Pool of Radiance - James M. Ward [41]
Before Shal even reached the stable, the familiar was bombarding her with snide remarks. Oh, sure, off on an adventure, and you're going to leave me cooling my heels in this pig sty. No, worse-you'd forgotten you even had a familiar, a faithful magical steed prepared to serve you regardless of the risk.…
"Cerulean, I'm sorry. I've been so wrapped up in things that I didn't even think to tell you about the trip I must make. I promise to have the innkeeper tend to you while I'm gone," Shal said as she approached the huge horse's stall.
Unnoticed by Shal, Tarl had entered the stable with a sack of corn fodder to spread in the horse's trough. "Good morning, Shal," he said, looking at her rather strangely. "Apologizing to your horse now, eh? I gathered yesterday that you were pretty chummy with him, but-"
"But he's not a horse-" Shal began.
I'm not? Cerulean's telepathic message interrupted Shal's thought.
"I mean, he is a horse, but he's more than that… Oh, I don't know what I mean! Could you… could you excuse us for a minute, Tarl?"
Tarl looked oddly at Shal once again and shrugged. Then he turned and headed slowly for the door, muttering all the while. "No problem, whatever, Shal. I don't rate even so much as a 'Good morning,' but the horse gets a moment in private with you. That's just fine," he said, obviously a little confused.
As soon as Tarl closed the door, Shal turned to face her familiar. "You can't come, Cerulean," she insisted. "We're taking a boat. We'll probably have to scale walls. There's no place to-"
No place to put me? Have you forgotten your legacy from Ranthor already? Not that I like being put in that thing, mind you. As I said before, it's awfully dark in there. But if I'm not with you, I can't possibly warn you of any danger, can I?
Shal threw up her hands. So much for feeling on top of things. How forgetful could she be? She pulled the Cloth of Many Pockets from her belt and held it out toward Cerulean. "So how do we go about this? For some reason I seem to have trouble picturing a great big horse like you jumping into one of these tiny little pockets."
Just stand back and watch!
Shal opened the stall gate and backed up against the stable wall, holding out the small piece of cloth. To her horror, the giant horse began to paw the ground, then charged toward her, its ears flat against its head and its nostrils flaring. Just as she was certain she would be smashed against the wall, Cerulean reared, dived, and poured like so much liquid into one of the pockets in the cloth.
I hate doing that. I hope you can see why now. The familiar's mental communication was muffled slightly by the cloth.
You hate it! I'm amazed Ranthor didn't die of a heart attack long ago! I hope your entrances into the outside world are a bit less dramatic. By the way, can you get out of there if I don't summon you?"
You would have to ask that. Indeed I can-as long as you don't tell me I can't.
Shal looked down at the indigo cloth as she tucked it back into place inside her belt. She was about to reply again when she realized how foolish she must look- would look-if anyone were watching her, so she decided to try her hand at telepathy. I won't tell you you can't, but rest assured that if I find you in my lap at some awkward moment, you'll be back in the dark until further notice. Understand?
Quite clear, Mistress.
And don't sneer when you say that word! Shal knew her telepathic thought hit home when the familiar, for once, didn't try to have the last word.
* * * * *
Tarl and Ren were just sitting down to breakfast with Sot when Shal came back. "Save any for me?" she asked, her appetite sparked as she entered to the smell of hot biscuits and porridge.
Sot looked on with a bemused smile as Tarl and Ren stumbled over each other to pull out a stool for Shal, but the young mage didn't even notice. She was too worried about how to seat her much-enlarged frame down gracefully on the quaint stool. She wondered as she watched Tarl and Ren resume their