Disclaimer --- While I do wish that I had a hand in writing up the Tortallan universe, we all know that the ever-fabulous Tamora Pierce was its sole creator. So yeah, I don't own these characters. At all.

Note --- Also, this story pretty much follows a year after The Gate of Idramm, so there might be a few mentions of that event strewn into the plot.

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Chapter 1
Competition

Like the impatient feline she was coined after, the coppery redhead paced back and forth, growling. The flames were about to go out in the fireplace, and she gave a small wave to increase their warmth. Outside, the wind sent an icy drift into the room through the open window. She'd have closed it by now, but she periodically looked out into the storm for a glimpse of the rider she'd awaited all night.

He's late.

When Alanna arrived yesterday morning, she had been apprehensive of the darkening sky. She didn't have to be a weather-witch to have detected the oncoming storm. Yet for all the tell-tale signs of a natural pattern, her Gift tingled, which gave her reason to suspect that the storm had someone's powers involved. What's more, the lady knight had been expecting her newly-wed husband back. They'd both promised to get back to celebrate a year of marriage, after all.

The wind howled once more, breaking her concentration, and the fire completely died out as she jumped from the violent rattling of the windows. "For the love of—!"

Frustrated, purple flames erupted from her fingertips and went to the windows, tightly sealing them against the battering wind.

The Lioness sneezed three times in a row.

She wasn't waiting any longer. Grabbing her cloak and using her Gift to warm herself, Alanna rushed down the hall. With a quick word to Maude, she took to the weather.

The air around her whistled with unknown power. Alanna's eyes watered and she braced herself for the sneezes that would follow suit. Lifting her necklace out of her shirt and touching the stone at its end, she could detect traces of silver magic flowing in the wind.

This alarmed her. The last time she'd seen heaps of silver magic was in Carthak…

"Alanna!" yelled a hoarse voice behind her. When she'd turned around, the man had already dismounted from his horse and rushed to her side, lifting her up with glee. "What are you doing outside?"

"There's something wrong, George," she was truly glad to see him, but the weather had taken its turn for the worse, and she could not let it alone. "Someone's doing this to the wind!"

The baron of Pirate's Swoop frowned, his hazel eyes turning a darker shade of green than when he first laid eyes on his wife that night. "You mean the storm? Well, let's get ourselves out of it for one thing. I do have some kind of news about this."

Is it wise to involve her, Chosen?

Not now, Kyprioth, he replied, knowing the Trickster God's eyes were watching him from above. She's clearly disturbed by all the magic you lot are cookin' up!

For good reason!

Warm again, Alanna plopped on the nearest chair. "I'm sorry, George, I would have tried to clear the weather up for you, but I have this feeling it'd take more than just my Gift to do that with the aura I'm detecting."

George gave her a grim smile and sat across her. "I had a feelin' you wouldn't pass the opportunity by and knew you'd notice soon enough."

"Why? Do you know what's going on?" the lady knight was surprised. Besides the Sight, George Cooper possessed no other signs of the Gift to be able to truly detect anything. "With your Sight?"

He shook his head. "Err, I've just been to Arram's. Sorry, Numair's."

"This isn't an experiment of his, is it?" she was cross. The rare few days she could spend with her new spouse, and one of it is already horrid weather!

"No, though I wish it was just that," he'd ruffled his hair and sighed. "Truth be told, it's got somethin' to do with the folks above. I know you've only just dealt with them, what with Carthak and all."

Oh, not again. Alanna groaned. At least this time, she wasn't having any visions. "Why in Pirate's Swoop of all places?"

"It's not just the Swoop, Alanna," and this time, she could detect worry in his voice. "Before seeing Numair, I'd been to Corus. Their weather is just as horrible and unnatural. Listen, Numair is comin' down to see you. I think he's better off explainin'."

Having second thoughts?

I would rather not reveal your hand in this. And remember, she knows nothing of my patron god.

George heard the Trickster God's chuckle. Am I that shameful a god for you to conceal me so?

The former Rogue cringed slightly. After he'd turned respectable? And his wife the Chosen mortal representing the Great Mother Goddess? Mentioning that he occasionally did the Trickster's duties would be a bit off-putting to say the least. No, he was better off keeping Kyprioth from Alanna.

There was a knock at the door and a tall, lanky figure in a black cloak sauntered in, tired. "Ah, Alanna! George, hello again. I apologize for not riding with you, I had to see things at the tower before leaving the housekeeping to Francesca—very pretty, but a little on the ignorant side. You haven't told her yet, have you?"

He eyed the baron, who silently shook his head. Alanna watched this exchange and raised her eyebrow. "Well, are either of you planning to tell me? Before my patience runs out, please, the storm alone already irritates me."

Numair Salmalin—formerly Arram Draper—grinned. "Well, my dear, some very distressing news for you, if you'd like. It seems the gods are concocting another one of those 'meddling in the affairs of mortals' plots. I'm no Seer, and I'm surprised the Great Mother has not warned you beforehand, but, well…with certain sources…"

"Thom," Alanna spoke matter-of-factly, guessing the truth. "When were you going to tell me you still speak to my dead brother?"

"Demi-god of a brother," Numair corrected. "And he really would love to chat with you sometime, but unfortunately, he's gotten limited to one sorcerer for now, and we both know his time is better spent helping me with my studies."

The lady knight rolled her eyes. The room's occupants looked quickly to the direction of the balcony window, which was now shaking with tremendous force. With an angered flick, Alanna's purple Gift covered the balcony and ceased the window's trembling. "Better. You were saying?"

"Well, as it were, the gods are doing some sort of contest," there was a slight pause before Numair continued. "There seems to have been an argument between Shakith and Mynoss about which of their Chosen is the more superior. And before they knew it, it became an argument between multiple gods."

Before, Alanna had been glaring. Now, she was stunned. "Wait…are they allowed to do that?"

"It seems so," George replied, now feigning interest in Alanna's shield magic. He did not want to tell her that her Goddess had also taken part in the banter.

Aren't you glad I actually didn't enter you now, Chosen?

The baron grimaced. Knowing you, Trickster, there's a wager in it. Why join in the fun when you can reap the benefits helping others win for your sport?

George knew he was right when he got a chuckle in reply. He hadn't been listening to the rest of the conversation, but he clearly heard Alanna's intake of breath and screams of "WHAT?!"

"Didn't they have their fun last year?!" the lady knight cried out. "Goddess, what on earth…?"

Numair looked up at George. "This is why I asked you to ease her nerves a bit before I got here."

"I don't think anythin' could placate her after what you've just said, mind," George replied.

"So what happens next?" Alanna asked, exasperated. Clearly she couldn't do a thing when the gods themselves are making the trouble. "Do we just sit and wait? Or perhaps even yell at the gods for being so thickheaded and selfish?"

The sorcerer shrugged. "The storm will end soon. I believe it's just their cover for what they're really doing."

"What do you—"

The Lioness' sentence was never finished. The windows had opened with a loud crash, unsealing Alanna's Gift and shaking the Swoop. The lady knight grabbed onto George, who'd stumbled from the quake. Once the shaking stopped, all three hurried to the balcony.

"What in the mortal realms…?"

"I'm afraid, Alanna, that we aren't in the mortal realms any longer," Numair told her calmly.

She wished, not for the first time, that Numair Salmalin wasn't right.