Into the Void s-2

by Nigel Findley

  Teldin nodded and took another full swallow of his ale. Again he savored the mouthful, but this time to give himself time to think. There was another subject he had to broach, but he wasn't sure of the best way to do it. Rianna seemed to sense his thoughts. She drank her ale as well, silently watching him and waiting.

  "Well, we're in Rauthaven," he said finally, trying to keep his voice light and casual. "What are your plans now? Passage to-where was it?-the Tears of Selune? Another ship and back to work?"

  It was Rianna's turn to hesitate for a moment. Her lips moved silently, as though she were rehearsing words that she was uncomfortable about speaking aloud. Her hands twisted in her lap. "I suppose so," she said at last, not looking at him. "That's what I should do." She raised her eyes. Her gaze was intense. "But not yet," she went on, "not for a while. I think… If it's all right with you, I think I'd like to spend some time with you, Aldyn Brewer." She smiled-tentatively, like a child asking for a gift but not expecting it to be given.

  He met her gaze and felt for a moment as though he were drowning in the deep green ocean of her eyes. Something seemed to click in Teldin's mind. In an instant, all doubt and indecision vanished, and he knew exactly what he had to do. He stood. "Come on," he told her, taking her arm.

  She resisted for a moment. "What's the matter?" she asked quietly. "If I said something wrong, I'm sorry…."

  He cut her off with a shake of his head. "You've said nothing wrong," he told her firmly. "It's me that's said something wrong, and I have to correct that. Come on." He drew her to her feet and led her out of the tavern.

  Outside the Pig and Whistle, the street was dark, seemingly deserted. Teldin still had a grip on Rianna's arm, and he led her on, away from the main street, the Processional, away from the light spilling from inside the tavern. She didn't resist, but he could reel her confusion, her trepidation. When they were a good dagger cast from the door, sheltered by the darkness, he stopped. He put both hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. "Tell me again what you just said," he told her.

  Her gaze was steady on his face. "I think I want to spend some time with you, Aldyn Brewer," she repeated softly. There was no tremor in her voice, no trace of doubt. She said it as if she'd been stating some invariant fan of nature.

  He shook his head slowly. "You're wrong," he said quietly. "You want to spend time with Aldyn Brewer. You might not want to spend time with me." Her eyes were uncomprehending, so he pressed on. "I'm not Aldyn Brewer. My name is Teldin Moore. I'm not from Waypoint. I'm from Krynn. And…" Here he came to a halt. How could he do what had to follow? How could he show her proof of the ultimate dishonesty? He knew he had to do it-if only because he'd come this far. He took his hands from her shoulders. She must be able to run away if she wants to, he thought. "And," he started again, forcing firmness into his voice, "there's more." He closed his eyes and allowed the false face to fade away. He heard Rianna's sharply indrawn breath and opened his eyes.

  Rianna still stood before him. She hadn't backed away, but her eyes were wide and both her hands were at her mouth. He could hear her rapid breathing.

  He stood before her, arms at his side, waiting. He wasn't sure exactly what reaction he'd expected: fear, maybe, or more likely anger, but Rianna surprised him.

  Tentatively, she reached out a hand toward his face. Her fingers touched his cheek, the line of his jaw. "This is… you?" she asked, a catch in her voice. He nodded. Rianna smiled, a strained, wan smile. "Much more handsome," she murmured, almost too low for Teldin to hear.

  "I'm sorry, Rianna," he said softly. "As the gods are my witnesses, I'm sorry."

  She shook her head. Her strained smile was still in place. "I knew some of it," she said. "I knew you'd taken a false name. I knew you didn't come from Waypoint, but… this!"

  "I'm sorry," he repeated miserably. He knew he should say something else, but he couldn't figure out what.

  Rianna shook her head again. She closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. When she opened her eyes again, they were clear. She smiled, and this time it was the strong, warm smile that Teldin knew. "No," she said, her voice steady, too. "No, I'm sorry. You just… shocked me, that was all. I knew you wouldn't have taken a false identity without a good reason." She chuckled.

  "In my business, I deal with more false identities than real ones, and I've gotten to the point that I can usually pick out even the best." She prodded him in the ribs with a forefinger. "Yours was far from the best, little chum, but I wasn't going to queer your pitch. If it was necessary for you to be Aldyn Brewer, then I'd spend time with Aldyn Brewer. Did you really think it was your name I enjoyed spending time with? Your shaky stories about coming from Waypoint? Even your face? Were those the only things I was interested in? Rather superficial, wouldn't you say?" Teldin nodded in dumb amazement. "You're none of those things," she went on, "and it's you-what's underneath all the make-believe-that I'm interested in. Do you understand what I'm saying?" "I understand," he muttered.

  She reached up and grasped his shoulders. For an instant, her smile faltered. "By the gods, you even feel different."

  "Sorry," he started to say, but she hushed him peremptorily to silence.

  Her grip on his shoulders was firm. "Remember what I told you aboard ship?" she asked. Her voice was low, but it almost crackled with intensity. "About how your secrets are your most valuable, most personal, possessions?"

  "I remember."

  She released one shoulder and reached down to take his hand. "I thank you for the valuable gift you've given me, Teldin Moore," she said softly. She kissed his palm.

  Teldin stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms. Her body was warm and strong-steel under velvet-against him. He tilted his head, and her mouth was soft and welcoming. When she flung her own arms around him, the grip was almost fierce enough to squeeze the air from his body.

  When the kiss finally ended-minutes or maybe centuries later-Teldin's body felt alive, as if he'd slept for twelve hours, doused himself in frigid rainwater, then swallowed two quick shots of ice-cold sagecoarse on an empty stomach. Rianna nestled close against his chest.

  "They won't miss us if we don't go back to the ship tonight, will they?" she whispered.

  Teldin smiled. "They won't miss us."

  As one, they turned back toward the welcoming door of the Pig and Whistle.

  *****

  Teldin felt wonderful. For perhaps the first time since he'd left his farmhouse on that fateful day-how long ago was it now?-he felt relaxed and full of energy. The gods are in their heavens and all's right with the world, he told himself. The salt smell of the sea was sharp in his nostrils, and the morning breeze was brisk and bracing in his-rather, Aldyn's-and Rianna's faces. The rocking of the small tender as it breasted through the low waves, taking them back to the Probe, just added to his pleasure. He felt like singing.

  He looked at Rianna, sitting on the thwart next to him. The wind had brought even more color to her tanned cheeks. The soft skin around the bottomless sea of her eyes crinkled as she smiled at him.

  The tender bumped gently against the hammership's hull, and Teldin veritably bounded up the rope ladder, over the gunwale rail, and onto the deck. Aelfred and "Bale Estriss" were on the forecastle. The big warrior was grinning broadly. If he smiles any wider, he'll swallow his ears, Teldin thought. He snapped a jaunty salute. Aelfred's response was to give an even broader, knowing grin, and to shake his head in feigned despair. Estriss, on the other hand, beckoned to him to come up onto the forecastle.

  Teldin leaned over the rail to give Rianna a hand up. "Pay a toll to come aboard," he told her as she swung a long leg over the rail. She chuckled deep in her throat as he bent down to collect a kiss.

  "I'm going below for a while," she told him, then slipped an arm around his waist and gave him a quick squeeze. "I'll see you later… Aldyn."

  He watched her until she disappeared belowdecks, then he crossed to the port ladder and climbed to the forecastle, where Aelfred
was waiting for him.

  "You look like the canary that ate the cat," the big warrior joked. He glanced over the rail to where Rianna had disappeared. "And I can't say as I blame you."

  We were concerned about you. The illithid's mental voice was as sharp as Teldin had ever heard it.

  "… Until I told him the company you were keeping," Aelfred elaborated. He leaned forward to speak in a stage whisper: "I seem to recall a certain conversation in the officers' saloon. Estriss might not try to steal your girl, but he might not understand why you want to spend a night ashore with her either. A serious disadvantage to being sexless, eh?"

  Teldin smiled but said nothing. Even though he knew Aelfred intended no harm, he didn't feel comfortable joking about someone who he'd suddenly realized meant a lot to him. "Any word from Barrab?" he asked.

  Aelfred's expression sobered. "Not yet," he replied, "but I hear tell that our fat friend spent his night away from home, too. Meeting with his boss, I'll wager."

  "Is there anything we can do to hurry things along?"

  The warrior shook his head firmly. "Nothing. We wait."

  As it turned out, they didn't have to wait long at all. Teldin had been back on board for perhaps an houri which he'd spent in the officers' saloon, gazing out at the busy harbor, when a knock sounded and Aelfred entered. The big man was grinning like a bandit. "Message for milord Brewer," he announced, "just delivered by tender." He waited, obviously enjoying himself.

  "It worked?"

  "It worked," Aelfred confirmed. "You and two assistants are invited aboard the Nebulon-that's the arcane's ship."

  Teldin grinned. He was almost there. "Did he say where the ship was?" he asked. "Are we taking the Probe up?"

  "He didn't say where the ship was," Aelfred told him, "but it doesn't matter. Barrab's arranged a boat to take you up. Security, I suppose." The first mate grew serious. "The invitation says you may bring two people with you if you want," he said quietly. "And I suggest you do it, Teldin. I don't know why an arcane might want to set a trap for you, but if he planned to, this would be an excellent opportunity."

  Teldin nodded slowly. As Aelfred had passed on the message, similar thoughts had been running through his mind. "I agree," he said. "Aelfred, do you want to come?"

  The warrior smiled. "Just try to keep me away." He paused, then went on, "Estriss was there when I got the message and wants to come, too. I'd rather have one of my people come- Bubbo, maybe, as an intimidation factor-but…"

  Teldin paused in thought. Aelfred was leaving the decision up to him. That was probably as it should be, but he wasn't comfortable with it. He considered. He'd feel a lot happier with the reassuring bulk of Bubbo at his back, but Estriss knew more about the arcane than either he or Aelfred-probably more than anyone else aboard. That knowledge could be vital. In a flash of recall, he saw an attacker staggering back under the illithid's mental attack. There was no doubt that Estriss could take care of himself.

  For a moment Teldin considered Rianna-her company and moral support would be more than welcome-but he quickly rejected the thought. He still hadn't told her everything about the cloak-specifically, the defensive powers it had shown in battle with the neogi, and the fact that he couldn't remove it-even though the lie of omission made him feel uncomfortable, and that's what the conversation on the Nebulon would be about. On balance, he decided it would be better to limit the participants to people who already knew the whole story.

  "I'll take Estriss," he said finally.

  Aelfred nodded his acceptance. "I'll pass the word." He turned to go.

  "Where's the boat?" Teldin asked. "Alongside?"

  Aelfred grinned. "You'll see," he said cryptically.

  Chapter Twelve

  When Aelfred had used the word "boat," Teldin had pictured something like the Unquenchable's longboat, or maybe a smaller version of the hammership. It turned out to be something entirely different. He and his "assistants," Aelfred Silverhorn and "Bale Estriss," took the tender in to shore, then walked through the town and out the main gate. The "boat" was waiting for them on the wide paved road, surrounded by a flock of curious onlookers.

  It was a dragonfly, Aelfred told him. Resting on its spindly legs, it looked like a larger version of Rianna's mosquito. Like the smaller ship, it was long and slender, tapering to a sharp point astern. Unlike the mosquito, it had two sets of wings: one arcing up and back over the afterdeck, the other sweeping below and almost brushing the ground. "Minimum crew of two," Aelfred explained, "a good ship's boat."

  With Aelfred in the lead, they pushed through the throng of spectators-who, Teldin noticed, were standing a respectful distance from the strange craft-and approached the dragonfly. "Aldyn Brewer and party," the warrior called up to the deck. "Permission to come aboard?"

  "Permission granted," a voice responded from above. A rope ladder was lowered from the main deck.

  As they'd agreed beforehand, Aelfred was first up the ladder. Teldin watched the practiced ease with which the big man climbed the swaying ladder. The warrior swung himself over the rail and vanished from sight. After a few moments, he reappeared, beckoning the others to join him. "Come ahead, milord Brewer," he shouted. It had been agreed upon ahead of time that Aelfred would go aboard first. If the dragonfly was safe, he'd call down for "milord Brewer" to join him. If it was a trap-and somebody had a dagger at Aelfred's back-he'd shout down for "milord Aldyn," warning Teldin and Estriss to get away fast.

  Teldin flipped the cloak-which he'd expanded-back over his shoulders to clear his arms. He grasped the swaying ladder and began to climb. It wasn't as bad as he'd expected. He was quickly on the small boat's deck, and, equally quickly, Estriss joined him. Aelfred was forward, talking with one of the dragonfly's two crewmen. The other hauled up the rope ladder. Almost immediately the small craft was underway, lifting silently into the cloudless sky.

  Teldin wanted to lean over the rail and watch the city dropping away beneath them, but he'd decided that this wasn't appropriate for the role he was playing. "Milord Aldyn Brewer" would be used to such things. Oh, certainly, he knew he'd have to drop the pretense when he actually spoke with the arcane, but that meeting would be private if he had anything to say about it. In the meantime, he guessed that the crewmen had probably been hired by Barrab, and dropping his role in their sight would be a good way of alienating someone he might have to use again later.

  To take his mind off the view he was missing, and to prevent himself from rubbernecking like the tourist he was, he looked around for somewhere to sit. He found a small bench abaft of the small ship's single mast and seated himself.

  He tried to relax, but it was futile. Conflicting emotions warred within him. There was excitement-of course! If Estriss was right about the arcane, then in just a few hours he might be free of his burden. What then? A new life on Toril? Or on the Tears of Selune? Or maybe elsewhere in space? He forced those thoughts from his mind. There would be time for them later.

  There was also fear. Mainly, it was the fear of disappointment, of failure. What if he somehow found out that the arcane weren't the creators of the cloak? If he found himself, now, as far-perhaps farther-from the end of his quest? He had no other clues to follow, unless you counted Estriss's theories. How could creatures who'd vanished from this corner of the universe several millennia ago free him from the cloak?

  The conclusion was inescapable. He'd have to continue searching for the real creators. How long would that take? Years? Decades? His entire life? Maybe he'd never be free of the burden, free to live his own life as he wanted to live it. Maybe he'd always be controlled by the "gift" of the dead traveler, with little more real freedom than a prisoner in chains.

  That was what he feared: disappointment, yes, but so much more. He toyed with the idea of yelling to the crew to return him to the city-after all, if he didn't face the arcane, he'd never hear bad news-but knew that was just fear talking. He forced his doubts, too, and anticipation, from the front of his mind.

 
; He looked up into the sky over the swiftly rising dragonfly. From the ground, the sky had been the delicate blue of a robin's egg. Now it had darkened to a rich royal blue. He squinted and shielded his eyes from the sun. Directly overhead was a faint speck of white, barely visible in the bright sky. Was that a star? he wondered. Yes, it must be.

  It took him a moment to notice it, but the sky was darkening as he watched. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, it shaded from royal blue to a darker, navy blue, then to a rich midnight purple. As the sky darkened, the single star above grew brighter. Clearer-and somehow harder-it looked now, like a cold chip of diamond mounted in the inverted bowl of the sky. It seemed somehow nearer than any other star he'd ever seen, and it didn't seem to twinkle at all.

  He glanced at his companions. Aelfred Silverhorn had finished his conversation with the dragonfly's crew member and was leaning against the gunwale rail with Estriss. The first mate caught his glance and walked over to him. "Nice, isn't it?" the big warrior remarked. "I think this is my favorite part of spelljamming. Just wait for the stars."

  Teldin looked up again. "There's already one there," he pointed out.

  Aelfred looked up in some surprise, then he smiled.

  "That's no star," he told Teldin. "That'll be the Nebulon." As if the warrior's words had been some mystical cue, the sky faded to black and the stars came out.

  Even though he'd been on Toril for only a couple of days, Teldin was awestruck once again by the stars of space. From the ground, on a clear night, he could see what seemed like millions of stars, and they seemed crisp, bright, and immediate. But the star field from space…

  The difference was almost unbelievable. In the cool vacuum of the void, he could see myriads more stars than on the crispest night planetside. Every star seemed sharp, cold, clear… almost solid, as if he could reach out and touch one, pluck it from the heavens, and have it set in a gold ring, as you could any other gem of great value.