Allia stood at the rail of the garish ship, staring out towards one of the escorting clippers with distant eyes. She ignored the voices behind her, though her warrior's mind kept track of absolutely everyone on deck at all times. Dolanna was behind her, seated on a small bench, talking with Triana. Jula-that dishonorable sugo!-sat beside Triana, as was her direction. Triana kept the younger Were-cat within arm's reach at all times. Camara Tal's voice also reached her, up on the steering deck, as she conversed with Renoit and a rat Wikuni by the name of Kergon, the liason officer and de-facto captain of Dancer now that it was being manned by Wikuni sailors. Phandebrass' rattling voice droned on and on as he interrogated one of the Wikuni sailors mercilessly, seeking some obscure bit of knowledge about which nobody other than him cared. Dar was nowhere to be heard on deck, but that was not unusual. Since Tarrin left, the yong Arkisian had been even more quiet than usual. Tarrin had been one of the few people the young man felt comfortable speaking with, and without his friend there, he felt very much out of place among the older, more seasoned members of their group. Dar found comfort in talking with her, but since Tarrin's departure, Allia had withdrawn herself from the others, and the young human did not wish to disturb her any more than necessary.
Time. It seemed so much the chore now. Time would return her family to her, but the wait seemed unbearable. She wanted to turn the ship around, to go back to the desert and find him, but she knew that that was impossible. She wanted Keritanima to give up on her mission in Wikuna and return to her, but again, she knew it was impossible. What she desired would come to her in time, but it was the time that she did not want to face. But the person did not choose the time, time chose the person. There was little she could do but endure, persevere, and wait out time's fickle nature.
Time aboard a ship was a time of both endless slowness and swift passage. The routine aboard a ship did not change from day to day, making every day drag from sunrise to sunset. But the passage of those days was remarkably swift, leaving one in a curious state of feeling like one was aboard forever, yet finding one's self surprised when the destination appeared on the horizon. It was so for Allia now, for many on the ship. Time dragged by from moment to moment, but they were only days from Suld. Days from where she met her brother and sister, days from the Tower of Sorcery, days from returning to the place they had fled so long ago. It had been a little less than a year, but it seemed more like a lifetime. They had left last fall, and here it was late summer, just before fall once again. They were returning to the place where it had all begun, where she met her brother and sister, where they had learned what they were and what it meant, where Tarrin had come to terms with Jesmind, where Jula had betrayed them. They were returning to the top of the circle, preparing to make another revolution.
The others were preparing for it. Dolanna had been preparing herself for the wait, in a place that would be hostile to them. Triana had been preparing Jula for a return to civilization, and Phandebrass looked forward to delving into the Tower's library while awaiting Tarrin's return. Dar seemed uncertain as to what he would do, for he was technically still an Initiate, and a runaway Intiate at that.
There were other things to prepare for, and they all knew it. The nameless traitor still resided in the Tower, so far as they knew, a woman with dark intent. A spy and sycophant for the mysterious ki'zadun, a shadowy organization that had been trying to kill them for a very long time. There would be the need to find and eliminate her, to keep their enemies from getting their hands on the Book of Ages. The Sorcerer Sevren had been working within the Tower to find her while they were gone, but none of them knew what success, if any, they had had.
And there were rumors. Rumors of war in Sulasia, of occupation by Daltochan, that Dal armies were marching on Suld. The rumors said that they were doing it because they believed that the Firestaff was being held in the Tower of Sorcery, and they meant to take it by force if needs be. They didn't know the vailidy of those rumors, but their Wikuni allies had told them that there were Dal armies in Sulasia. There was indeed war.
The idea that they may be sailing into a harbor besieged by enemy forces was a very real possibility, and that was something for which the others were also planning. Dolanna seemed confident that no army could take Suld, but Allia was a warrior. She knew that no defensive position was impregnable. If the Dals threw enough men into it, they could swarm over the walls of Suld. But she had to admit that Suld was a very large city, with a large standing army within its walls, and those walls and the city's defensive fortifications were kept in good repair. Given enough of a defending force, and the Sorcerers and Knights to back them up, the city could be held against an army many times its size.
There were many things that unsettled her, unsettled them all, but nothing would give them answers but time. They wouldn't find out until they arrived, and until then there was nothing to do but plan for eventualities and prepare for the trials ahead.
Putting her hands on the rail, she looked out past the ships, out over the endless blue water. It used to frighten her, but so long aboard a ship had eased her fear of the water. Beyond that endless sea, in a land beyond her imagination, her dear sister sat on a gilded throne and ruled her people. Separated from her by need, she labored to return to them. How she missed Keritanima. She was one of the few that could make Allia and Tarrin laugh, truly understood both of them. It had been too long since she had been with them.
"What about Jula?" she heard Dolanna say. Allia always paid attention when that hated name was uttered. Allia did not trust Jula, did not like her, and only her vow not to harm her to Tarrin kept her alive. They had crossed swords several times on the journey, and the fledgeling Were-cat had learned the hard way that her rage and power meant nothing to the lightning-fast Selani warrior. Allia knew how to kill a Were-cat, and only the dishonor of breaking a vow stayed her hand on more than one occasion. The repeated humiliation had had an effect on Jula as well, and she could see the fire in the Were-cat's eyes every time she looked in Allia's direction. Jula wanted to pay her back for her embarassment, but she knew that against Allia, she had no chance of surviving, let alone winning. She knew that if she took it over the line, the Selani would rise up and destroy her without a second thought or reservation. Jula knew better than that, no matter how much it rankled her.
"What about her?" Triana asked in her commanding voice. Nobody on the ship, even the Wikuni, could deny that Triana was the one that ruled them all. Her power and authority were palpable things, like an aura of utter control that surrounded her at all times, and nobody on the ship dared even give her a crosswise look. That stare of hers was enough to cow even a rampaging kajat. "She's not ready to be taken off her leash, but I think the exposure to humans will be good for her. At least not these humans."
"But she was once ki'zadun."
"I'm through with them," Jula said in a shuddering voice. That, at least, Allia believed. Jula had suffered horribly at the hands of her former employers, and in that Allia did not doubt the Were-cat's sincerity. Allia still felt her to be dishonorable and conniving, but her eventual betrayal of them would be for personal reasons rather than loyalty to her old organization. "I already told you I'd help you find anyone I know in the Tower. At least anyone still left."