Umber

Glim-gar’s final gifts to Brin and Vayel. (sab)

Something small, furry, and warm climbs quickly from beneath the boot into Brin’s sleeve. Instinctively she knows that it is an old friend, one which she has missed for many years. But no – not her friend, but Svengali’s…

In her mind, she senses not words, but strong sensations, perceptions. Those perceptions quickly become nearly overwhelming as they grow to become thousands of individual images, emotions, thoughts. These are strange and distorted; everything seems large and threatening and Brin’s sense of smallness is near absolute. A shadow overhead causes a momentary feeling of panic. But there too is the sense that there is a friend around every corner, that she is part of a greater whole, one which protects not only itself but also the other small things of the world  – and then – the realization that that whole is about to go away forever.

Something heavy falls into one of her inside pockets. The mental image fades.

Goodbye –

The weasel chitters softly, simply a weasel once again.

* * *

In barely the span of a blink a small black shape (a cat?) leaps from beneath the boot into the sleeve of Vayel’s cloak. In her mind, the voice of a woman: “It’s getting near the end and I have no interest in going out quietly. I can’t beat the devil, but I can give him a scratch he’ll never forget. Let me know when you want a distraction, and my blade and I will be very distracting. In the meantime, you’ll want this. Don’t put it on the staff until after I’m dead or you don’t need me any more – once you do, I’ll be just a person once again.”

Something heavy falls into one of her inside pockets. By feel, she is sure it’s the Cat Amphora.