The beholder's tongue flicked out and sucked the chunk of meat back into its mouth. 'What might you possibly have that would be of interest to the beholders?' he said around the flesh in his mouth.
Selura walked slowly around the room, pretending to admire the torn and rotting tapestries, the obvious signs of violence and war that scarred the chamber. Gray Eye watched her, then sighed. 'Enough theatrics, woman. What do you have?'
Selura fingered a faded, ancient tapestry depicting a victory of the beholders in a battle on Legadda, a planet located in Icespace. She knew nothing of its history, nor of the crystal sphere in which the original battle had taken place.
'Ruins,' she said to the beholder. 'Everything here is in ruins.'
Gray Eye grunted. 'You speak the obvious, human.' His voice was like the crunch of gravel. 'What are you getting at?'
She smiled a seductive human smile, one that had sent men willingly to their deaths, and hoped it would work on the beholder. 'Revenge, Gray Eye. You want revenge.'
The beholder watched her with its large, milky eye. 'So. You want to sell me revenge. For what?'
'Revenge,' she said sweetly, 'for the Blinding Rot.'
Gray Eye floated silently. All his eyes turned to watch Selura.
Yes, he wanted revenge. They all wanted revenge. The onslaught of the Blinding Rot had decimated the beholder population on board the Spelljammer years ago. There had been more than a hundred of them; they had been the most powerful nation aboard the great ship, stronger than even the elves. Then the disease had come: the Blinding Rot.
One by one, the beholders' eyestalks withered, then fell off like dried twigs. Death followed soon thereafter, either naturally, or at another beholder's eyes.
The xenophobic beholders hated differences in their race and despised deformities so much that they would kill. After the Blinding Rot had destroyed half the population on the Spelljammer, most of the handicapped survivors were slaughtered by their brethren, for fear of the Rot and for hatred of the unfit. A handful survived, mostly on hatred and dreams of revenge against those who had brought this doom to their race.
And, of course, there were the… unspeakables…
Until now, they had only suspicions about who had infected the race with the Rot. Now an opportunity for blood revenge was at hand.
'You have proof?' Gray Eye asked.
Selura nodded.
'What do you want?'
'Only one thing,' she said. 'Your word that the beholder nation will not harm the Long Fangs in any way during the coming war. You will leave us alone, in peace.'
Gray Eye considered. 'That can be done,' he said. 'It is agreed. Tell me.'
She approached the dais and said softly, 'The neogi.'
The large, milky eye glared at her. 'The neogi. We have long suspected that. What proof do you have?'
'A renegade neogi is with us at the Long Fangs' tower. He admitted the neogi plot to a confederate of mine not long ago.'
'The neogi…' Gray Eye said. 'How?'
'They infected a small portion of your food. The Rot was so contagious that it took only a few days to pass among you. By the time you learned of it, it was already too late.'
Gray Eye nodded his huge body. 'There shall be a truce between us during the war for the Spelljammer. The neogi bastards will be ours.' He smiled. Light flickered off the shards that were his teeth.
Later, outside, in the warm light of the flow, Selura breathed deeply and relaxed. That went well, she thought. That went perfectly.
Soon war will break throughout the ship, and in all the chaos and lovely death, the Long Fangs will remain untouched. The fighting will be over, and the other forces will be ravaged when we finally reveal ourselves.
The ship will easily belong to the Long Fangs.
To me.
Chapter Nine
'… None shall be untouched by violence. The coming of the Cloakmaster shall end the cycle began by Egrestarrian, continued by Drestarin, Wrycanion, Ysaallian, Trisilliar, and the others. The end shall belong only to Creannon-the Spelljammer-and the end, as foretold, shall herald a new beginning, and a new birth, and life shall be as it always was…'
The slim, curved blade was a flash of cruel light as it arced toward his chest. Teldin had just enough time to shout 'No!' when a gray blur whizzed between them and struck Cwe-lanas's arm with a loud crack. The elf cried out as the dagger was slung against the wall.
The gray shield rang sharply against the stone wall and clattered to the floor. Na'Shee ran past Teldin and took up her shield, then slipped the elf s dagger into her belt. 'How…?' Teldin asked her.
'It's broken,' Na'Shee said to Teldin. Cwelanas was gripping her wrist, and blood oozed between her fingers. 'She won't be killing anybody for a while.' The female warrior pressed Cwelanas against the wall with one foot, and the elf moaned in pain. Na'Shee drew her short sword and pressed the tip of the blade against the elf's throat. 'We better get CassaRoc,' Na'Shee said, and she shouted down the corridor. 'What are you doing here?' Teldin asked. 'CassaRoc is no fool. You have too many enemies on this ship,' the warrior woman said. 'He's assigned you guards for as long as you're with us.' She stepped back and called again for more guards. Within a minute, Teldin heard the rumble of feet rushing up the tower stairs, then CassaRoc was there, panting. His eyes were half closed; Teldin could tell he had been sleeping.
CassaRoc nodded once at Na'Shee. 'What happened?'
Na'Shee adjusted the shield on her arm. 'She wanted to see Teldin. I was stationed at the end of the corridor, and I let her pass, since I knew they were friends. I heard his door open, but I never heard her knock first. So I came up and watched from around the corner of the stairs. I heard Teldin call out a name, and she came running out. She started crying outside the door when Teldin came out. She turned around, and her eyes were… crazed, possessed. She pulled out a dagger and went for him.' Na'Shee grinned an angry, righteous smile. 'I took care of her.'
CassaRoc smiled. 'Good work. I knew this would happen. Didn't think it would be so soon, though.' He turned to Teldin. 'Are you hurt?'
Teldin shook his head. He could not take his gaze from Cwelanas. She sat huddled on the floor, crying, rubbing her shattered wrist. Her eyes looked hollow, fixed on some point in oblivion that only she could see.
CassaRoc's warriors lifted her from the floor and tightly gripped her arms. 'We'll lock her up, you can count on that,' CassaRoc said.
Teldin went to her. Her eyes were empty, she could not see him, but focused instead on some point behind him, or somewhere else in her mind.
'Cwelanas…' he said.
He grasped her shoulders and tightened his grip. 'Cwelanas, why?'
She blinked and slowly moved her head around, as though she were just awakening. Her eyes met Teldin's. At first, they were blank with incomprehension; to Teldin, it looked as though she recognized no one around her, even him. Then her eyes widened as she focused on his face. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, then she thrashed violently against her guards and pulled her good arm away. Her arm went up, her fist clutching an imaginary dagger, and over and over she brought the dagger down into Teldin's chest, moaning, 'Teldin, Teldin… I love.. no, Teldin- Noooo!'
