Pool of Radiance

EPILOGUE

“You realize your name doesn’t fit you anymore, don’t you?” asked Shal.

Why? Because I no longer glow blue? I told you, I don’t distinguish colors, so it doesn’t matter.

“Well, it matters to me. I think Mulberry would be an appropriate name.”

Mulberry? Cerulean hunkered his head down and plastered his ears tight beside his forelock. Mulberry?

“It’s a little less pretentious, don’t you think?” Shal pursued.

A lot less pretentious. Milbert or Herbert would put me in the same arena.

“Now, now. Mulberry’s a beautiful color, and a splendid name. And if you’re good, I won’t even call you Mully for short.”

Mully? Gads! Ugh! Kill me first. That’s a cheap and dirty way of getting me to agree to the name Mulberry….

“Oh, good, you like it! Then it’s settled.”

Shal reined “Mulberry” up to the hitching post before the seamstress’s shop and dismounted. Before she was up the stairs, the spry woman was at the doorway.

“Your leathers could stand a little mendin’, miss,” she said critically.

Shal looked down at the velvety chimera-skin garments. They were so comfortable, she hardly remembered she had them on. “I guess they could at that, but actually I’m here about something else. I’ve been meaning to bring you something—a gift—ever since you sent me that beautiful nightgown. You can’t imagine what it did to lift my spirits.”

The woman cocked her head back almost to her back and broke out in unrestrained laughter. “Lass, you’re more naive than I took you for! Sure as I’d love to give each and every customer a free garment, I’d not be in business long if I did that, now, would I?”

“You mean you didn’t—?”

“No. ’Twas the lad that brought you, that young cleric fellow who had to be reminded to keep his eyes in his head. Truth is, he’s got me makin’ somethin’ else for you right now. I asked him to get you here for a fitting, but he said it’d have to wait until you were ready. Well, as far as I’m concerned, this’d be as good a time as any. What do you think?”

Shal stood in open-mouthed astonishment. She might never have answered if her familiar hadn’t nudged her from behind. What are you waiting for, Mistress?

“Tarl? Tarl had you make that nightgown? I never … I never …”

“Never suspected? Now you’re puttin’ on a show, miss! Get in here and try on this wedding gown before the price of lace goes up. I daresay it’ll take a few yards to do you.”

Shal stood motionless for a minute, and then waltzed up the stairs. “Take as many yards as you need! I’m not getting any smaller, you know!”