Chapter 3: Lost in the Wilderness

"You follow all the rules
 You swallow all the stories
 And every night you wish on a star
 Dreaming a day will come
 Trusting in allegories
 And every morning, boy, look where you are..."
 		-- "Lost In the Wilderness", Children of Eden

One voice spoke in the darkness.  "It is said that Amon-Keth, the Creator of
All, once spoke to J'Naith-Taral, the Rebel, the Prince of the Void.  And Amon-
Keth said, 'I am the Creator of All.  I am the creator of you, and of the Void,
and that the Void has not form has no consequence to me.'

"And J'Naith spoke, 'You are the creator of all.  I acknowledge that.  But you
have been delerect in your duties.  You have stopped creating.  You have no
plans!  You want me to come back to You, and I will Not.  I have free will, and
I am happy as I am.'

"This angered Amon-Keth.  He split the Void into a thousand thousand thousand
parts and bid them to spring up Worlds.  And the Worlds he created, he looked
upon them and declared them Good.

"Then J'Naith laughed.  He laughed long and hard. And finally he spoke.  'Amon,
you have not rid the Creation of the Void.  And now the Void is part of all the
worlds you created.  And your Creations will have the choice -- to turn their
face in awe of the Creator of All, and forward Your works or to turn their faces
away and work in service of the Prince of the Void.'

And the Creator of All created Sadness, as his tears dripped in the awful choice
he had give his creations.  And he retreated to the quiet of one of his Worlds,
and started the long task of turning eyes to the Glory of the Creation, with
J'Naith's laughter ringing in his ears.

"We work in the service of Amon-Keth.  But the choice must be made freely."

A hand lit the lamp, and the lamp lit an old man's face.  In front of him, a
young man knelt on his knees.  The old man spoke, and it was the voice that had
penetrated the darkness.  "Saulin P'lan Tjalip, you have a choice.  Do you have
an answer to that choice?"

The young man spoke for the first time.  "Yes.  I do."

"And your choice?"

"I make the choice in the name of Amon-Keth, who created the Worlds and
everything in them.  I choose to work for the Creation, and I pledge to reduce
the amount of the Void in my Life and in the Worlds.  Though J'Naith-Taral will
tempt me and attempt to force me to stray from this path, I will keep a steady
hand, and be secure in the knowledge that Amon-Keth will forgive my
transgressions as I forgive those overly influced by the Prince of the Void."
The young man looked up.  "And if I shall meet Amon-Keth ever, I will offer him
my sword, my staff, my bow, and my faculties."

A rumble of voices conveyed assent to this speech, and two men walked out of the
darkness, carrying a robe dyed light blue.  The old man reached forward and
unclipped the pin holding the young man's old robe together.  "In the name of
Amon-Keth, and in the name of the Society of Mages, I pronounce you, Saulin
P'lan Tjalip, a novice in the Society of Mages."

***

Katze sat on top of the wagon working its way away from Rhye.  It was a novel
experience, traveling only as fast as a pair of draft horses would go as opposed
to the speed of an automobile.

It had been a marvelous trip so far.  Katze was seeing her native land for the
first time, but found that she was amazed by the scenery.  And the slow travel
seemed to add some enchantment to the trip as well.

Grahm had been mostly preoccupied throughout the trip, but once they had left
Rhye, he had handed Katze a simple wooden staff.  When she had enquired what it
was for, he smiled quietly and said, "Every good wizard needs a staff, no?"

She looked at the staff again and thought of that line.  It was funny,
considering she wasn't a wizard.  The entire idea of being one of the lab techs'
magical girls entertained her muchly.  Yeah, she could do a few cool things with
simple thoughts, but that was psychic ability, not magic.  But then again,
things had changed so much.

Besides, she'd tried to hand the staff back to Grahm with the explanation that
she wasn't a magician the first time they had stopped after he had given it to
her.  Grahm was good at his quiet enigmatic smiles, and had said, "Time will
tell.  Besides, there's other reasons for a staff beyond magic, and I'm sure
you'll find it handy."  He had twirled his own staff, and tripped Katze, who was
starting to walk off.

Katze shook her head.  She had been badly caught off guard by Grahm's sudden use
of his staff as an offensive weapon.  In anger she had attempted to swing her
staff like a baseball bat, and then had hesitated slightly through, suddenly
fearing the turn of her own power against her.  Grahm used the hesistation to
parry the swing with his staff.

The next thing he did was quite extraordinary.  He had simply said, "Hit me."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't hurt me."

Katze had winced.  Grahm saw the wince, and had said quietly, "Katze, look.  The
shackles are off; you can hurt people now, and you won't hurt you.  Remember,
you killed Sid."

"I KNOW I killed Sid.  Doesn't make me any less afraid."

"And now you see the second point of the staff.  I am going to teach you how to
fight on this vacation, so you'll have at least a little competency with the
mage's three physical weapons.  Of those three, the staff is both the most well
known and the one that's hardest to kill with.  Of course, it can be done, but
it is by far harder than sticking somebody with a sword or shooting them with an
arrow."

"Of course, the most difficult of all a wizard's weapons is spellcasting, but
that is Kendren's job, and why we are going to Dewpoint."

And during the next few days, Grahm started teaching Katze the basics of staff
fighting.  She found herself taking to the new discipline well, and it pleased
her.  She had taken to practicing the dodges and lunges every time the wagons
stopped.

A voice broke through her thoughts.  "Marsanyew ahead!"

From the little bit of history she'd gotten, Katze knew the Great Tsunami had
traveled up the land almost all the way to Marsanyew.  Everything beyond
Marsanyew to the dreaded sea was considered wasteland, and supposedly nobody
lived there except a few crazies who were unafraid of the Old Man Across the
Sea's wrath.  There were rumours that they didn't live under the Marrakethian
Code of Ethics either.

The Code.  Katze felt some anger wash over her thoughts.  What had possessed
Tyrone Grehnich to propose the goddamn things anyway?  And what had possessed
both the Ancients and the D'wani to agree to them?  If they were needed, why had
the worst things in either culture's memory happened since then?

Katze was pulled from these thoughts as they rounded the bend into Marsanyew.
The town was huge, and bustling, and she couldn't understand why it would be so
busy.  Grahm had said that a lot of Marrakethians considered the town cursed,
having been touched by the tsunami that destroyed Dewpoint and most of the rest
of the former D'wani Empire.  But as she pondered this, she heard a roar growing
louder and louder in her ears like she had never heard before.  She looked
frantically for the source of the sound, but couldn't find it.

Having no clue what was going on, she simply screamed, "GET DOWN!" and leapt
from the wagon to hug the ground.  She lay there, eyes closed and expecting the
worst.  She heard a siren blaring under the roar and the screams of people, and
just grimaced.

The roar died away and something poked her in the back.  Katze opened her eyes
and rolled over to find Grahm standing there with his staff.  He was wearing his
usual bland expression, but his eyes were betraying his confusion and anger at
what just happened.  "You're lucky that was a wagon and not a car," he finally
said.  "Why did you jump out for no reason?"

Katze blinked some more.  "You didn't hear anything?"

Grahm shook his head no.  Katze got up out of the dirt, and rose.  "There was a
loud roar just now," she said, half in confusion and half in anger.  "People
were dying."

Grahm blinked in sudden surprise.  Katze had never recalled him doing that
before.  Finally he spoke.  "Turn towards the city and tell me what you see."

Katze turned back in the direction of Marsanyew, expecting to see what she had
just seen before.  Instead, she saw a much smaller town, with lots of destroyed
buildings around the edge furthest from where she was.  Her jaw dropped.  "It
changed."

"It didn't change for us.  I don't think it changed for you either, at least not
physically."

"You think I saw some sort of vision or something?"

Grahm nodded.  "I think you saw the tsunami.  Or would have, if you'd watched
the city instead of nearly breaking your neck.  I want you to keep in mind in
the future that visions shouldn't hurt you."

Katze sighed.  "Yes, I'll try."

***

The old man was writing when a knock came on the door.  "Who is it?" he called.

"Grahm Valkurk, recently arrived from Rhye," came the response.

The old man smiled.  "Do come in, Grahm, m'boy." Grahm came into the room and
took a seat, but fiddled with his staff instead of saying anything.  The old man
looked at him.  "So, we hear you brought a fellow traveler."

Grahm shook his head quietly.  "She's a strange one, Kendren.  I have no doubt
that she is the one referred to in prophecy, but she doesn't seem to have a clue
as to her real nature."

"Not yet, anyway."

"But I think she has some inkling.  It was all that I could do to get the copy
of Prophecium that Rene Ewerte, the head librarian at Rhye University, had given
her away before she read anything..."

"I don't think her having read Prophecium would have been all that crucial to
what is about to happen if you and I are right."

"She is the right one.  I know it."

"Then she'll know what to do, or we'll all drown.  In the meantime, we can
prepare her for it.  This is how we're going to handle that.  In the morning,
you will be her weapons instructor.  You've already got a start on it.  After
the midday meal, I will be her magic instructor, and after supper, I will have
Saulin teach her a better grasp on Marrakethian history and religion.  You know
he's studied it fairly recently, and it will be a feather in his cap."

"Yes, my teacher."

"I don't know who is the teacher and who is the student here, Grahm.  I just
know that Amon-Keth has given us a difficult assignment.  Because it is either
we succeed here, or Marraketh will no longer exist, other than as a large bay of
the Great Sea."

"And it all comes down to the choices of a girl who has spent maybe a month of
her life here."

"Amon-Keth sees all.  He created the tracks of the universe when we were only a
speck of dust lying on the future of his worlds.  He chose her for this
assignment, just as He has chosen you and I to guide her."

"I just hope He knows what He's doing."

Kendren smiled sadly at Grahm.  "That's the part you'll have to take on faith,
m'boy."

***

Katze looked around the warrens.  "You guys *live* underground?"

The young brownhaired man unloading a cart stopped what he was doing and looked
at her.  "Yes, obviously."

"Well, I mean, yeah, we're here, but *why*?"

The young man sighed.  "Have you not the sea fear?"

"Sea fear?  I don't like the ocean, I think the damned thing's going to sneak up
on me, but..."

"That's the sea fear.  We live underground because the ocean is very close to
us, and we do not wish to see it on a regular basis.  Because we can ignore the
fact that it's trying to sneak up on us if we can't see it.  But this is the
only place in Marraketh where we are free from prying eyes as to what we do."

"So...what if I was a member of the Frontier Guard?"

"You're not.  First, we trust Grahm Valkurk, because he knows who he is bringing
here, because he is a wise man.  Second, if you gave me any indication that you
were, I could have this place on top of you in a minute."

"Alright, I get it.  You think this place is safe."

"We believe so, yes."  The boy turned to haul his box and then stopped.  "I am
Saulin Tjalip," he said, and extended his hand.

"I'm Katze Brenner," Katze replied..

"Kat-say Bren-hur?" Saulin repeated back.  "Are you from K'Lin or something?"

Katze sighed.  "No, it's a long crazy story.  I'm as much a Marrakethian as you
are, though."

"I have never heard of the last name Bren-hur, though.  Is it one of the
mountain province names?"

"No.  Brenner's a name from elsewhere.  My given name in this world is Tjarlin
Katze.  But I'm..."

She stopped when she saw the awed expression on Saulin's face.  "You are Tjarlin
Katze?" he whispered.  "I have heard of you!"

Katze groaned.  "Yeah, you and everybody else in this godforsaken place."

A number of expressions crossed Saulin's face until he finally said, "Amon-Keth
has not forsaken this world."

Katze blinked.  "Ummm...who the hell is Amon-Keth?"

Saulin glared at her.  "For somebody who's talked about in such hushed tones,
you are really dumb."

A voice came from the corridor.  "Saulin."

Saulin swung around.  When he realized who was standing there, he said, "That
was inappropriate, my teacher, and I should not have said it."

Katze looked at who had entered the room.  One was obviously Grahm Valkurk, and
the other was an old man.  One of the debriefings she had sat through involved
what Red Paladin and Brynhild had seen in their adventures in Marraketh, as well
as the name Grahm had given her in Rhye.  She decided it was a safe guess, and
ventured, "I assume you're Kendren."

"Indeed.  And you must be Katze."  He turned to Saulin.  "There are many things
Marrakethians don't know in general, and Tjarlin has had maybe a month to even
get a brief understanding of Marrakethian culture.  I'm sure she could tell you
about a culture you would find alien."

Saulin nodded his head.  "Again, my teacher, I spoke before I thought.  This was
a mistake."

"Anyway, we came to find Katze, and let her know what we plan to do if she
wouldn't mind.  And I was looking for you, because I wanted you to join the
ranks of the teachers."

Saulin's face radiated awe.  "My teacher, I am only a novice, and I have only
found my place in the Society fairly recently."

"Nevertheless, you've had Marrakethian history recently, and you've already got
a question from your student about Amon-Keth."

Katze blinked.  "You're going to let him teach me?"

Kendren turned to Katze.  "Indeed.  You are a Marrakethian, and you need to
understand the culture you have been torn from.  This is the plan.  After the
early meal, you will have weapons instruction with Grahm until the midday meal,
and after the midday meal, you will have magic instruction with me until the
evening meal, and after the evening meal Saulin will be excused from his chores
to teach you Marrakethian history and religion."

Katze looked at Saulin.  Saulin very carefully avoided her gaze.  "I know some
Marrakethian history.  That's all I've been doing for the last week or so."

Grahm spoke up for the first time.  "You've learned it from books.  Saulin had
to learn it orally.  Besides, there's different traditions.  But we'll let you
out of it if you can answer your own question to Saulin."

Katze glared at him.  "Fine.  I'll defer to your wisdom.  But that doesn't mean
I'll have to like it."

***

Katze walked into the room where Grahm had told her to meet him, and was greeted
by a wooden sword being tossed at her.  She grabbed it out of midair and assumed
the stance she had been taught in her recruit training with TRES.  Grahm
laughed.  "I see somebody got to you before me on this one."

Katze laughed too.  "Yeah, recruit training.  They were baffled what to do with
me because I could do some of the work, but couldn't do the sparring.  They
finally decided it was best to let me hit dummies, so I learned some things."

"But not how to spar with an actual opponent?"

"Theory, not practice.  But you said last night theory doesn't matter much."

Grahm lept in front of her.  "Well, let's see how much theory you can apply to
practice.  En guarde!"

And they were off, slashing at each other with two wooden swords, occassionally
connecting, but most of the time dodging and lunging, parrying and riposting,
and generally having a good time.  Finally Grahm called a halt to the mock-fight
and said, "Not bad.  I see you have managed to turn some of your theory into
practice.  There's a few things you might want to work on, but for the most
part, I'm impressed."

***

"I'm not a mage," Katze protested.

"Sure you are.  Every Marrakethian has the ability," Kendren responded.  "It's
just magery's a bit more subtle than what you're used to."

Katze frowned.  "What do you mean?"

"Well, do me a favor.  Port over to the other side of the room and back, paying
attention to the process."

Katze did as she was told, willing herself to the right position and then
willing herself back.  And that was the word she used to describe it to Kendren.
"I *willed* myself there and back."

"Right.  You exerted your will, and did it.  But what would happen if you tried
asking?"

"Asking what?"

"Well, asking if the universe minded you being there instead of here."

Katze frowned again.  It *made* sense, in some complex way, but it seemed so
unnecesary and complicated to ask the universe if it would perhaps want to help,
and she said as much to Kendren.

"What do you think a spell is?" he asked.

"I...I don't know."

"Couldn't it just be what I said, asking the universe if it would consider
changing itself in some way to fit the needs of a mage?"

"It could, I suppose."

"That's magic."

"I think I get it."  Katze sat back, pondering this interesting way of looking
at the world and getting it to do your bidding.  "Ask and ye shall receive."

"Pretty much.  So ask the universe for me if it wouldn't mind you being in that
chair as opposed to this one."

Katze frowned and started muttering words to the universe, falling neatly into a
somewhat singsongy tone (which sounded really odd with the Marrakethian words
she was uttering), begging the Universe's attention and good tidings upon her
desire to be in that chair instead of this one.  She finished, sat there for a
second, and then realized her view of the room had changed.  "In the name of
Kyrill and all that is holy..." she muttered.

Kendren smiled.  "We like to believe that Amon-Keth hears the request and grants
it, but you're not far off.  We think Kyrill belonged to His side.  But you're
going to have to ask young Saulin about that, he would be the one who has to
teach you that."

***

Saulin looked up from his work.  "Good evening, my student!"

Katze sighed.  "Look, do we have to do it this way?  Can't you just be Saulin,
and I be Katze, and we all be happy being who we are and not go with titles?"

"Well, other than the fact that you were Katze, I would have to be Tjalip."

"Fine.  Can we be Tjarlin and Saulin to one another?"

"Oh, that I would have no problem with."

Katze sighed again.  "That's the point, though, Saulin.  You want to know how
long it's been since I've known that my name is the one you want to call me?
It's been about a month."

"So why do you want to be called by your paternal name and not your given name?"

"Because to me it *isn't* my paternal name.  Remember how I introduced myself?
Where I'm from, my name is Katze Janice Brenner."

"Jah-knees is a funky maternal name," said Saulin.

"It's not a maternal name, it's a given name -- although it happens to be the
name of my dad's dead wife.  Ay, it's complicated, Saulin.  The point is, I
would feel most comfortable if you please refer to me as Katze, even if you
think it's odd that I should be referred to by my paternal name.  Because, to
me, that's the name I'm used to and have been going by for twenty-eight odd
years, okay?"

"The world you come from is very complicated," Saulin said.  "But never you
mind.  If you want to be weird, and go by your paternal name, I will call you
such.  But for the record, I am Saulin."

"I figured."  Katze stared at the rock ceiling of the room they were in,
wondering what in the name of all that was holy led Kendren to assign this idiot
as her teacher.  Maybe it would have been better to stick with the
teacher/student labels.  Oh well, too late now.  "So, you want to answer the
first question I have on the table?"

"Who is Amon-Keth?"

"Yeah."

Saulin smiled.  "Amon-Keth is the creator of the universe and the source of
everything holy."

"Oh, great."  Katze sighed again, and tried a different track.  "Why is he
important to my understanding of Marrakethian history?"

"Besides the fact that He created Marraketh and set us all upon our tasks?"

"Well, yeah."

"Ahhh...well, it is like this.  Amon-Keth set the universe in motion, and first
created beings like himself who might take part in his Creation.  Of these, the
first and the fairest was J'Naith.  After J'Naith came M'kan and Aktali and
Geron, and these four served as Great Council to the Creator.

"But J'Naith was not happy with simply being the First Creation, the First and
Fairest, the apple in Amon-Keth's eye, and he began plotting ways in which he
could take over the Creation.  There was no way to take the Creation without
taking on M'kan and Aktali and Geron, all of whom, though they were not the
First, still were on par with him.

"None of them would join in his rebellion, so J'Naith fled to the Void where
Creation didn't exist and took the title of Taral, the Rebel.  Once he was in
the Void, he tried to Create, but found that the power he had been given to help
was not strong enough to change this place, so he set about strengthening the
Void, and then one day, he tempted Amon-Keth with the Void, which he had
declared his Princedom.

"Although M'kan and Aktali together tried to convince Amon-Keth to leave J'Naith
alone in his loneliness and deception -- Aktali supposedly said, 'He is chained
in that Void, he cannot affect the Creation' -- J'Naith's taunts that Amon-Keth
had stopped Creating weighed heavy on Amon-Keth's soul, and in Anger, he turned
the Void into Worlds, thus releasing J'Naith into the Creation once again.

"And since then, every created thing has to make the choice for whom they are
working -- to restore the Creation to its original beauty, or to bring more
Rebellion in the world.  And it is not a sure thing, J'Naith could win it all if
there are none found willing to fight for the Creation."

Katze blinked at this long recetation of what sounded like myth.  "It's the age
old battle of Good vs. Evil," she mused.  "But that still doesn't explain how
any of this has to do with Marraketh."

"It is pretty simple.  Marraketh is one of the battlegrounds of this War, and
J'Naith very nearly won.  In fact, he has not lost yet, but..."  Saulin looked
at Katze suddenly, and stopped speaking at all.

"Saulin?" Katze asked, not at all sure of the expression on his face.

Saulin said, quietly, "I think that is all for tonight."  Before Katze could say
anything, he fled the room.

"That's odd," Katze muttered to herself.

***

The days went by, and Katze found herself living a life in which she never
believed she'd feel comfortable.  Grahm had been just as good as teaching
swordplay as he had been with teaching her how to use the staff, and it made her
happy that her TRES officer's sword might have slightly more use than decorating
her office.

Kendren had been calm and kind, and she was starting to get the hang of a new
and more subtle way of interacting with the universe that wasn't so wearing as
bruteforcing the whole thing.  That amazed her nearly as much as the way she was
taking to her weaponry training.  It was as if part of her brain had been in
neutral, just waiting to absorb all this and absorb it quickly, and it somewhat
awed her.

Saulin, though...Katze sighed as she thought of him.  The two hadn't hit it off
well, and that first night of teaching when they sparred about names and it had
ended with Saulin fleeing from the room.  In future nights, he was much more
cautious, and took less questions from Katze, as if her questions from that
night had been what had set him off. It was truly odd, and when she asked
Kendren about Saulin's oddness, she got back "Saulin is young, and he is still
learning himself."

She sighed, and turned her attention back on the midday meal.  Somehow, today,
she had found a table all to herself, which was nice because it gave her some
time to be alone with her thoughts, which was a luxury she hadn't had in a
while.  The only other time she really had without anybody talking to her was
bedtime, but that was for sleeping.  The insomnia that plagued Katze from time
to time had been completely nonexistant on this trip.

Somebody sat across from her.  Katze looked up, only to see Saulin there.  "Oh,
hi," she said, not completely sure what to make of his presence.

"I think I owe you an apology," Saulin said.

"Why?" Katze was suprised at those words, Saulin had never struck her as the
type who would be apologetic.

"I thought I would be good at teaching and I am not," Saulin said.  "I am about
to ask my teacher if he feels whether it would be wiser if I no longer taught
you."

Katze looked at Saulin in surprise.  "Why would you do that?"

"You seem like you don't care what I have to say, and I fear that I antagonized
you from the very beginning."

Saulin sat there with such a look of distress that Katze, despite not liking
Saulin that much, felt as if she had to do something to make him feel better.
"No, you're doing fine.  I'd like it if you'd let me ask more questions, but..."

"Are you *serious*?" Saulin said, his distressed look being replaced with one of
awe and wonder he had when Kendren had directed him to teach her in the first
place.  "You are so patient and kind with me!"

Katze winced, realizing she'd just set herself up with another bunch of lessons
on Marrakethian history from Saulin.  Oh well, it couldn't be helped, and she
would suffer through it if it meant that Saulin might just let her ask questions
again.  She still wondered what had set him off that night.

But no matter, lunch was almost over, and she had more lessons to attend.  She
handed her bowl to the washer and fled for the classroom in which she had her
lessons in, only to find Grahm there waiting for her.  "Where's Kendren?" she
asked.

"Important business, and I had something I needed to show you.  Come with me."

He grasped her hand and before she knew it, they were standing somewhere very
familiar to Katze.  "Grahm...this is the Eucalyptus Grove!  We're in Berkeley!"

Grahm nodded.  "Come, let us find somewhere to sit.  I want you to feel this
world."

"Feel this world?"

"Yes.  In order to make the transit between worlds, you have to know both of
them.  So, we'll start on Earth.  And what better place than the part of Earth
you know best?"  Grahm smiled.  "Besides, I liked Berkeley.  It was a good
town."

The two walked eastward up the hill towards the Campanille.  Katze looked
around, but summer traffic was always lighter than normal campus traffic, and
she didn't see anybody she knew.  It felt nice, for once, to be semi-anonymous
in a crowd.

They took seats on the steps just under the Campanille, looking out towards the
Golden Gate.  Katze watched the scenery passing and said, "It's funny.  I know
there's ocean out beyond the bridge, and that even the Bay's technically ocean,
but it doesn't bother me that badly."

"But when you're at the beach, it strikes horribly?"

"Yeah.  I have to find high ground and keep an eye on it.

"The sea fear.  All Marrakethians have it.  Comes from the days when Tirrasan
sent the ocean to destroy us."

Katze nodded, and tried to keep concentrated on feeling the world.  It was odd
thinking of it at this level, trying to make the world part of oneself so that
one could always use it as a marker.  All this for a world she had known for a
very long time, the world she would have called her own even half a year ago.
The thought made her feel rather lonely, and she wondered how Mal and Ari were
holding up without her.

Grahm spoke, quietly.  "It is a beautiful world."

"I've always liked it," Katze said.  "Spend summers hiking in redwood groves
and some days basking in the sun in Berkeley, and it's kinda hard not to.  You
really ought to see Colorado, too.  I love California, but Colorado's up there
too.  The Rockies make the Sierras look small."

"Someday you'll have to show me," Grahm said.  "It sounds rather nice."

A light breeze played with their hair and neither person spoke for a very long
time.  Finally, Grahm looked at his watch.  "We probably ought to be heading
back," he said.  "Have to do it on the other end as well, and then you'll
probably be clear enough to start making the hops on your own."

Katze nodded.  "That was something else.  I'd forgotten how much this world
feels like home to me."

Grahm smiled.  "'Tis only natural, it was home."  He grabbed her hand, and just
like that, they were back in the classroom they'd started in.  "I want you to do
the same here, but you can probably work on it and other things.  It might be
good to do it while you're trying to concentrate on Saulin's teachings."

Katze smiled.  "Probably.  Oh well, he's going to let me ask more questions,
which should make that excercise slightly more tolerable."

Grahm laughed.  "Indeed.  I'll see you tomorrow morning."

***

The next morning dawned bright and clear as Katze wandered along the corridor to
find Grahm.  Today, she found Grahm firing arrows at a bale of hay.  "Archery!"
she said, grinning.

Grahm looked up.  "Yep.  The third physical weapon of the Society of Mages.
Here's the nice thing, though."  He beckoned Katze over to a table.  "This bow
is the longbow type that is most commonly used in Marraketh," he said, as he
picked up a curved piece of wood and a string.  "I want you to get the hang of
this one, but..."  He picked up the bow he had been shooting with.  "...there
are always innovations.  This is a compound bow, and it helps with accuracy, and
it's also nice because the pulleys make it easier to keep the bow drawn back.
One of the nice things about technology marching forward."

Katze giggled.  "Earth is good for something!" she said.

Grahm smiled in return.  "Yes.  And if you're planning on staying there, I'd
actually recommend a compound bow.  They're just easier to use.  But I want you
to have some familiarity with a longbow, so let's start with that one."

Katze picked up the longbow off the table.  Grahm handed her an arrow, and Katze
took it.  It felt like instict to place it between her fingers and nock it into
the string on the back of the bow.  Things from high school physical education
classes dribbled out of her memory, and she assumed the stance that she recalled
and drew back the string, and then released.

The string thwapped her arm.  "Augh!" Katze cried, and then looked up at Grahm,
who was watching the target with some expression of disbelief.

He looked at the arrow quivering in the bullseye and quietly said, "How did you
do that?"

"I don't know.  I screwed something up, it shouldn't have..."

Grahm frowned.  "I think I know what happened.  Tell me, have you ever fired a
gun?"

"A couple times.  Once I ended up with a bullet in my foot, but that was very
clearly the effects of the name spell.  Josh was shocked to lift his foot and
find a bullet underneath it."

"Okay, have you ever fired a gun when you've aimed at a non-person target?"

"In recruit training.  After the trainer picked himself off the ground to dodge
the randomly flying bullet, he decided that it was best not to have me do any
more of that."

"Here's what I think is happening.  Some Marrakethians have this ability, some
don't, and it appears you're one of those who do.  If you're concentrating on a
target, your mind seems to want to help the arrows find it."

"I didn't think any such thing!" Katze protested.  "I was too busy yelping from
where the string hit me!"

"Well, it's not exactly a conscious effort.  And you're going to do it with any
ranged weapon, which is why guns are such a problem.  You see, there's some
effective size restraints to the aiming.  Arrows aren't hard, they're just about
the right size.  But bullets are too small -- you nudge them, and they get out
of alignment, and you nudge them back in, and pretty soon they're flying in odd
patterns throughout the room.  And the effect is worsened by the amount of
things you have flying in the air."

"In other words, I don't ever want to fire a gun where there's anybody who might
be a friendly in the place."

"You probably don't ever want to fire a gun ever, honestly, because there's
always a friendly in the room.  Unless you like getting shot."

"No thanks, it was bad enough taking a bullet in the foot."

Grahm laughed.  "Right.  Stick to the bow, it's a much better weapon, and it
will be scary enough in your possession.  Now, let's try to fix the problem that
caused you to get whacked with the string..."

And the archery lesson proceeded, and at the end of the morning, Grahm presented
Katze with the longbow.  "You're not bad with it."

"Thanks," Katze said.  "I think I'm going to pick up a compound bow when I'm
back Earthside too.  From what I remember, they're just slightly more fluid."

"Right, but now you can use either type.  Or a recurve bow, for that matter,
which is the third type.  But have a Marrakethian standard longbow.  Your
heritage, remember?"

Katze laughed.  "Right."

***

It was another morning in the warrens of the Society of Mages.  Somebody banged
on Katze's door and called, "Morning meal in five!"

Katze yawned and stretched, feeling somewhat odd that morning, as if she could
do anything.  It was as if something in her had loosened, and she was somehow
connected to the universe in a fashion she had never noticed before.  She looked
around the room and noted everything was in much sharper definition than normal,
and some objects seemed to have a somewhat unearthly glow to them.  She frowned
and put on her glasses.

It wasn't though they were doing much this morning, and Katze realized suddenly
that it was because she had been seeing quite clearly without them.  That fact
seemed awfully odd -- she'd been severely nearsighted for as long as she could
remember, and she shouldn't have been able to see that clearly without her
glasses.  She took them off, frowned again, and then put them back on simply
because she was used to wearing them, and who knew when this effect would wear
off.  Strangely, the prescription lenses weren't skewing her vision either.

She looked at herself in the mirror, and didn't notice anything different.  Her
hair was still that dirty blonde it had always been, her eyes the same blue-
grey, the face was the same one that always stared back at her from the mirror.
But there was something different she wasn't placing.  She frowned at her
reflection, put on her Cal hat and the brown cape Kendren had been insisting she
wear, and then went out for breakfast.

At breakfast, she managed to score the corner table where she could watch the
rest of the Society without being bothered.  Even some people seemed brighter
than others -- good quiet Grahm nearly hurt to look at, he was so bright, but
others she knew were rather brilliant as well.  Even young Saulin was one of the
brighter folks in the room.  And by looking at people, she got some idea how
they fit in the social structure of the Society.

She tried to ignore the odd feelings this gave her.  It couldn't be anything
important, it was just things acting up and it would eventually go away.  Or at
least she hoped, she wasn't sure she could tolerate this level of intensity for
days at a time.

She wandered through the day in an odd sort of focus and not-focus, not really
paying attention to what she was doing, but somehow managing to get it right
anyway.  It was really hard to spar with Grahm if she was really paying
attention, him being so bright, but if she put it out of her head, she did
fairly well at besting him.  Grahm either didn't notice or didn't say anything
about how distant she was being, which was not like him, but Katze was too off
in her own thoughts to really concern herself with this.

Kendren's magic lessons seemed just as easy as sparring with Grahm, something
she could do without really paying attention.  Kendren wasn't as close to being
as bright as Grahm, but there was still something there that she could see that
she hadn't before.  There was that feeling that Kendren had an important piece
to play in the future, and he just simply had not played it yet.  And his faith
was strong.  That was something Katze found odd, too, being able to judge levels
of faith at a simple glance.

She stopped by her room and stared at herself again in the mirror on the way to
Saulin's room for her evening lesson, but still found no difference in the
reflection that stared back at her.  She shook her head, said out loud, "Hmmm,
still apperantly me," and laughed before heading back out.

Saulin was already waiting.  He smiled when he saw her.  "Good evening, Katze!"
he called.

"Evening, Saulin," she said back.  How suprising she'd thought of this young man
as an idiot as she could tell now that he really wasn't.  Silly of them to get
into a fight on the first day over something as silly as *names*.

"You look as if you've just met Amon-Keth along the road," he said.  "Speaking
of which, do you know what to do in that situation?"

"No, tell me."

"Well, you offer him your blade, your staff, your bow, and your faculties.
Actually lay the weapons at his feet if at all possible.  If you do it right,
and he believes in your sincerity, he just might bless you.  And that would be
the most wonderful thing."

Katze smiled.  "I hope someday you meet him, Saulin."

"I hope so too," he said, smiling broadly.  "So what's on the lesson plan for
today?"

Katze blinked for a second, and found herself asking, "On the first day, you
said J'Naith could still gain control of Marraketh.  What did you mean?"

"He has to tempt the Liberator, the Saviour of Marraketh," Saulin said.  "And if
the Liberator fails that test, then all of Marraketh will be lost to Amon-Keth.
It is a pretty hefty responsibility.  It is one that I am happy I do not have to
do."

"So, Saulin, who is this Liberator?" Katze asked.

Saulin looked around.  "We don't know," he whispered quietly.

"Do you have any suspicions?"

"...yeah.  We do."

"Who, Saulin?" Katze asked, with more force than she really expected.

Saulin stared at her, quivering in his shoes.  "You fit all the prophecy," he
whispered.  "But I wasn't supposed to let you know that."

Katze looked at him, long and hard.  Finally she let out a deep breath, "Now it
all makes sense.  Your panic that first night.  Why you and Grahm and Kendren
have felt as if you're working against a deadline in trying to teach me all this
stuff.  Because I have a job to do."  She stared up at the dirtpacked ceiling,
trying to contain herself.  "Because it's not enough for me to simply have been
Katze Brenner in the first place!"

Saulin backed against a wall, "Uh...I think you were Tjarlin Katze before that."

Katze glared at him.  "We're not having this arguement again."

Saulin shook his head.  "I wasn't trying to have the arguement again, but I'm
just pointing out the facts to you.  You were... you *are* ...first and foremost
a Marrakethian.  A very special one, apperantly.  I wouldn't want to have to
face down J'Naith-Taral, not even with Amon-Keth on my side."

Katze stared at him some more.  Saulin attempted to actually hide in the wall,
but failed.  "Please don't be angry with me," he cried.  "Please!  I was just
trying to do my job!"

She frowned and thought some more.  "I don't know what to say, except that I
find myself rather tired right now, Saulin.  Do you mind if I excuse myself for
the night?"

Saulin shook his head, and waved at the door.  Katze looked at his stricken
face, and finally said, "I'm sorry, Saulin.  I didn't want this."

And she left the room.

***

Saulin ran into Kendren's office.  "Master Kendren!  Master Kendren!"

"Yes, Saulin?" Kendren asked.  "Excuse me, Grahm," he said to the other person
in the room.

Saulin took a deep breath.  "Master Kendren, my teacher, I just screwed up
horribly.  I told Tjarlin the truth."

Kendren looked at him.  Grahm finally spoke up.  "That means it'll be any time
now.  I am sure she's the one, the way she's been picking up things."

Kendren nodded.  "May Amon-Keth give her the strength to make it through this."

Saulin looked from one to the other.  "I did no wrong?"

"The truth would have come out eventually, Saulin," Grahm said.  "If it wasn't
you, it would have been one of us.  Where is she now?"

"Retired to her room for the night," Saulin said.  "She felt tired."

"Tonight then, most likely," Kendren said, and the three of them stood in
silence, hoping that the one they'd put so much effort into would pull a good
showing.  All of their survival depended upon it.

***

To be continued in Chapter 4: The Awakening.