"Well then, I'd say that the encounter did more good for you than we first thought," Sarraya told him with a smile.

"I hope so," he said absently, turning an ear to the wind. It was still howling outside.

"I don't think you should start right now," Sarraya told him. "Take a couple of days first. Think about everything, rest a while. You're not quite ready to take on something like this yet."

"I know, but I do know that I can't waste too much time."

"Why?"

"You told me that the Sha'Kar said that my time was running out," he replied. "I'm on a tight schedule here, it seems. So tight that the Goddess had to send the Sha'Kar to move me along. I'll wait a day, but that's all. Tomorrow night, I'm going to start trying to find my power again."

"I hate to say it, but you're right. I hate working on someone's strings," Sarraya grunted.

"We've been doing this since the start, Sarraya," he told her. "Sometimes, I think that I was born with those strings on me."

"Maybe. But look at it this way. At least you're having a very interesting life."

He looked at her, then laughed in spite of himself. "Want to trade?"

"Ah, no. I doubt I'd enjoy going through life as a boy."

"What difference does it make?"

"All the difference in the world," she replied. "Bodies are bodies, but souls are the true gender. If I were trapped in a man's body, I think I'd have a very hard time functioning in human society."

"You do already."

"I'm not human, am I?"

"Neither am I. At least not anymore."

"Would you want to go back?"

"I don't think about that, Sarraya," he said seriously. "I never think about what could have been. I can't change the past, so it's better if I don't dwell on things I can't change. This is the way it is, and that's life. I can't be changed back without dying in the process, so I'm stuck this way."

"Just for argument's sake, let's say you could. Would you want to?"

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the stone behind him. When he closed his eyes, the eyeless face appeared in his mind, casting salt into his raw wounds yet again. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I've been this way for so long, I can't even imagine being another way. But-I just don't know, Sarraya."

"Tarrin… what do you think you'll do when this is all over?" she asked hesitantly.

"I haven't thought about it," he told her. "To be honest, I don't expect to live through this. And maybe that's for the best."

"Why say something like that?"

"I have something to focus on now. When this is over, I'll have nothing left in my life. Kerri will go back to Wikuna, and Allia will go back to the desert. I could visit, but I wouldn't be welcome in either place. I know that already. I'd have no purpose, no goal. And without something in my life, my ferality will take over. I'll end up like Mist, living in complete fear. I think I'd rather die than face that." He sighed. "I'm a Weavespinner, Sarraya. I know how powerful I am. Do you want someone like me out there, with all this power, and no constraints about using it?"

"Well… no."

"I've done enough damage already. I'm tired of destroying things, of killing people. The best thing that could happen out of all this is I end up getting killed when it's over."

"Well, I think that that's a defeatist attitude," she said sternly. "Triana would slap you for saying such things."

"Triana would understand," he told her. "She wouldn't like it, but she'd understand."

"Well, I don't understand, and I won't allow it. I absolutely forbid you to die."

Tarrin looked down at her, then chuckled. "And who made you queen of the universe, little dolly?"

"I did," she said flippantly. "And as queen of the universe, you can't disobey me. If you die on me, I'll kill you."

Tarrin laughed. "Yes, Your Majesty," he said in mock supplication.

"Now let's get some sleep," Sarraya said. "We have a long way to go."

"Isn't that the truth," Tarrin agreed in a distant tone. "A very long way to go."

The last rays of the sun peered over the twin mountains known as the Earth's Breast, shining their last on the grim stone fortress built at the top of a sheer mountain. It was known as Castle Keening, a name granted to it because of the fierce mountain winds that howled through the battlements at all hours of the day and night. Its builders designed it to guard the wide mountain pass which it overlooked, a protection from raiding Goblinoid tribes that would attack mining caravans that extracted the precious metals, iron, and lead that were abundant in the range that surrounded the triple lakes known as Petal Lakes. But as the Dals pushed the Goblinoids more and more out of the mountains to the south, the need for the grim fortress waned. It was left abandoned, fell into disrepair, after its service was no longer required. The memory of it faded as the deposits of metals were mined out in the southern reaches of the Petal Lakes region, as the miners moved to the north to exploit the mineral wealth that remained. The wide pass below was dotted with abandoned villages and solitary inns, respites from hard mountain travel for the miners and the merchants that came to buy their ores, and the wagoneers that transported it.

Now, the pass was filled with a thousand bonfires. The fires were those of Goblinoids, returned to their ancestral territory, returned for a terrible purpose. They stood in the shadow of the massive citadel on the mountaintop, a citadel that looked down on them with dark vision and inspired fear in them. Not because of the old fortress of grim stone, but of those who were within.

It was known as Castle Keening, but now the keening was rumored to be from the agonized screams of the many who had met their end within its walls. It was a major stronghold of the ki'zadun, a powerful network of mages, priests, spies, and dark entities whose main objective was nothing short of world domination. It was an organization that sought only to increase its own power, in any way possible. They had agents and operatives in nearly every major kingdom or duchy, and their fingers were spread across the world. Be it economical, political, or even militaristic, very little happened that the ki'zadun did not know about, or have a hand in. From the plains of Valkar to the streets of Wikuna, from Dusgaard to Pyrosia, from Suld to Shu Tung, the ki'zadun poisoned the entire world with their dark purpose.

Their nearest neighbors, Draconia and Daltochan, knew about Castle Keening, knew about who inhabited it, but that was of no importance. The ki'zadun now controlled both kingdoms, and it was their hand that guided the war with Sulasia, a war that was progressing on schedule. They had crippled Sulasia, and now their Draconian operatives had managed to incite war between Tykarthia and Ungardt, eliminating the greatest threats to them. Now they could amass their true armies without fear of retaliation, without fear of a pre-emptive assault. The dangerous Ungardt were now slaughtering Tykarthians, and the efficient armies of Sulasia were pinned back by the ears, trying to stop an invasion of Daltochan's armies and their Goblinoid allies. And what was most important, the Sorcerers of the katzh-dashi were sitting in Suld, unwilling to aid the Sulasian armies until Suld itself became threatened. The Dal threat kept them there, kept their members from travelling and seeking out the truth of the invasion, and their Goddess refused to grant them divine knowledge.

They would not understand until it was too late.

Kravon stood at the balcony of Castle Keening, staring down at the fires below, finding himself very pleased by the progression of events. Despite their setbacks with the Were-cat, everything else was moving smoothly. But, any good plan was bound to have a snag or two during its execution. So on the whole, he was content with the performance of his sycophants. He pulled his old cloak about him a bit as the wind took a raw quality, as the beginnings of winter had begun to show in the air. Winter came early in the high mountains, and it lingered long after the lower elevations had spring blossoms budding in the fields.