Pool of Radiance - James M. Ward [58]
"But I couldn't!" Shal shouted back. "I didn't know how!"
"You should have known. You should have figured it out! Now, I walk the night like the skeletons you faced today! Aaaauuuggghhh!"
Once more the shadowy figure loomed behind Ranthor. He struggled even harder to escape the confines of the ball, but the dagger stabbed out again and again. With the coiled snake insignia on the attacker's armband, it gave the doubly frightening impression of a snake striking repeatedly. The pounding of Ranthor's fists against the crystal thundered in Shal's ears, until finally silence exploded around her as his body slumped and slid down the inside of the globe like a discarded piece of clothing.
She woke to the feel of her own body flopping back and forth through no force of its own. She could feel sweat streaming down her front and back.
It was Sot who was shaking her shoulders. "I don't make a habit of entering the rooms of my guests when they're inside 'em," he explained hurriedly, "but I heard you scream, and I ran up here to see what was wrong. I pounded on the door, but you just kept screamin'."
Shal shook herself to clear her head of the nightmare. It was bitterly real. She was sure her master was still suffering, tormented like those skeletons at Sokol Keep, and it was her fault. She wanted to leave immediately for Denlor's tower, but Sot managed to quiet her down enough to convince her that she should at least wait till first light. He insisted she take several large gulps of his own house liquor. It was a powerful brew that burned all the way down with each swallow…
Shal slept till well after dawn, and there were no more nightmares. It was the grumblings of her familiar that finally woke her…. I might as well spend my time in a stable. At least I'd have oats and hay to keep me company, were the first words she actually comprehended. Each syllable seemed to echo in her brain like the clanging of a gong.
"Quiet!" Shal hissed, closing her eyes tighter.
I'm not making any noise, Mistress, retorted the familiar. To Shal, it sounded like the crash of thunder.
"Will you please shut up?" Shal shouted, then she clasped her hands to her ears to muffle the sound of her own voice.
Pardon me, but weren't you planning to go to Denlor's tower today to try to find our mast-uh, Ranthor's murderer?
Shal sat up slowly and tried through tightly squinted eyelids to see where she had left the belt with the indigo cloth. Maybe if she covered it with a pillow, the familiar's voice would be quieter inside her head. Better yet, maybe she wouldn't be able to hear it at all. But she saw neither the belt nor the cloth; instead, a horse was standing directly in her way.
Comprehension came slowly, and Shal did her best to ignore the monstrous animal as she got up to splash water on her face and prepare to face the sunshine she could see trying to sneak through the closed window hatch.
"Yes, I'm planning to go to Denlor's tower today," she finally answered. "And this will be your chance to show that you're good for something besides making wisecracks."
That's not fair! The horse stomped and whuffled agitatedly. You would have been nothing but orc fodder yesterday if I hadn't reminded you about the Staff of Power.
"You'll be orc fodder if you don't give me a chance to wake up in peace!"
Hmph! The very idea!…
"There's a deep, dark pocket just waiting for you, Cerulean."
Is that an order, Mistress?
"It will be if you don't get out of my brain-now!"
The horse hung its head and retreated to a corner of the room.
"And please, Cerulean, don't sulk! It doesn't become you at all."
The big horse lifted its head and switched its tail. Switch. Switch. Switch. He whickered quietly as he eyed the ceiling and pawed the floor gently. Not a whisper of mental communication jarred Shal's throbbing head as she carefully brushed her leathers and then took time to meditate and memorize her spells.
Much later, she ordered Cerulean into one of the pockets and took him out to the stable,