Teldin looked at his friend and smiled. He thought, I'm not always sure I trust you either. What he said was, 'I should have known you would arrive here before me.'
I was lucky. The arcane I traveled with already knew of the Spelljammer's position. I have since been accepted by the illithid community as a friend and an advisor.
'And your research?' Teldin inquired. 'What can you tell me?'
With the cloak, you may know more than I. What do you need to know?
'First,' CassaRoc interrupted, 'where do the mind flayers stand?'
Estriss was silent at first. I have spoken with Lord Trebek, and he wished me to express his regrets that the illithid community can do nothing at this time. He is taking the all-too-human attitude of 'wait and see.'
However, I will place my trust in Teldin. I have no loyalty to the Spelljammer's illithids. My loyalty is to knowledge. You and I… Well, he said mentally, I will help you all I can.
'Good,' Teldin said. 'I respect that, my friend.' He leaned across the table. 'Now, what can you tell me? I need to become the captain of the Spelljammer, and I don't even know how.'
Ahhh. Estriss's facial tentacles twitched with interest. This is one of the first things I discovered in the books of Lord Trebek. Your first task is to find what is called the adytum.
'Adytum? How do I find that? What is it?'
Estriss made a curious sucking sound, the equivalent of illithid laughter. You don't find it. It finds you.
'What does that mean?'
The adytum is a chamber of some kind, hidden from all but those who are worthy. Now, let me ask you, have you felt any odd yearnings while on board, a feeling to get out and explore the Spelljammer/'
Teldin considered. 'No, not really. Well- ' The dream. When he had awakened from the dream, he had gotten out of bed and wanted to get out, to explore. 'Yes,' he said. 'Yes. Once, but- '
Excellent. This is what you are to do: Listen to your feelings. When you are called, you must answer. The end of your quest lies there, in the adytum.
Soon, it will call you, and you will hear.
Estriss stayed and talked for another hour, going over his research. Teldin was overwhelmed, forgetting much of it, hoping that it would come to him later, when he needed it. The growing of brain mold was not all that interesting, nor was an examination of the Guild tower's patterns in hobbying.
Estriss's research was best when it touched on the truths or near truths of the Spelljammer's legends. Estriss was especially interested in Teldin's account of his journey to Nex, and his confrontation with the devolved Juna and their protective world-mind. He was disappointed to hear of their regression to the primitive, but was fascinated by the concept of a living planet.
'I have discovered something else,' Teldin said, 'but without the benefit of hard facts. I am receiving images, feelings of some sort, of events long ago that had to do with the Spelljammer. I do not pretend to understand all that I have seen, but I have been shown that the Spelljammer was not created by solely the Juna. I believe they were but one race that helped in its creation.'
Estriss stared at him curiously. How do you know this?
Teldin wondered if the mind flayer would take him seriously. 'The amulet. It is a guide to the Spelljammer. It has shown me much, and since I've been here, I have seen even more, visions of the past, I believe. The Spelljammer was created, yes, but I don't know why. It is a living thing, and I believe it was created through the combination of magic and life-a life-form that has long been extinct. And it was here, at the Broken Sphere.'
Estriss watched him closely. There's something else, isn', there? Estriss queried. Teldin nodded. 'The Spelljammer. It did this.'
CassaRoc stared silently, his ale frozen halfway to his mouth.
'Did what'' he asked.
'The Broken Sphere. Thousands of thousands of years ago, it was known as… Ouiyan. Then, in the throes of the Spelljammer's creation, the great ship itself destroyed the sphere. There were-' Teldin had to think. The number came to him. 'There were eighteen planets here. All are dead now.' He paused. 'All dead. The Spelljammer is a murderer of worlds.
Stardawn paused in the open market to examine game pieces of molded pewter. He had found out what he needed to know. The Cloakmaster- for he was indeed the Cloakmaster- had no idea of his own power. There was still time to kill the simpleton and steal the cloak. Stardawn, alone among so many, knew that with the helm, all the Spelljammer's secrets would be his.
No more rumors. No more gossip. With Teldin Moore dead, all his theories about magical items brought to the ship would be proven correct. If they were, the greatest ship in all the spheres would soon be his, and his elven brethren would reign over the universe.
Lothian Stardawn would be their lord.
Humans, he thought, they're all so gullible.
Chapter Ten
'Amid the death, Amid the hatred, One shall come To honor the ages. Blood will run From bow to stern; Destiny calls, And all will learn That Life is not To be torn asunder. Life is wisdom And visions of wonder…' Excerpt, '
The main level of the beholder ruins was uncommonly bright. Usually the beholders disdained such light, preferring instead the comfortable coolness of the shadows.
But, for their honored guests, they were more than willing to make an exception.
Amid the toppled columns and the ruined statuary, ShiCaga the Enchantress, chieftess of the ogre population, stood surrounded by her towering sons, HiRotu and AziKash, and ten of her misshapen ogre warriors. ShiCaga was beautiful by ogre standards, and her face was decorated with white powders and lotions that made her appear like an ugly, towering ghost.
Opposite the ogres, waiting near one of the broad staircases spiraling up to the beholder quarters, stood a dozen representatives of the minotaur race. Onehorn, their newly elected leader, snorted angrily at the head of the group. His was the mark of the broken horn; and his was the shame of murdering his own king under thrall of the beholders' hypnotic powers. The eye tyrants had released the minotaurs from their spells, knowing well that the charms would shortly wear off anyway, and that the minotaurs could not be charmed forever. A treaty, Gray Eye had decided, would keep the minotaurs on the beholders' leash and send a powerful signal to the Spelljammer's general population.
Then the minotaurs could be disposed of when the time was right.
Onehorn groused at the beholders' rule, but he also knew that a treaty would keep the minotaurs alive- long enough, at least, until they could plan a suitable revenge- and from under the eye tyrants' spells of subservience. He shuddered with anger, remembering how Breakox had been slaughtered by his own uncontrollable hand. Breakox's blood was on his hands! Now, though, the protection of the minotaurs was most important. Vengeance, he determined, would most definitely come later, but his shame would last forever.
The final group arrived through the ruins' huge doors. Each standing more than twenty feet tall, the seven hill giants stooped to enter the ruins, then stretched to their full heights inside. As they came to a stop in the center of the room, the colony of beholders, led by their ancient leader, Gray Eye, floated down through the circular entrance in the ceiling.
The beholders, surrounded by their invited guests, hovered a few feet off the floor. On a table behind them lay a long piece of parchment detailing a series of agreements.
'Welcome,' Gray Eye said, 'to the first treaty of the beholders, and to the beginning of the end of the neogi.'
The hill giants, a family of renegades from the giant tower who felt stifled under Taja Deeplunder's rule,
