By the gods, I hate these puny humans, the erinyes thought to itself. It added a few centuries to the tortures it planned for the pit fiend.
“You are right, my dear,” Marcus purred, looking down at the demure winged creature.
The wizard truly enjoyed dominating this feminine creature. He would have to thank Tanetal for this gift. The erinyes was so understanding, so giving of all its talents. The wings were a wonderful bonus; so soft to the touch, so delicious. Briefly, Marcus considered having his pit fiend summon a few more of these creatures. He leered as he pictured himself among a bevy of such beauties, then turned to the erinyes.
“Let’s get on with more interesting matters, shall we?” Marcus smiled down and reached out.
The erinyes smiled back at him and stretched out delicate ivory hands capable of ripping him limb from limb. It forced control upon itself so as not to attack this idiot, not yet anyway. It allowed itself to be led across the room. The tower shook again, this time more violently.
“That’s enough!” the wizard shouted. He hated inter ruptions. “There is only so much I can put up with.” The wizard marched toward the upper floors of the tower, leaving an uninterested erinyes behind. Marcus’s body began to glow red with the many protective spells he cast on himself. It simply wouldn’t serve his purposes to seem less than awesome in front of his pit fiend.
The erinyes watched the scrawny wizard leave and was pleased. It could barely sense the greater fiend above in the spellcasting chamber. It knew something powerful must have attacked the pit fiend, even if Marcus was too dim to realize it. It didn’t want to be nearby when Tanetal and Marcus had their discussion.
The erinyes amused itself by magically destroying the wizard’s bed, the vials of oil and glowing candles it had summoned for the pleasure of the stupid man. It could always create more. It half wished this wizard were a little more inventive; he might actually be fun if he weren’t such a bore. Humans were so dull in all of their activities and always did things the same way. Sighing, the erinyes fluttered back to its alcove to doze and wait for another summoning.
Marcus sputtered as he levitated up the secret stairs leading to a hidden door in the spellcasting chamber. The power the fiend had given him made him almost twice as powerful as before. He inventoried the spells of protection surrounding his body and was pleased to see that all were functioning with full effect. Six different spells created a red aura about him. His skin reflected a lovely shade of crimson. His flesh was as hard as stone.
The wizard’s mood improved slightly. “Yes,” the wizard sighed, “everything is going perfectly. Maybe I should ask Tanetal to enhance my physical power. I think the erinyes might be even more impressed with my physique.”
Marcus unlocked the secret door, his spells bathing the chamber in red light. The fiend was on its knees, surrounded by a ring of huge, charred black diamonds. The spellcasting chamber was in ruins.
“Look what you’ve done to this place! There are holes in two walls, there’s a pit in the floor, and what in the world is that white goop on the wall over there?” Marcus seethed at the gigantic beast.
The fiend slowly lifted its head to glare at the human. This wizard had summoned the fiend to his plane and held it by its true name. The greater fiend was bound by magic to do what the Red Wizard commanded. But what was left unsaid by the sorcerer allowed the fiend to do a great deal else on its own.
“I have spoken directly with Bane. Such communication is not without its risks. The god is not pleased with us. Latenat!”
“Not pleased?” Marcus said, backing up and licking his lips nervously. “Well, uh, we must do something at once. What shall we do? How can we make Bane the Glorious smile on us?”
“I think,” the fiend said as it rose, “we must send the people of Phlan into the pool of darkness. Then we will be all right. How are the war plans? Remember, I am to be the guardian of this tower and you are to command the forces attacking Phlan. This was your idea, because you thought you could easily handle the defenders of Phlan. Latenat!” The fiend sounded as if it questioned Marcus’s abilities.
“Of course I remember,” the wizard snapped, staring at the white blaze marks on his chamber wall. “I have given the orders for the second attack and I go now to lead it. There shall be no problems, no problems at all.”
“For both our sakes, I hope you are right. Latenat!”
Wizardly Eye
Dusk. It was coming early, as it had been for several weeks. Despite the moist warmth of the spring air, the early nightfalls gave the feeling of approaching winter. The days should have been lengthening as summer approached. But the weather was just plain odd, and no one could figure out why.
The woman in the woods noticed it too. She gritted her teeth as she observed the lengthening shadows. Looking to the overcast sky, she calculated the time until sunset, then returned to her work in earnest.
“Come on, catch! C’mon …” Sparks flew from the flint and steel, into the tinder she had gathered. The woman puffed gently on the sparks, cupping her hands around the weeds to keep out the wind. Another puff brought a smolder, a crackle—and a bright flame. A few more twigs crisscrossed over the grass would do the trick—soon the campfire crackled and popped at the dry pine branches and logs. The woman leaned back with a sigh, basking in the warmth on her face.
She could have easily flicked a finger and produced a steady, hot flame at the end of a digit, but the woman preferred to conquer nature by human means whenever she could. Like many wizards, she was neither strong nor muscular. She knew the limits of her physical strength, and practiced using her mundane talents to their best advantage.
The sorceress checked the pile of wood she had gathered, reassured there was enough to last the night. With darkness setting in so early, the only intelligent action was to make camp just as early. Getting caught in the forest in the dark without food, water, or firewood was downright dangerous. Although it cut the day’s travel short, stopping early to set up camp had been the only sensible thing to do.
The woman turned and sat on a fallen tree. She scanned the woods for a sign of her companion, but all was quiet. “Gamaliel, where are you?” she asked softly. She knew better than to shout in an unfamiliar forest, possibly alerting an enemy or wild animal to her position. As usual, she would just have to wait until he returned. Gamaliel was her best friend, but he could be infuriating. She was getting tired of his habit of running off into the woods, leaving her to set up camp. There was work to be done, and she was annoyed at being left with all the chores while he was having fun doing gods-knew-what.
The sorceress swept her waist-length hair forward over her shoulder and began pulling out the burrs, bits of grass, and leaf fragments that had collected there during her trek through the woods. The fire hissed and simmered at her feet, and for the first time all day, she began to relax.
Normally, the woman braided her hair every morning, to avoid such a tangle. “Those blasted goblins,” she muttered as she tugged at a stubborn knot in her hair. “If they could have waited twenty minutes to attack this morning, I wouldn’t be having this problem.” She sighed. “But I guess I should be glad that my hair is the only thing that’s a mess, and not the rest of me. Or Gamaliel.”
The attack had come at dawn. A band of goblins returning to their lair had cut short her morning routine. There had been only nine goblins, and a quick choice of spells, coupled with Gamaliel’s attacks, had dispatched them easily. They both escaped without injury, but that incident had set the tone for the entire day. Monsters seemed to be leaping out from behind every tree, eager to make a quick snack of the sorceress and her companion. She encountered more creatures this single day than she had the entire previous week. Oh, well, maybe that meant her quota was filled.…
The sorceress added more wood to the campfire. She scowled at the darkening sky, then swung her hair over her other shoulder, continuing to pull out bits of debris. Her hair shone red in the firelight, redder than usual. I
t was a deep, rich color, not exactly brown, yet not bright red either. It was a mixture of amber and rusty shades, and always looked different depending on the light. It nearly glowed in the light of the fire.
The flames of the campfire grew brighter and crackled louder. The woman relaxed further. Her hair was nearly done. The fire would soon be ready to cook supper. After cooking, she could collapse into her bedroll. What a day it had been. The fire warmed her sore muscles and lulled her tired mind.
The crackling fire was enough to obscure the sound of leaves rustling in the brush behind the sorceress. A great cat had made its way to the clearing and made no other sound as it watched her. It sat back on muscled haunches, eyes wide, contemplating its next move. The cat sniffed the air.
The animal crept soundlessly to the edge of the small clearing and stopped. Tawny fur glowed golden in the firelight, and green eyes stared at the woman’s silhouette against the blaze. The murky daylight was nearly gone except for a pink smear on the horizon. The cat circled the clearing until it was behind its prey.
The huge feline was in position. It silently dug its back claws into the earth, twitched its haunches, and flared its nostrils. In the span of less than a heartbeat, it was airborne. Over two hundred pounds of feline launched through the air without the sorceress ever hearing a warning.
The next thing the woman felt was a great thud against her back and the whump of her chest hitting the ground. It nearly knocked the wind out of her, but her instincts drove her to roll quickly to face her attacker. She saw white fangs and piercing green eyes, felt the cat’s hot breath on her face. She gasped for air, then spit out the words as fast as she could find them.
“Will you cut that out? How many times have I told you not to pounce on me like that? By the gods, one of these days, Gamaliel …” She propped herself up on her elbows, removing an enormous paw from her chest. The cat leaned in, touching his damp, pink nose to the sorceress’s cheek. He purred at a volume the woman found both ridiculous and infuriating.
“You are such a … a … a cat!” Undaunted, the huge feline rolled off his mistress and lay on his side in the grass, exposing the ivory fur on his belly. Stretched out, he was longer than the woman was tall. He touched her lightly with a paw.
“Oh, so now you want your tummy rubbed. I don’t know why I put up with you sometimes.” Although she ought to ignore the cat, her hand automatically moved to his great chest and began rubbing. The cat rolled onto his back, still purring at a tremendous volume. He stretched, then relaxed, four paws flopping in all directions. The woman laughed at the sight. He lay with his ivory belly exposed, his dark brown paws hanging limply. A bright pink nose shone from his deep brown muzzle. The heavy gold chain with the jade pendant around the animal’s neck accented the richness of his fur. The sorceress thought he was a beautiful cat, with his tawny body and dark brown ears, face, tail, and paws.
“All right, you ferocious beast. You’ve had your fun. Time for supper. I’ll set up the bedroll, and you can find us some dinner.” The cat lay motionless, blinked, then flipped over and stood. “And Gamaliel, we’ve had fish the last four nights. Do you think you could find us a nice rabbit or something for a change?”
The cat stared at his mistress as if offended. His words found their way to her mind. If you’re dissatisfied with my hunting, mighty sorceress, perhaps you’d like to provide us with some dinner. I’d like to see you hunt in the dark. Besides, I happen to like fish. The cat turned his head and sniffed at the breeze.
The sorceress leaned over and scratched the cat between the ears. “You know I’m not complaining about your hunting. We’ve never gone hungry, even in the barest climes. But if it were up to you, we’d have fish for breakfast, fish for lunch, and more fish for dinner. We humans like a little variety. So how about a change of pace? I think you owe me after that prank of yours. I just combed all the twigs out of my hair, and now I have to start over again, thanks to you.”
The cat looked at his mistress as if she had just asked for dragon steaks. His thoughts reached her again. Oh, all right, Evaine. Meat it is. I’ll do it, if you’ll stop your whining.
“My whining?” she choked. “You’re the biggest baby on four paws.” She slapped his flank lightly, then added, “Okay, Gam, see what you can find for us. I’m getting hungry. The fire should be ready when you get back.” The cat rubbed his nose against Evaine’s cheek, purring, then bounded off into the growing darkness. She heard his movements in the brush for only a few moments, then all was silent as the cat began stalking.
As she spread out her bedroll on a heap of pine needles, Evaine reflected to herself that she no longer regarded her mental conversations with Gamaliel as unusual. At first, she had felt self-conscious about conversing with an animal, especially out loud. But that was several years ago. After all they had been through together, she hardly regarded Gamaliel as an animal any more. Most wizards had familiars, but few shared such an intimate bond with them. Before Gamaliel, Evaine had traveled with a small barn owl familiar that she cared for deeply, but the relationship never developed the way this one had. She and Gamaliel complemented each other and learned from one another. They had become an indivisible team. She could never imagine life without him.
Evaine added wood to the campfire, then walked the perimeter of the clearing, sprinkling a magical powder and murmuring the words of a warding spell. A pale green glow followed her in the grass, then slowly dissipated. After the day she’d had, she wasn’t taking any chances on getting ambushed in the night. If she were with more companions, they could all take turns keeping watch, but she and the cat both needed their sleep. Gamaliel’s senses were keen, and he usually detected intruders, but there was no reason to take chances.
The sorceress sat on the bedroll and pulled out her spellbook to begin studying. Her hands slid over the green leather cover. This tome was another old friend, her most prized possession. The magic contained in its pages had seen her through some tough times and had survived all kinds of dangers, from fires to dousings of water to dragon breath. She knew of wizards whose spellbooks had been destroyed, practically stripping them of their powers. Evaine shuddered at the thought of trying to survive without hers. She was lucky to have a companion like Gam, who would stick by her no matter the danger.
Evaine sometimes considered learning more mundane methods of combat, in the event that somehow she lost her magical skills. Like most wizards, she was good with a staff and a dagger, but learning the techniques of swords and axes would mean giving up the study of magic almost entirely. And Evaine always found herself on some intellectual quest. Even if she committed herself to the study of combat, her nature would force her to return to her books in no time. Magical study was too much a part of her, as if it had been woven into her soul before she was born.
Evaine took a few deep breaths, then began to concentrate. She opened her tome and started memorizing the spells. The sorceress became lost in concentration. Years of study had allowed her to focus her mind quickly and completely.
Evaine didn’t know how much time had passed before she was startled by a sound directly in front of her. She looked up, slamming the book shut, expecting an ambush.
Two gleaming eyes stared back at her.
You really should be more careful, out here alone. What if I had been a band of orcs? The cat’s message was teasing. He was obviously pleased at startling her. If cats could laugh, this one would have been howling.
“If you had been a band of ores, you’d either be lying on the ground looking like charcoal or you’d be running for the nearest stream. I’ve placed a ward around the perimeter of the clearing. And to answer your next question, you didn’t smell the magic because I’ve been working on a version of the spell that’s virtually undetectable, even by magical creatures like you. I see that it worked. So much for trying to outfox the fox, eh Gam?”
Gamaliel blinked at her, looking hurt, but Evaine had seen his practiced look too many times before. This cat was uniqu
e, all right. Ignoring his ploy, she changed the subject. “Let’s see what you brought us.”
The cat carried a small brown rabbit—and a gleaming silver trout that weighed close to twenty pounds. Both were held carefully in his huge mouth.
“Way to go, hunter. I see we have some variety on the menu tonight.” She took the rabbit from him and scratched his chin. Gamaliel carried the fish to the other side of the campfire.
She knew the answer to her next question before asking it, but posed it anyway. “Um, Gamaliel, do you want that cooked?” The cat didn’t respond, but he answered her by wordlessly starting on his dinner. She shrugged and turned to prepare the rabbit for the fire.
By the time supper was cleaned up, Gamaliel was already snoozing on the bedroll. Evaine rubbed him gently, coaxing him into making room for her. She had banked the fire into a heap of glowing coals that would provide heat the entire night but not enough light to give away their whereabouts. The bedroll was warm from the fire and the dozing cat. She crawled under the blankets, grateful for the comfort after her adventurous day. She would sleep soundly with her warding spell in place and the giant feline snoozing between her and the dark trees. If anything were going to attack her, it would have to get through her magical protection as well as two hundred pounds of muscle, claw, and fang.
A few stars flickered through the cloud cover. Evaine made a mental list of the work she and Gam would have ahead of them over the next few days. “Phlan. We’ll be in Phlan in a couple days, Gamaliel. Then we can find the pool of darkness and figure out how to destroy it.” She grimaced at the thought of another pool. Hunting the evil artifacts and destroying them had become her vocation, but each such endeavor came with its own anxiety.
Sleep cut her planning short. As Evaine drifted off, she murmured to the cat, “Afterward … maybe you and I can take a little vacation, away from monsters and evil pools.”
Pools of Darkness Page 6