The Radiant Dragon tcc-4

by Elaine Cunningham

  Teldin instinctively recoiled from the plan. He was not ready to commit to the elven cause, and he feared that walking into their command center would take this choice out of his hands. With a surge of relief he remembered Hectate and the uncanny knowledge the half-elf had of star charts and navigation. He was sure Hectate could provide the needed answers, but he wasn't about to announce his decision to a room full of elves.

  After a long, typically elven discussion, it was decided that nothing more could be accomplished. Queen Amlauril suggested that they break so that Teldin Moore could rest until time for the evening meal. The exhausted Teldin followed an elven aide out of the chamber, feeling as though he were wading through swamp water.

  The elf showed Teldin to a guest chamber. His peripheral vision suggested that the room was sumptuously appointed, but his fading attention was focused solely on the bed. Preparing to flop into exhausted slumber, he pulled back the bright silk coverlet and recoiled in surprise. The bed, which had looked solid enough when draped, was a thin mattress that floated roughly three feet from the floor. A childhood image from his grandfather's stories popped unbidden into his mind, a tale of a magic mat that would bear the rider to magical destinations. For all he knew, he could wake up from his nap to find himself in Vallus's Myth Drannor.

  He was still debating whether or not to chance sleep when a knock sounded on his door. At his summons Vallus came into the room. "Am I interrupting your rest?"

  Teldin cast a rueful glance toward the bed. "I doubt I could sleep on that thing."

  The wizard laughed. "They bear some getting used to. If you're not going to sleep, perhaps we could take a walk before eveningfeast? The palace gardens are lovely."

  Despite his fatigue, Teldin agreed. He and the elf made their way through a bizarre garden maze fashioned of tall blue hedges. Vallus watched him with amused understanding as Teldin plucked a tiny leaf from the hedge, crushed it between his fingers, and sniffed. The plant yielded a spicy fragrance not unlike the pines of Krynn.

  The garden into which they emerged was just as unusual. Tiny bell-like flowers actually tinkled, playing intricate music that responded with the shifting afternoon breezes. Teldin assumed it was springtime in Evermeet, because several small ponds were ringed with flowering trees. The flowers were being pushed aside by the newly budded blue leaves, and fallen petals foamed at the shores of the ponds. At the far side of the garden, happily snacking on the rare foliage, were Chirp and Trivit. Teldin wondered idly what blue leaves tasted like, and what color they might turn in autumn.

  Vallus stopped under the azure shade of a tree and pointed to a small knothole. "Look in there and tell me what you see."

  Puzzled, Teldin stepped up and squinted into the hole. A tiny blue frog stared back at him with bulging yellow eyes.

  "That's a zenthian tree frog," the elf explained, its life span comprises a single day. A minute to you, the time in which you might pull on your boots or kiss your lady, marks the frog's lifespan from hatchling to adult. How well can you understand this frog, or it you?"

  Teldin thought this over silently. Sifting an experience through centuries of life would give elves a very different perspective. Once Vallus had said something like…

  Vallus.

  A thought that had been struggling to gain form all day finally came together with jarring clarity.

  "What is it, Teldin Moore?" the elf asked softly.

  "You're a wizard and a scholar. Is the elven philosophy about the Broken Sphere so obscure that you've never heard of it?" he demanded.

  Vallus met his gaze squarely. "No. It is widely known."

  Teldin pressed his lips firmly together to keep from screaming with frustration. "If you knew the elves of Evermeet couldn't help me, why did you bring me here?"

  Instead of responding immediately, the wizard locked his arm with Teldin's and drew the human through a gate. The garden beyond was steeply terraced, providing a view of the elven city, the dock area, and the sea beyond. Several levels down Teldin saw a cluster of elven children at play. Their bright clothes fluttered as they ran, and their happy laughter drifted upward. Some of Teldin's anger ebbed, and he thought of his own childhood and wondered what effect it would have on a person to have that magic era extended for years, perhaps decades.

  Vallus allowed him several quiet moments. "Evermeet is a thriving, vital elven society. I wanted you to see elves as we see ourselves. Perhaps I was being naive, but I hoped this would seduce you to the elven side." The wizard cast a wry, almost wistful smile at Teldin.

  Teldin was touched by the elf's admission, but his answering smile was a little uncertain. "I haven't decided yet."

  "There is still time before you must make your decision," Vallus said. "At the moment, though, we should return to the palace. The evening meal is traditionally served at birdsong- the time of day just before twilight, when the birds begin their evening songs."

  So I still have time? echoed Teldin silently. There was a strange undertone in Vallus's voice that suggested that this time might have its limits. He tucked that question away with the rest of his doubts.

  Oblivious to Teldin's speculation, Vallus said almost gaily, "Come on. Whatever else you may think about elves, after tonight you'll know beyond doubt that we can throw a party."

  Chapter Nine

  In the unlikely guise of a hummingbird, Celestial Nightpearl darted around the palace garden like a nervous, multicolored gemstone. The Other was close at hand; she could sense his presence and every now and then she could feel the storm of confusion that was his mind. She was beginning to despair, however, of ever focusing in on any one creature on this island cluttered with elves and disconcerting blue plants.

  A duet of high, piping giggles drew her attention, and she whizzed around a stand of flowering bushes to investigate. Her tiny black eyes settled on a pair of dracons, two males just entering adolescence. Finally, she thought with a surge of relief, some creatures she could understand!

  "Try this one next," offered the pale green dracon, handing his fellow a branch lush with blue leaves and pale orange flowers. "It's a bit odd, but on the whole extremely palatable."

  The other dracon, a mottled green one with overly dainty mannerisms, accepted the plant and took a discriminating nibble. The first dracon absently stuffed his mouth with the rare foliage, looking around the garden for his next course. Suddenly his reptilian eyes bulged with excitement, and his long neck craned in the direction of the garden maze. "See those two people? Isn't that Captain Teldin Moore?" he asked through a mouthful of blue leaves.

  "Trivit! How could you not know such a thing! Of course it is," huffed the dark green dracon. He popped a flower into his mouth and chewed, a meditative expression on his green face. "At least, I'm almost certain one of them is," he qualified.

  "Oh? And which one would that be, my dear Chirp?" Trivit asked in a snide tone.

  Chirp leaned forward and squinted hard enough to distort his entire face. Finally he gave up and rolled his eyes with exasperation. "Well, all right, I'll admit it. I can't tell them apart at this distance. Why these two-legged beings set such store by the tiniest differences is beyond my grasp."

  "Oh, I suppose the differences are there to see, if one looks closely enough," Trivit said thoughtfully. "For example, upon close study, one can separate males from females."

  "You can tell?" Chirp marveled, pantomiming goggle-eyed shock. "I never could. It always seemed to me that the sex of a human was discernable-or of interest-only to another human."

  The dracons shared a companionable giggle, then sudden mortification overtook the paler creature. "Chirp, we forget ourselves. It is unseemly to make our kaba the subject of so coarse a jest."

  High leader, eh? mused the hummingbird. A human named Teldin Moore was a dracon clan leader? She absently took a sip from a red trumpet flower as she weighed the possibilities. An Other certainly would be in a position of leadership. The hummingbird swooped in closer, hoping to hear more, and one o
f the distracted dracons batted her away as if she were a pesky fly. Celestial Nightpearl, venerable radiant dragon, barely dodged an offhanded swipe that would have reduced her to pulp and feathers had she been a real hummingbird.

  "Wait! I know! Captain Teldin Moore is the taller one, the one with the cloak," Chirp said triumphantly.

  To test this theory, the disguised dragon sent her thoughts out through the seeking magic of the pendant, which was now little more than a speck of gold and blue against the tiny ruby feathers of her throat. Yes, the human male was the Other she sought, and the dark cloak that surrounded him with magic was the twin to her own pendant.

  "Do you think the kaba will join forces with the Imperial Fleet?" Chirp asked. Suddenly alert, the hummingbird listened intently for the other dracon's response. She had sensed uppermost in the human's mind his deep preoccupation with the elves. It would appear that she might have a rival.

  "I should think not," Trivit returned thoughtfully. "He has his own affairs to consider, after all. Fighting a war, no matter how entertaining that might be, certainly would not further his search for the Broken Sphere."

  "Ah, yes." The dark dracon sighed lustily. "Just think of it! A grand quest! A true adventure!"

  So the human had not yet found the great ship. If he truly was looking for the Broken Sphere, he was farther off track that she'd dared to hope. Celestial Nightpearl smirked, a satisfying response even if it did not register on her hummingbird anatomy. Let the elves trot out their best threats and blandishments. She had a bargaining chip that the human Other could not resist.

  Still, it never hurt to fight a battle on two fronts, she mused as she pondered her next step.

  "You know, there is one thing about our kaba that concerns me," Trivit said thoughtfully. "He apparently is without a consort, and he's unlikely to find one on a journey into deep space. If the line of clan succession is to be assured, we must remedy this situation as soon as possible. And taking the short view of the matter, his solitary state is not healthy or natural, even for a human."

  Chirp's face drooped into an expression of glum agreement. "I know whereof you speak. For that matter, it would do our own constitutions a world of good to meet some lusty green wenches."

  The dracons shared a manly soprano chuckle and a few knowing nudges. Their posturing, absurd though it might be, gave Celestial Nightpearl an amusing idea. A burst of silent, sardonic laughter shook her tiny frame, sending her crashing into a flower-covered trellis. She staggered out of a large blossom, dazed and dusted with pollen. As she flew off unsteadily toward the privacy of a nearby grape arbor, she admonished herself to be more careful. Flight in wildspace was one thing: serene, majestic, powerful, and faster than lesser creatures could begin to comprehend. The obstacle course provided by this cluttered little world made flight another matter altogether.

  Perching on a blade of blue grass, the hummingbird beat her tiny wings for balance as she brought to mind the name, face, and form she wished to assume. Her new identity would be perfect, as well as vastly entertaining.

  The transformation came easily. She had seen the creature depicted in an ancient, illuminated manuscript of dragon legend. From the perspective of a radiant dragon, there was not that much difference, after all, between a hummingbird and an elf. Her shapechanging was accomplished in moments, and Celestial Nightpearl stood upright on two booted feet.

  She examined her new hands, pale and slender and without ornament, the nails blunt and the palms hard with calluses. An assortment of well-used weapons hung about her person, and thick braids of ebony hair brushed the back of her knees. Granted, the adventurer's drab leathers were a far cry from the jeweled feathers of a hummingbird, but she'd learn to adapt. At least, she mused with a half-smile, her new name continued the avian theme.

  As Raven Stormwalker, the radiant dragon strode through the palace gardens toward the dracons. The Little Ones, for all their clannishness and odd, militaristic ways, could prove to be valuable allies. They would help her on the strength of her new identity alone, but "Raven" thought she might clue them in on her real identity as well. Dracons had a proper and most satisfying reverence for dragons. A little adulation would be a pleasant side benefit, and with all she'd gone through recently, she certainly deserved a treat.

  The look of awe on the dracons' faces brought a gratified smile to her true dragon's visage. At last, things were starting to work out as they should.

  The silver sea around Evermeet was stained with sunrise pink by the time Vallus Leafbower brought his charge back to the Trumpeter. On the whole, the elf thought, the trip had gone well. The moon elves had been gracious and welcoming, the festive dinner and the starlit dance that followed an unrestrained and joyful celebration of elven life, such as humans seldom saw. Although Teldin Moore had been enthralled by it all, he doubtlessly was feeling a bit overwhelmed. He had spoken but little since the diplomatic litter had left the palace.

  Perhaps Teldin's silence was a good sign, Vallus thought. At least the man was no longer taking refuge behind sarcasm. Vallus was fairly confident that, in time, Teldin would come around to the elven side. The man had not seemed upset when informed that the dracons had preceded them back to the Trumpeter, and he made no further mention of his plan to take "his" crew members out looking for a new ship.

  As they strode across the dock to the swan ship, Vallus decided to test the strength of his perceptions. "Shore leave ends at daybreak. We'll take off as soon as the last of the crew boards, if that's acceptable," he said in a deferential tone.

  His manner took the distracted human by surprise. "You're asking me?"

  "But of course."

  Vallus removed an odd-shaped silver insignia from his tabard and held it out to Teldin. The elf knew that Teldin's cloak could translate spoken communications, and he was counting on its ability to transmute the meaning of the elven rune. Judging by the way the human's blue eyes widened as he stared at the captain's insignia, the cloak had done its job.

  "This is yours," Vallus said simply. "As I have said, the swan ship is at your disposal. Matters would be simpler all around if you were the actual as well as the de facto captain."

  Since Teldin continued to eye the emblem with suspicion, Vallus added, "In case you're worried, wearing the insignia will in no way be construed as a commitment to the elven navy. The insignia merely identifies you as captain, and it is specific to this particular ship."

  After a moment of hesitation, Teldin Moore's face firmed with resolve and he took up the insignia. He pushed back the cloak and pinned the captain's emblem onto the left shoulder of his jacket. He met Vallus's gaze squarely. "Let's get this ship underway, then."

  "Aye, Captain," Vallus agreed mildly. As the elf followed the new captain up the plank to the main deck, he had to call upon the discipline earned through centuries of rigorous training to keep from shouting out loud with elation.

  The red rim of the sun was just breaking above the surface of the water as Teldin and Vallus walked onto the deck, and the swan ship was alive with a bustle of activity as the elves prepared for departure.

  "As soon as you give the order, we can take flight. The crew has been instructed to set course directly for Lionheart," Vallus explained helpfully. Teldin stopped abruptly, and the elf raised his hands in a mildly defensive gesture. "I thought the matter had been decided," Vallus said.

  "Not as far as I'm concerned," Teldin replied. His sudden ire melted under the elf s mild, earnest gaze, and he raked a hand through his hair and swallowed his frustration. Vallus Leafbower obviously was doing all he could to help, and from the elven wizard's perspective Lionheart was the best way to go. The elf didn't have a clue why that idea might bother Teldin.

  "Look, Vallus, I trust you about as much as I do anyone, but I'm not sure that walking into the elven stronghold would be a wise move. Too many people want this cloak too badly. If some group of elves in Lionheart decided to take it, there isn't much I could do to stop them."

  "I see
," Vallus said slowly. Teldin noticed that the elf did not bother to contradict him. "I take it you have an alternate plan?"

  "Well, almost," Teldin said with a wry smile. Out of the corner of his eye. he saw Gaston Willowmere, the ship's first mate. He quickly flipped aside his cloak so that the captain's insignia was prominently displayed, then he caught the first mate's arm as he rushed past.

  Gaston did a double take at the sight of the emblem on a human's chest, but he quickly pulled himself up and snapped off a salute. "Aye, Captain?"

  "Take off as scheduled and follow the course you were given until you hear from me otherwise," Teldin said crisply. "Oh, and one more thing," he added as the elf started to turn away. "Find Hectate Kir and send him to the bridge immediately."

  The first mate saluted again and hurried off to tend to his orders. A high, piping signal floated out over the deck, and everywhere the crew members braced for takeoff. The swan ship lifted smoothly out of the Evermeet harbor and rose into the morning sky.

  Vallus arched a silver eyebrow. In response to the silent inquiry, Teldin said sternly, "If I'm to be the captain of this ship, there's one thing you're going to have to do."

  "Oh?" the elf replied. His angular face showed a touch of apprehension.

  Teldin's scowl collapsed into a teasing grin. "You're going to have to show me where the bridge is," he said.

  Working quickly, K'tide's informant slipped his latest message into one of the tiny, specially designed boxes he'd been given. Since coming aboard the swan ship, he'd had second thoughts about his assignment and he'd been less than faithful about sending them regularly, but this one he sent the moment the swan ship broke free of Toril's atmosphere. He spoke the words that activated the magical tracking device, then tossed the box into a refuse barrel.

  His lowly work assignment brought him hours of tedium, but it also gave him access to the ship's cargo doors. He jettisoned the barrel and two others and watched them tumble out into wildspace. Reaching into a pocket, he took out a small, specialized looking glass and squinted out at the barrels. Sure enough, one of them gave off a pulsing, greenish light that would easily be detected by the crew of the shrike ship that shadowed Teldin Moore. The thought of those proud beings sorting through the elves' garbage for their message brought a tight smile to the informant's lips. Not taking any particular precaution-no one who saw him perform this "duty" would spare him a second glance-he turned and made his way to his quarters.