Pool of Radiance

flour.

'Flour? I can guess what everything else is for, but why the flour?'

Shal reached into the final pocket and found a tiny scroll. She unfurled it and discovered a note written in Ranthor's fluid script: The Hour is there to reveal what is invisible. You should have known that, Apprentice.

'My teacher, you truly knew me too well. I wish you could meet my two new friends,' she sighed.

Shal took a deep breath and paused for a last moment to prepare mentally for the test she must pass before making her way to Denlor's tower. She wondered if perhaps Tarl and Ren might help her when-if-they returned from Sokol Keep.

She found perfect stowing places for her spell components, rods, daggers, and magical cloth on the oddly designed belt. Shal held the belt up wistfully before buckling it, aware that it might have gone around her former self twice. Now, she needed to use the last buckle hole. When she'd pulled it snug, she marveled at the fact that it was virtually weightless once it was secured. Finally she practiced drawing the Staff of Power from the magical cloth. The six-foot-tall staff looked more than a little odd coming out of the small square of indigo cloth, but it came easily to her hand every time she asked for it. She almost laughed at the thought of employing the staff or any of her magical items on real enemies. 'Yes, Ranthor, this is me, Shal-the same Shal who was afraid of a Burning Hands spell.'

Ren was already in the common room, talking with Sot, when Shal came downstairs. He bit his lip when he saw the way she'd pulled her hair back. A large copper clip lifted her auburn hair off her face, accenting her high, flushed cheekbones, without even beginning to tame the wild red tresses that raged down her back. It was not a style Tempest had ever used, but it was stunning, and it made Ren see Shal for the first time as having a beauty unique to her and not tied up in his memories. 'Good morning, Shal. You look wonderful!'

Shal blushed and smiled. 'Good morning!' Shal stopped and stood stock still at the bottom of the stairs, staring at Ren. The self-described ranger-thief, whose body had been hidden yesterday in a mangy, baggy tunic and pants held up by a drawstring, was now dressed from head to foot in body-fitting black, oiled leather. His physique was impressive, not at all that of the dumpy barkeep Shal had conversed with the day before. Whereas yesterday Ren's blond hair had been matted to his head, today it shone a honey gold, cascading smoothly to his shoulders. His blue eyes glimmered, their deep color intensified by the brilliant blue of the gemstones set in the shoulder pads of his black armor. Shal noticed, too, that concealed cleverly on his person was a veritable armory. Strategically stowed for quick access were knives, daggers, two short swords, and several devices Shal couldn't attempt to name. 'I–I hardly recognize you,' she managed to say.

'Me neither,' echoed Sot, eyeing the big man. 'Ain't he a sight, though. I guess I'll have to be puttin' up a sign for some new help around here.' His expression changed suddenly as he realized how his words might be interpreted. 'Not because you won't be coming back from the island, of course. I just mean that I… I can see you've got more important things to do with yourself than waiting on tables.'

Ren smiled and pulled out a stool for Shal from behind the bar.

Shal smiled, too, touched by Sot's obvious concern for Ren. Then she shivered suddenly. It was possible, perhaps even likely, that they would be killed. She hadn't realized that she had been avoiding the thought. She let out a slow breath and turned her mind to more immediate concerns. 'Is Tarl here yet?' she asked as she started to sit down.

'Yeah. He just went out for a minute to check on your horse,' Sot replied.

Shal slapped one hand up to her mouth. 'Cerulean! Excuse me… I should be seeing to my own horse. I'll be back in a minute.'

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 seats how men could always sit down without looking awkward, no matter how big they were.

Tarl poured her a cup of milk and offered her the biscuits.

Ren leaned forward and began to speak eagerly. 'Sot here says he had a grandfather who was doing guard duty at Sokol Keep during the time of the Dragon Run.'

Sot interrupted. 'He was a guard there at the time, but he wasn't on duty when the dragons struck.