The lakshu," Vallus explained to Teldin. Assuming that the revenge-bent warrior would stay aboard the swan ship until she found what she sought, the elven wizard sent teams of heavily armed elves out to search the ship for her.
They found Viper-or what was left of her-in the cargo hold. A blast of enormous power had gone through her armor and body, leaving little more than shattered ribs and a few shards of steel and flesh. In stark contrast to her ravaged body, her beautiful, sharp-boned face was untouched. Her eyes were wide, but the fierce glare had faded with death. Beyond the hollow shell of the lakshu was a black-edged hole in the wall of the ship. Clearly visible through it were swirls of green and purple phlogiston that curled around the far side of the swan ship's air envelope.
Teldin's gut twisted at the sight, but Vallus knelt to examine the body and the damaged wall with dispassionate interest. "A spell of unusual power," he mused. "This is beyond our wizards. None could summon a spell in time to stave off a lakshu's attack. Who could have done such a thing?"
Hectate Kir could, Teldin thought with horror. He recalled the ball of force that Hectate in his bionoid form had thrown at the band of attacking elves. It would have taken something that powerful to do the type of damage they saw before them. As logical as the conclusion was, Teldin found he could not believe it. "The arcane?" he suggested weakly.
Vallus shook his head. "Not likely. The damselfly took off before the attack on the lakshu, I believe. Once the arcane realized he was unlikely to acquire either artifact, he probably saw no need to stay. I'm guessing the lakshu insisted on staying behind to seek out her revenge. She has not been long dead."
The elf rose slowly to his feet and ordered a second search. He and Teldin first questioned Raven Stormwalker, but Chirp and Trivit fervently swore that she had never left their shared cabin. Frustrated but unable to refute the dracons' claim, they carefully questioned the rest of the crew. Om noted that Estriss had gone up to speak to the arcane, so they sought out the illithid to see what light he might shed on the matter. Estriss, however, was nowhere to be found.
After much discussion, Vallus concluded that the illithid, who possessed magical abilities far beyond those of most of his kind, had killed the lakshu and gone off with the arcane. No one could fathom why. The illithid had been strangely elusive since the trip to Evermeet.
Deeply shaken by Estriss's desertion, Teldin returned to his cabin to think the matter over. He entered and stopped short; someone had been in the cabin and had left the lid of his sea chest open. Curious, he stepped closer and peered down. In the chest, next to a book he'd borrowed from Vallus several days earlier, was a small figurine.
The piece obviously was very old, and it depicted a creature fashioned on tripartite lines, holding in each of its three hands a familiar three-petaled flower. Teldin flipped over a corner of his cape and looked closely at the elusive pattern woven into the silk lining. The flowers were identical. Was this statue, obviously a souvenir of Estriss's endless hunt for the Juna, some sort of parting gift?
Teldin could not bring himself to touch the strange figurine. Feeling oddly betrayed, he swallowed hard and raked both hands through his hair. Just when he had laid to rest his doubts over Estriss's strange behavior, the illithid had left without a word.
Teldin retrieved a bottle of sagecoarse from the sea chest, then he quietly closed the lid. Filled with a sense of despairing recklessness, he went in search of his new drinking companion.
As Teldin made his way down to Raven Stormwalker's quarters, he noted that he still had no idea who or what she might be, or what she wanted from him. At the moment, that hardly mattered. In Teldin's current frame of mind, those doubts put her on an equal footing with any of his most trusted friends.
Chapter Twelve
"How could such a thing happen?" thundered the scro general.
"There is a certain, unavoidable delay in getting information from the elven swan ship. Since our last dispatch, it seems that the human, Teldin Moore, changed the ship's destination from Lionheart to Radole," K'tide said. "It was most unexpected."
Grimnosh stopped his pacing to level an icy glare at the spy master. "I pay you to make sure I know what to expect. So far, your efforts have created little benefit and much potential for disaster."
"But our informant is still in place. In time, the elven ship will return to Lionheart-"
"We don't have time, you imbecilic insect," Grimnosh growled, thrusting a menacing forefinger into the spy master's chest. "Understand this: Lionheart is no longer the issue." He punctuated each word with a sharp stab, his claw banging painfully against K'tide's exoskeleton.
"But destroying the elven high command-"
"Was a pleasant fantasy," Grimnosh concluded firmly. He shook himself down as if to dispel both his rage and the notion of destroying Lionheart, and he strode purposefully over to his desk and lowered himself into his seat. "Now then. Under the circumstances, the Armistice project has become a problem. Given the elves' interest in Teldin Moore, as well as the fact that half the races of known space seem to be chasing the human's cloak, Winterspace soon will be infested with more ships than a bugbear has fleas." He paused to let K'tide absorb his words. "Now, where are the bionoid ships?"
K'tide blinked, startled. "Nearby. Why do you ask?"
"Summon them. Have them all land on the Elfsbane immediately."
"But that is impossible," the spy master stammered. "The bionoids work with me only with great reluctance. They will never take direct orders from you."
"Oh, come now, K'tide," Grimnosh chided. He folded his beautifully manicured hands on his desk. "Don't you think it's time we dispense with this ridiculous pretense?"
"But-"
"Call them!" thundered the scro.
Seeing that he had little choice, K'tide removed a small scrying globe from a pocket of his robe and sank deep into concentration. The telepathic argument was every bit as fierce as he'd anticipated, but finally he called upon the bionoids' pledge loyalty and demanded that they land on the dinotherium. Finally, feeling drained and depleted, he looked up at the glowering scro.
"It is done," he said.
"Excellent." Grimnosh turned to his ever-attentive adjutant. "Nimick, I want you to go to the landing deck. Wait for the shrike ships, then bring the officers to me at once."
"Sir?"
"The officers?" Grimnosh prodded, seeing that Nimick's astonishment had rendered him immobile. "I would like to see them? Here?"
The adjutant saluted and turned to carry out the order. "Oh, Nimick," Grimnosh drawled as if a new thought had just occurred to him. "You might stop by the barracks on your way. Select a dozen or so of my personal guard to help you escort our allies to my office. If some of our scro become overly conscientious in their duty, I should hate to have to break in a new adjutant."
Nimick disappeared through the doorway. "What is all this about?" K'tide demanded, rising from his chair and moving forward with several jerky strides.
"Sit."
The scro's suggestion was offered through a snarl of pure menace. K'tide took the chair Grimnosh pointedly indicated and waited for the bionoid officers.
Their approach was heralded long before their arrival; the presence of the guard did not prevent scro from shouting highly articulate, alliterative insults at their unlikely allies. The commotion grew progressively louder until Nimick's knock signaled their arrival.
"Enter," Grimnosh called sharply. He looked first to his adjutant. "Nimick, take the guard and inform the troops that this unseemly display is to stop immediately. The rest of you, please do come in."
"Leave you alone with them, sir?" the gray-green scro asked in disbelief.
"I'm touched by your solicitude, Nimick," Grimnosh said with dangerous calm. The adjutant saluted and shut the door behind him.
The scro general turned his attention to his allies, hiding his disdain for their elflike appearance only with great effort. He got the impression that the bionoids were struggling
to maintain similar facades. There was little love lost between the scro and the bionoids at the best of times, but since times were not good for either race, they had decided to make a mutual exception.
"I have an assignment for you," he said, rising to his full seven feet so that he towered over the deceptively fragile creatures. Their leader, a male named Wynlar, cast a quick glance toward K'tide. "Since time is of the essence, perhaps we should discard the pretense of an intermediary," Grim-nosh said.
"As you wish," Wynlar replied in an even voice, meeting the sera's gaze squarely.
The general nodded slightly, pleased by the bionoid leader's control. Less disciplined were the other officers: a red-haired female's eyes flashed fire, another wench kept smoothing back her silver hair in an unconscious gesture of agitation, and their wizard looked as if he were ready to weep. It was hard to equate these wretched, elflike creatures with the magnificent fighting machines they could become at will, but, since one could not be had without the other, Grimnosh was prepared to make allowances.
"Some of your people have been following the elven vessel called Trumpeter, so you know that this ship soon will be entering Winterspace, bound for the planet Radole. On that ship is a human who is attracting an unseemly amount of interest. Rather than risk drawing attention to our work on Armistice, I want the human out of the picture. You will find his ship, board it, and retrieve him. I want him. Dead or alive makes no difference. His name is Teldin Moore, and he is distinguished by the long, dark cloak he wears."
"An easy task," Wynlar said, a question in his quiet voice.
"Make it look difficult," Grimnosh said flatly. "Take every ship you have. Make a display of force, as if the elves themselves are your primary target."
"And the elves?" asked Wynlar.
Grimnosh smiled, thinking that he understood the bionoid leader's concerns. The combined bionoid forces numbered more than a score, and the fierce creatures would hardly be content with a surgical strike. Under similar circumstances, he would be hard pressed to hold back scro warriors from seeking trophies, and he was prepared to be generous with his allies.
"Kill as many elves as amuses you. I want only the human.
Find him and bring him to me, Captain," Grimnosh said with quiet emphasis. "I want this group to see to the task | personally. The rest of your people need not know the true target of this attack." There was a warning in the gentle suggestion that the shrewd bionoid could not miss, and Wynlar nodded.
The scro spread his hands in dismissal. "That's all. See to it."
Without a word, the bionoids turned and filed from the room. Four officers, twenty-odd bionoids altogether, Grimnosh mused. That might seem a small band to send against an elven swan ship, but conventional military odds favored one bionoid against ten fully armed scro. The scrawny bunch that had just left his office probably could have the elven crew for dawnfry without breaking a sweat.
"I thought that went rather well, didn't you, K'tide?" Grimnosh taunted.
"As you predicted," the spy master acceded in a tight voice. He rose. "If you have no further need of me?"
"No, K'tide," Grimnosh said meaningfully. "I have no further need of you."
K'tide bowed deeply and left the room. He moved as quickly as his brittle body allowed, taking a shortcut in order to beat the bionoid team back to their craft. His mission-not to mention his life-depended on his getting out of sight before Grimnosh decided who would have the honor of doing away with him.
The insectare made his way to the landing deck. He ran a pale green hand over the sleek surface of his own ship, a vessel shaped like a grasshopper's head with two long, trailing antennae. It had been too long since he had been aboard a klicklikak, the ship of his own people. Perhaps the alliance with the scro had broken down, but he still had influence' over the bionoid band. It would have to be enough.
The group rounded the corner and pulled up short to see K'tide waiting for them. "There has been a slight change of plan," K'tide announced.
"The scro general sent you?" Wynlar asked, suspicion in his voice.
For a moment K'tide debated whether to present his own agenda as his or Grimnosh's. The bionoids had always been unhappy about the alliance with the scro; they were bound to be unnerved by their meeting with the fearsome general. Perhaps he should play into those feelings.
"The scro has betrayed you," K'tide answered firmly. "He plans to do away with you four as soon as you retrieve the human."
The bionoids exchanged worried glances, and K'tide saw that he had struck a nerve. "And the other members of Clan Kir?" asked Wynlar.
"He needs them still, and he will until the Armistice goblins are released. As long as your people remain ignorant of the scro's treachery, they will remain safe-at least for the time. You four are highly skilled and battle proven. That is why Grimnosh has chosen you to achieve his purpose. A short-sighted decision, but one to be expected from such as he."
"Why does the scro want this human?" demanded Wynlar.
"The human has a cloak, an artifact of great power. As do all scro, Grimnosh wants this power for himself."
"Would it help him destroy the elves?" asked Tekura fiercely. K'tide suppressed a smile. Of all the bionoids, the silver-haired female had been his most stalwart ally.
"Oh, yes, as well as every other race in wildspace," K'tide said dryly. "Believe me, you would not want this cloak falling into scro hands." The spy master came several steps closer. "There is more. In his lust for personal power, Grimnosh is abandoning the attack on Lionheart. I take it your first concern is to end the elven domination of the spaceways?"
"Our first concern is the freedom of our own people," Wynlar corrected him.
"These are one and the same, are they not?" asked K'tide smoothly. "If we do not take matters into our own hands now, our goals will be lost Once the Armistice goblins are released, they have no further need of our services and we have no bargaining chips to use for their weapons. We must act now."
"What do you think we should do?" Wynlar asked quietly.
The insectare took a step forward. "Attack the elven swan ship, as Grimnosh directed. Get the human's cloak, but leave the ship and its crew intact."
"Why do we want this cloak?"
"To be quite honest, at this point we don't," K'tide said firmly. "But the elves do. If their captain, Vallus Leafbower, should lose the cloak, he will be obliged to return to Lionheart and report his failure. We have an informant on board, though he has not proven as reliable as I would have hoped. A bionoid ship, armed with the stolen elven cloaking device, will follow the swan ship to Lionheart and release the secondary marauder."
"A risky plan," Wynlar said cautiously.
"Our only chance," Tekura stressed, rounding on the captain. "K'tide is right. If we don't move now, we'll never have another chance at getting a Witchlight Marauder, and we'll never have another chance to get one into Lionheart."
The bionoid captain bowed his head in resignation. "All right. We will tell Clan Kir only what Grimnosh asked of us: that we attack the elven vessel."
"We will travel together," K'tide said. "I will follow aboard the klicklikak. Assign two of your ranks to serve as my crew."
"Bionoids, traveling on an insectare ship?" the bionoid wizard demanded. "Only an insectare can run the helm. You can't power the klicklikak alone-"
"There is an auxiliary helm," K'tide broke in, "a lifejammer."
K'tide did not miss the bionoids' shudders and the shocked glances they exchanged. "You will not use my people to power your ship," Wynlar said, clearly appalled at the notion.
The spy master suppressed a smile. It amused him that such fierce killers could have so soft a core. Of course, they had not had the benefit of Grimnosh's tutelage, as he had. And he, K'tide, was a fast study.
"I assure you, Wynlar, that won't be necessary. I've had some kobolds packed in the hold. They should suffice as fuel."
Chapter Thirteen
Raven Stormwalker was the
first to see the approaching ship. On her insistence, she'd been assigned duty on the forward watch. Although Vallus was a little leery of having her on the bridge, he had thought it wise to treat her as if she were what she claimed to be: a moon elf adventurer. The elven wizard watched Raven carefully, though always, Teldin noticed, from a considerable distance. It took Vallus several days before he could completely discard his theory of Raven as a "survivor," and to shake his overwhelming horror of the type of living death such a being could deal. Teldin puzzled over the elven wizard's strange reaction, but he had to admit that his own, private response to Raven Stormwalker was equally disturbing. She was, by appearances, an elf, and quite possibly the possessor of another ultimate helm, but Teldin was undeniably drawn to her.
Almost daily Teldin found himself on the swan ship's bridge during Raven's watch, and more than once they'd spent the entire watch together, sometimes talking, sometimes gazing into wildspace in equally companionable silence. Not since Aelfred's death had Teldin felt so at ease with another being. Perhaps Raven was a competitor for the Spelljammer, but who was not? If she was a competitor, she was also a comrade, and a palpable sense of kinship drew them together.
Teldin could not, however, dispel the image of the monstrous face he'd seen superimposed on Raven's features. What was she? Obviously, she was not the Raven Stormwalker of elven legend. If she could transform herself into an elf and-if the lakshu had been right-into a dragon, what was her true form? As Teldin puzzled this, it occurred to him that he'd reached a sad state of affairs: he found the prospect of a dragon less threatening than a woman.
Whatever she was, Raven turned out to be a great favorite around the ship. She'd traveled widely and told her experiences in a wry, understated style that the story-loving elves found engaging. Her practical experience was also in demand; she even advised Hectate of a gate into the crystal sphere of Winterspace, a new one that the half-elven navigator hadn't known existed. "Let's just say I was there when it opened," she had observed cryptically. She was good company: intelligent and amusing as well as easy to look at. And so Teldin's days had slipped by, busy but uneventful… until now.
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