by Roger Moore
“We should find Dyffed first and get that thingfinder from him.” Teldin tried a weak smile. “Not that I’m telling you what to do, mind you.”
Aelfred didn’t smile back, but he relaxed slightly. “I’ll arm wrestle you for control of the ship, if you like,” he said, “then you can try to command a crew of gnomes.”
Teldin shook his head. “I’m afraid I threw my arm out when I was rowing over to the shore to meet those rastipedes,” he said sorrowfully. “As soon as it’s better, I’ll let you know.” Aelfred laughed. “That’s what I like,” he said, “job security. I’ll go find Dyffed.”
When Aelfred had left, Teldin’s smile faded. He knew that he had done a nearly disastrous thing in pulling the gnome from the helm. Now that it was all over, he couldn’t believe he had done it. What if things hadn’t turned out, as Aelfred had said? What had made him do it? He remembered thinking, for just a moment as he grabbed for Loomfinger, that he could do anything he wanted to with the cloak, and it would work if he tried hard enough. Had he been getting cocky, then, with his new powers? He knew he would have to use his intelligence from now on, not his ego.
For a few minutes, Teldin concentrated on the Perilous Halibut’s climb away from the ground, and toward … what? He wasn’t sure. Was there a wildspace-type vacuum in the middle of this sphere? Or was there air all the way through it? He had visited several crystal spheres in the months since he’d left Krynn, and no two of them were much alike at all. This one took the prize so far, though he recalled some tales that Aelfred told of a sphere in which a gigantic tree grew, with planets nestled in its branches. He shook his head. Less than a year ago, he would have laughed. Now he believed every word of it.
Suddenly, he thought to look down, using his helm-given view of the ship’s outside. He’d been looking up and across for some time, seeing little other than blue sky, wispy clouds of every possible shape, and the huge sun overhead. The sky was still fairly clear. The view should be interesting.
So he looked down.
“Paladine,” he breathed. “Oh, great Paladine.”
Teldin had seen worlds from space before. He’d never forgotten his first view of Krynn from orbit: the beautiful blue seas, green and brown lands, white clouds. It was one world among a multitude, but it was his world. In his mind, it had become precious beyond the value of any treasure, and he loved it for all of its flaws and heartaches. It was just one little world, but he had felt a strange emotion upon seeing it as a whole for the first time.
But Teldin had never dreamed of seeing a world that had no end, a world that got bigger the farther one traveled from it. As he looked down, Teldin could see the outlines of four mighty rivers, two mountain ranges, and two vast blue seas that rivaled the largest lakes that Krynn could offer. The view went on and on. As he looked down, he became aware that he must be hundreds of miles up now. The view extended off to his left and right to a considerable distance, though it faded into blue sky, hidden by the thickness of the atmosphere.
He had to admit that the lake below him did, indeed, resemble a gigantic beast’s footprint. He looked at the other lake he had seen – and saw that it, too, resembled a footprint. In fan, so did the next huge lake he saw, lying in the opposite direction on roughly a straight line with the previous two lakes. It must be true, Teldin thought, that these are footprints. Even as he thought it, part of his mind would not accept it. What in the name of all the gods in the universe could possibly be so huge as to carve out a sea with each step? He had thought he’d accepted the idea of Dyffed’s “megafauna” before, but …
Teldin’s outside vision became blurred for a moment. The ship passed through a mild sort of turbulence. He look wildly around the outside of the ship. The blue sky was gone, and in its place was a patchwork sky of blues, browns, greens, and white – the full view of Herdspace.
He slowly realized he must have left the atmosphere’s upper boundary, which was fairly distinct here instead of being a gradual shift from air to vacuum as on a normal world. Why this place was different, he hadn’t a clue. With the thick air gone except for the ships’ own air envelope, he could now see perfectly in all directions. He could make out very few distinct features beyond a certain distance, as they were too far away, put he could see the outlines of continents that were larger than planets, and oceans that could swallow a dozen Krynns. Gone was the blackness of wildspace and the glorious constellations. Now, all he could see was sand-colored land and blue water, until it faded into the reaches of infinity.
The Perilous Halibut was moving much faster now, he noticed, at full wildspace speed. A thousand miles flashed by with each second of travel in wildspace, he recalled Sylvie saying, and with each second, his view of the land below subtly shifted, revealing new vistas that tugged at his already overstretched imagination. Now he could see a line of footprint lakes and valleys, an unmistakable path of stupendous craters that reached off into the distance toward … toward …
“Great gods of Krynn,” Teldin breathed.
*****
Aelfred was busy elsewhere on the ship now, so Gaye decided it was safe to visit Teldin in the helm room. Sylvie wouldn’t talk to her when the half-elf was on the helm, and Loomfinger didn’t know how to explain things very well, but Teldin could tell her what it was like to be on the helm. She was dying to find out. What did it feel like? How could you see outside the ship, as she’d always heard could be done, and still see the inside of the ship? She’d had a million questions all bottled up inside her for years, and now she had someone who could tell her the answers at last.
Gaye padded softly to the helm room door. Get a grip on yourself, she thought. Don’t get too close to him too soon; men never liked that. Just take your time and get him to talk, like he was just before the splashdown in the lake. He’s got so much on his mind, but maybe there’s room for a little more. She thought again of his blue eyes, so much like her father’s, and she shivered. It wasn’t cold in the corridor.
No one else was around the door, and she could hear nothing inside the room, so Teldin must be alone. She took a deep breath and knocked.
No answer came. She waited, knocked again, then tried the door handle. It was unlocked, so she peeked inside.
Teldin sat in the helm, facing the door. Maps hung on the walls around him in the small room, and low tables held stacks of papers and boob. A magical ceiling light spread soft radiance across the room, blending with the shining pink from Teldin’s spelljamming cloak.
She smiled and opened her mouth to say hi, but she saw the expression on Teldin’s face and stopped. He seemed to be stunned at something he was staring at over the door. Gaye carefully looked up but saw nothing except the door frame and another map on the wall.
She slid into the room and shut the door behind her. “Teldin?” she asked. “Are you okay?”
His jaw worked slightly. “Yes,” he said in a whisper. He never looked at her.
“You just look strange,” she said. “Is it because you’re spell-jamming? Is the helm comfortable? You just have the funniest look on your face.”
Teldin tried to swallow with a dry mouth. Still he gazed into the distance at some invisible scene. “It’s … you can’t see it from in here. You could if you were on deck.” He tried to smile. “I found one of Dyffed’s megafauna. Great gods of Krynn, you can’t believe this thing.”
“What? What’s it look like? How big is it?” Gaye was instantly torn between rushing to the upper deck and staying with Teldin. She thought she would go nuts with indecision. “Talk to me!” she said.
“I can’t be sure how big it is,” Teldin said slowly. “It has a huge blue-and-red-striped body, with a long neck and a tail. I think only its legs are in the atmosphere; the rest of it rises out far beyond it. Maybe it’s ten thousand miles high, I don’t know. Wait – the hatches are opening on the main deck. Gnomes, some gnomes and Aelfred are coming out. Maybe they saw it through the portholes. There’s Gomja, too. They’re just looking at the cr
eature. I’ve adjusted our course so that we can fly around it, and I’ve dropped our altitude a few thousand miles so that we can be on its level.” His voice faded off, his vision still riveted on the sight.
“Keep talking,” said Gaye.
Teldin licked his lips. He was aware of a pleasant scent in the air. Gaye, probably. She was wearing some kind of perfume again. “We’re coming closer to the creature. It has a tremendous multicolored shadow on the ground, fuzzy. I can see a vague sort of haze around its neck and head, maybe gas or clouds. It might have its own air envelope around it, maybe its own gravity field. It would have to, wouldn’t it, since it’s so big. The head is very strange, like a lizard with fanlike ears. There might be gills on the side of its head, ahead of the neck. It has only one eye, very big and dark green. Some of the gnomes are waving at it, but I don’t think it sees us. No one seems to be saying much. It’s so big that it looks like it could walk over a planet.”
Gaye was silent, picturing the scene herself. She glanced down, lost in her reverie, and saw Teldin’s left hand lying limp on the arm of the helm. After a moment, she reached out slowly and put her right hand on top of his and squeezed. His skin was very warm, almost hot. Something happened inside her when she felt his heat. He didn’t pull his hand away, but he didn’t return the squeeze.
“It’s beautiful,” Teldin said, unaware of her. “I never dreamed it would ever be like this.”
Gaye felt her cheeks flush with a heat of her own. She couldn’t look up at him. After a moment, she came to and looked around, then pulled her hand away.
“I’ll go up on deck,” she said softly. “Look for me up there.”
“I will,” Teldin said, still looking into space.
Gaye closed the door and walked through the ship for the nearest ladder to the upper deck. Her heart pounded in her ears every step of the way.
This is stupid, she thought. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’ve never had this happen to me. I’m falling for him. He’s a human, but so was my rather. He and Mom worked out pretty well. But why this guy? Why am I breathing so fast? This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. Where is the ladder? I missed it – I have to go back two doors now. What is the matter with me? Will he see me if I’m on deck? Where will I have to stand for him to see me? Will I be able to see him, or what?
She found the ladder and climbed through the already open hatchway. Light poured down from the great, perfect sun at the zenith. A vault of dim color arced overhead, swirls of blue and white and dark green and tan everywhere. She stood up, looked in the direction everyone else was looking, and immediately forgot about Teldin.
But only for a little while.
*****
“We should be there in less than an hour,” said Aelfred in the helm room. “Dyffed got a good fix with the thingfinder on our buddy, the slug, and he just went topside to take one last look at it. I wish Sylvie was up, but the longer she sleeps now, the better off she and the rest of us will be. She should be able to use the helm now that it’s fixed. We’ll just take the arm off when you want to use it.”
“Speaking of Dyffed,” said Teldin, “I can see him on the top deck now. Doesn’t he ever change clothes?”
Aelfred laughed. He was slowly becoming the old Aelfred Teldin knew, one less stressed than he’d been since arriving at this bizarre sphere. “I could ask Gomja to catch him and hold him down while we scrub him off, but neither of us would like to get that close to him. I’ll see what I can do to suggest a change. He is getting a bit stale.”
Teldin was silent for a moment, obviously using his helm vision. “I’m trying to see what Dyffed is looking at with that thingfinder,” he said. “I don’t see another world-beast yet, but I probably will, soon. Did Dyffed say what the one we want look like, or do they all look the same?”
“I had the impression from Dyffed that these monsters were unique. Half the time, though, he talks too far over my head to catch what he’s saying. If he’d talk normally instead of using twelve-syllable words, maybe I’d – what’s wrong?”
Teldin’s body went rigid, his fingers digging into the arms of the helm. “Aelfred, get someone on the top deck!” he said. “Dyffed’s thingfinder blew up on him!”
*****
“Kobas,” said a soft voice in the darkness of the room. General Vorr was instantly awake. His right hand strayed down to his side and tugged free his sword, oiled so that it made no sound.
“Kobas, wake up.” Her voice came from the room’s far side. Vorr listened carefully but heard nothing out of the ordinary.
“What do you want?” he asked. It had to be an emergency. Usso had been warned too many times to never disturb his sleep for any other reason. He reached for the wall beside his floor mat and pressed his hand against it. The magical lights in the ceiling came on as he did.
Usso flinched at the lights, then steadied herself. She sat in a respectful posture by the doorway, hands folded in her lap, fox tail curled around her side.
“Let’s hear it,” he said, sliding his sword back into its sheath and sitting up. He wore only his kilt.
“Something weird just happened,” Usso said. Her face was tight with tension. “I was on deck, invisible, when I noticed one of the scro, Sergeant Dlavish, at the signaling lamp. I thought he was working on it, but I recalled that the lamp had been in perfect shape earlier, so I investigated. Dlavish was aiming the lamp at the pyramid ship, two miles trailing, and was preparing to send a message. I read his mind with a spell, then confirmed my findings with other spells. He was acting as a spy for the false lich, Skarkesh. I checked him magically using a few devices of my own and found that he had been placed under a spell of charming recently. He was about to send a message that indicated our current crew, weapons, and supply status.”
Vorr grunted and rubbed at his face. He’d been expecting news like this for some time. “Go on,” he said.
“I didn’t want to alert Dlavish or the lich that I had caught on to the situation, so I cast a ventriloquism spell to make him think someone was approaching. He shut down the lamp and went on about his normal duties. Once he came below decks, I was able get the assistance of several officers to have him arrested and held in his cabin under guard, where he is now. I do not believe I alerted Skarkesh by my actions.”
“Had Sergeant Dlavish ever been in contact with Skarkesh?” Vorr asked hoarsely.
“Not at all. To my knowledge, there is no way a charm-type spell could have been cast on him. The range was always too great. My belief is that either Skarkesh used a new charm spell with a very long range, that he managed to get Dlavish to touch some object that had the spell imbued in it, or that Skarkesh cast the spell through the medium of a magical device with scrying abilities, like a crystal ball or magical mirror, perhaps one that produces an image of the caster through which other spells can be cast. If the latter is true, then Skarkesh can spy upon us as well as cast spells on our troops, and we are in terrible danger.”
Vorr thought of the magical mirror he had seen Skarkesh try to use the previous day, without success. “What’s our tactical situation?”
“We should reach the edge of the atmosphere in one hour. Skarkesh’s last message indicated that Teldin Moore and his ship had set off for a specific point on the inside of this sphere, about ninety thousand miles from here. Teldin must be using his cloak to spelljam the gnomish ship, because of its extraordinary speed. At best, we should be about two or three hours behind him, unless he is delayed. It appears that he will be meeting with a creature of some kind, something called a fal. All ships are in full readiness and are in standard flight formation with us. I should add that we’ve neither heard from nor seen the elves at any time since we entered this sphere.”
Vorr looked down in deep thought, then got to his feet. He reached for a fresh uniform in a wardrobe and began to get dressed. “I want you to check the rest of the crew aboard this ship and find out if any of them have been charmed. Do it as quickly as you can. After yo
u check Admiral Halker and Captain Azofin, have them meet me here immediately. Under no circumstances is any word of this to be released to the troops. I don’t even want other ships notified yet. We’ve got to find a way to check everyone on the other ships. I think the war priests have spells that would help. Just get the admiral and captain and start checking everyone.”
Usso nodded quickly and got to her feet.
“Usso,” said Vorr.
The fox-woman turned, then jumped. Vorr had moved across the room to her in two swift strides. He caught her by the arm, his grip like a gentle vice. “If you had been charmed,” he said in an even voice, “the charm would be negated now by contact with me. Are you lying to me, Usso?”
“No,” she said in a shaking voice, shrinking back from him. “Kobas, please don’t hurt me. I’m not lying. I’m not charmed. I’m telling the truth. Please don’t.”
Vorr stared down at her, then let go. “If we pull out of this, Usso, I’ll owe you a special reward – but don’t fail me.”
“No,” she said, rubbing her arm. She moved closer to the door, her eyes still on the general, then pressed an amulet against the door’s wood. She then walked through the door as if it were not there, and was gone.
“Skarkesh,” said General Vorr with clenched teeth, “You’re going to wish you had just stayed dead.”
Chapter Fifteen
The cheerless giff wore his spotless red-and-gold uniform when he reported to Teldin in the helm room. “Hello, sir,” Gomja said, giving a halfhearted salute with a thick blue hand. “I thought I would bring you up to date on Dyffed’s condition.”
“It looked like his hands were injured when the box exploded,” said Teldin, shifting positions in the helm seat. The helm wasn’t the most comfortable chair, and Teldin’s lower back ached. The room wasn’t ventilated, either, and his clothes were already stained with sweat.
“I’m afraid that I have some bad news on that,” the giff said heavily, his shoulders drooping. “We’ve run out of all healing potions and magical curatives, and none of the crew aboard has any clerical spell power. Gaye was able to bandage Dyffed’s hands after cleaning the wounds, but he lost two fingers from each hand in the explosion. Without magic, the damage cannot be repaired.”