Pool of Twilight - James M. Ward [28]
Others might have quit, given up. But she had been granted a chance to live again, and she did not intend to throw away such an opportunity. Realizing the perilous nature of the magical pools that were concealed throughout Faerun, she had vowed never to rest until she found and destroyed them all. She had begun her magical studies anew. This time she had not sought power only for power's sake, but instead to combat the force of the pools. Over the course of the last thirty years, she had destroyed more than a dozen of the treacherous pools. Even so, her quest was far from over, if ever it truly would be.
Now she tended to the steaming caldron, adding a few more odds and ends from the numerous pouches strung along her belt. In her concentration, she did not hear the faint crackling of leaves in the trees behind her.
A pair of golden eyes gazed at the woman from the shadows of the forest. A lithe, tawny shape slunk between the trees, drawing closer to the glade. A stray beam of amber sunlight filtered its way through the branches above, briefly illuminating the stalker. It was a great cat, its muscles rippling under its smooth pelt. A beautiful creature, its buff-colored fur turned to a rich brown around its paws, muzzle, and the tip of its tail. Its eyes winking like green-gold gems, the cat's long whiskers twitched in anticipation. Its sensitive nose had caught the scent of the woman in the glade. A low rumble vibrated deep in the cat's throat.
The great cat padded to the edge of the clearing. The woman was no more than a dozen paces away, her attention focused on the fire. The feline's mouth opened slightly, revealing two stilettolike canines. It extended its razor-sharp claws as it crouched down, tail swishing, ready to pounce. It watched its prey, calculating the force necessary to land directly on the woman's back, and then-
"I know you're there, Gamaliel," the sorceress said in an amused voice. "I can feel your hot breath on the back of my neck."
With a groan, the great cat flopped down onto the leaves.
You're no fun, Evaine, the cat's pompous voice spoke inside the sorceress's mind.
"On the contrary," Evaine replied smugly as she turned around, "I think I'm heaps of fun."
She scratched the dejected-looking cat behind the ears. Gamaliel managed to resist her efforts for several seconds before desire got the better of him. He let out a deep, rumbling purr of pleasure, then rolled over, paws in the air.
"Let me guess," the sorceress mused. "I'm supposed to rub your tummy, is that it?"
Oh, wise wizard! came the reply. Your amazing powers of deduction truly astound me. Surely no other mage in Faerun can possess the intuition to rival your own!
"Flattery will get you everywhere, Gam," Evaine laughed. She began digging her fingers into the thick pelt covering the cat's chest. Gamaliel's green eyes closed until they were thin, gleaming slits. He began purring like an oversized kitten, which was pretty much what he looked like at the moment.
However, Evaine knew that looks could be deceiving. Over the years, the claws safely sheathed in Gamaliel's big, soft paws had ripped the life from countless enemies. Evaine had never met a warrior more ferocious or more deadly in battle than her great cat companion, and she rather doubted she ever would. Still, right now he was looking awfully cute-and somewhat silly. His rough, pink tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth.
I never look silly, came the testy reply to her thoughts.
The great cat was Evaine's familiar, so of course her mind and his were inextricably linked. Her first familiar, a snowy white owl, had died long years ago, during one of her quests to vanquish a magical pool. That had been a devastating