame you for the men who died before you though to try to banish the marilith," she said firmly. "The truth is that the fault is mine. I should have realized that as tired and distracted as you were, your mind wouldn't consider something learned so recently. I should have told you what to do. So, kitten, don't blame yourself for that."

Though the words would have sounded empty from someone else, they came straight from the Goddess, and he found that he could accept her absolution. "I spoke your name out loud, Mother," he admitted sheepishly. "I didn't mean to do it, but when the spell was over, I realized that I'd broken my vow to you. I didn't have much choice, but I shouldn't have done it. I'm sorry."

"My name isn't a state secret, kitten," she chuckled. "Anyone with access to a library and a little patience can find it. So it's not like you revealed some great secret or anything." She put her hand on his shoulder. "And if you recall, I told you that those vows were meaningless. I gave you permission to break them any time you wished."

"I forgot about that," he admitted. "Mother, do I have to learn Priest magic now?"

She looked at him, then she laughed. "I'd say yes and no, kitten," she replied. "I think it would be good for you to learn about Priest magic, just so you have a better understanding of it. But you're already a Sorcerer, so I'm sure you won't be disappointed if I tell you that I won't grant you any magic that duplicates anything you can accomplish with Sorcery first. I will answer your prayers and grant you spells, but only things you can't do any other way but through Priest magic." She patted his shoulder. "So, kitten, I think you should go talk with Camara Tal. She can teach you all about Priest magic, and the spells they use."

"But she worships a different god."

"That doesn't matter," she replied immediately. "A long time ago, when the Younger Gods began to appear and we decided to allow them to give power to mortals, we all gathered together and debated the issue. I won't go into the details, but the result of that was a stricture stating that no god could grant any power that another god couldn't also grant, or conversely, a special power granted to a Priest could not exceed the power other gods granted to their Priests. The short of it, since it's a rather long-winded explanation and story about how we argued about the meaning of that rule, was that the ways in which a god can grant spells to a priest were standardized. That means that the spells that Camara Tal knows to seek power from her goddess are the same spells you would use to seek power from me. You just direct them to me instead of some other god, that's all."

"I didn't know that."

"You would have if you studied anything," she said sharply. "Priests do have one other power not related to spells, and that's that they can use our power to affect the undead and creatures of darkness."

"Like Demons?"

"No Demon could be affected by a power as weak as turning, kitten," she corrected him. "What you used was a spell, a very strong Priest spell."

"Oh. Why did they make up that rule, anyway?"

"To make sure that all Priests were equal," the Goddess told him. "Very early on, the Younger Gods realized that an effective way to reduce the power of a rival Younger God was to kill off his worshippers, so they tried to super-charge the Priests to turn them into war machines. The stricture was placed to give a Priest of one god a fighting chance against a Priest of another god. A Priest of higher rank, naturally, does gain more powers than an acolyte, but his power is equal to a Priest of comparable rank in another god's order. That keeps the Priests balanced and the gods they serve from getting any nasty ideas."

"I never dreamed being a god was so, political," he mused.

She laughed loudly, and for a long moment. "It's a very overrated profession, kitten," she beamed at him. "Sometimes I almost think I'd have preferred being a mortal."

"That explains why you like me to treat you like one," he reasoned.

"Not as a mortal, kitten. As a friend. I value your love more when it's given to me as more than just your god. Your love for me is deep and sincere, because you love me as a friend as much as you do as a god."

There wasn't much he could say to that. He bowed his head and let the moment pass. "When do you want us to leave?"

"As soon as possible,"she replied. "Even if you have to carry Keritanima to a ship on a stretcher. I'd like you to be on your way in two days at the most."

"I think that's workable for us, Mother. We knew we'd have to get to Wikuna before the summer solstice, and with the battle slowing us down, we knew it was going to be close. That we may have to jump on a ship as soon as the war was over. I guess we were right," he said with a rueful chuckle.

"You should think about how you're going to handle leaving," she told him. "You know that you can't take Jesmind and Jasana."

"I wouldn't be able to get Jesmind on the ship," he sighed. "Jenna can keep Jasana throttled, so I've already made those plans. They're staying here, in the Tower, until I get back. They have to stay near Jenna, and Jenna needs to be here."

"What about Jula?"

"I don't know yet," he replied. "That's going to be her decision. If she wants to come with me, she's welcome. I'll have to train Kerri in Weavespinner magic. One more pupil won't be too much of a burden."

"I see. What about the others?"