Armory, and from there into the Dark Tower. We can do this by crossing the battlement over to the Armory.'
'You'll never get inside,' Stardawn said. 'Many of us have tried. No one is ever killed, but the guardian shivaks beat our warriors senseless, then throw them back out. You cannot defeat the shivaks. They are like…'he searched for the words '… like beings of stone.'
'That's why we need your help,' Teldin said. 'If you could spare some of your fighters to accompany us, perhaps we could make it past the shivaks and gain entrance to the Dark Tower.'
Stardawn considered this. 'Let me take this up with the commanders,' he said. 'I shall return shortly. Until then… Guard!' he cried. 'Bring our guests refreshment and whatever else they desire.' He turned to Teldin. 'Cloakmaster, please make yourself at home.'
Stardawn disappeared behind a huge tapestry hung against the far wall. There he entered a small antechamber and sat at an ancient desk decorated with silver and gold.
He sat quietly and waited, staring blankly at the top of the desk. Time was short, he knew, if the Cloakmaster was this close to his goal. The Armory would be impassable without the elves' help, and Teldin would never achieve the captaincy. The shivaks were too strong and too numerous. Had he not tried to enter the Armory twice himself?
No, the Cloakmaster could not proceed.
Stardawn wasted time for several minutes, deciding what he should tell them, then strode purposefully into the audience chamber, where Teldin and his group waited. He stopped as Teldin rose from his chair.
'I'm sorry, Cloakmaster,' Stardawn said with all due reverence. 'The high command has decided that the elven empire shall not assist you.'
'But what of our treaty?' CassaRoc inquired angrily. 'You promised your help.'
'And the command shall help you, as it is spelled out in our agreement. The battles you anticipate are against the shivaks, and have nothing to do with protecting the elves. As such, the high command refuses to aid you. I am truly sorry, Cloakmaster.'
By this time, all in the group had risen from their chairs and were staring at Teldin. He absently toyed with his bronze amulet. ' 'I'm sorry.' That's all the elves can say?'
Stardawn was silent. If Teldin had been paying attention, he would have noticed the anger smoldering inside the elf s eyes at the human's temerity to mock an elven commander.
Teldin said suddenly, 'Then we go anyway.'
The spell was broken. Na'Shee smiled and adjusted her heavy belt, hung with weaponry. CassaRoc stood prouder and nodded once. 'There we go,' he said.
'Wait,' Stardawn said. 'Your courage is admirable,' he said quickly, 'but you cannot defeat the shivaks. I've been in there myself, exploring,' he said quickly. 'I've fought them and lost. For every man you have, two or three shivaks will appear. You have no chance.'
It was Djan's turn to speak. 'We have the Cloakmaster. It is his destiny to seek the adytum. We will be victorious. We must be.'
This was not working properly, Stardawn knew. They were supposed to turn back, facing unbeatable opponents. Of course, he could let them go on and face defeat, but what if, just what if they were to beat the shivaks?
Then the cloak would never be his. And the Spelljammer would be denied to the elves, the natural rulers of the universe, and, most importantly, to him.
'Then,' Stardawn said carefully, with just enough theatrics j to make them believe him, 'the high command be damned. I will go with you. If,' he added, 'you'll have me.'
CassaRoc watched Teldin cautiously. The Cloakmaster smiled and looked into Stardawn's eyes. His hand was held to his chest, as though he were gaining warmth from the glowing symbol. 'You are welcome to accompany us, Stardawn. We can certainly use your expertise.'
Stardawn turned. 'I will prepare myself for battle,' he said. 'I'll return shortly.'
The group watched him go.
'I'm not sure that elf can be trusted,' CassaRoc confided.
Teldin said slowly, 'I'm sure he cannot.' The pattern on his chest glowed even brighter. Teldin stared into the shadows where Stardawn had disappeared. 'But this is the way it was meant to be. One of us will not return.'
The silence lay heavy in the antechamber while the warriors pondered Teldin's prediction.
'Would you be kind enough to explain that?' CassaRoc finally asked.
'I wish I could. Stardawn is supposed to be with us, this I know. And… we must accept the decree of fate.'
They watched him without commenting, then stood silently until Stardawn returned, well armed and suited for battle. He led them from the audience chamber to a small door off a central corridor. Other elves were busy there, hardly noticing the humans. They carried their brethren, wounded and bloody from the battles outside, on stretchers and in their arms.
Stardawn unlocked a wooden door with an ancient iron key, and the door slowly creaked open. Beyond, a staircase covered with dust led down into the darkness. 'No one goes through here much,' Stardawn admitted. 'I was the last that I know of, almost a year ago.'
The group entered the stairwell, and the elf closed the door. He took a light rod from a shelf. 'First we go down. This leads to the lowest level, and that leads to a staircase up to the battlement. We won't need the lights outside. Besides, from what I saw, the Armory is lit by the Spelljammer's light panels. We'll have no trouble seeing once we get inside.'
They filed down the narrow staircase and gathered at the bottom. Stardawn unlocked the door and led them into an old storage area.
'This way,' Stardawn said, and he led them between piles of dusty crates and casks of murky liquids to an ancient hidden door. He unlocked this one with another iron key and ushered them through. The chamber beyond also was used for storage, but the boxes and urns stacked across one wall seemed forgotten and were layered with a thick patina of dust. In one corner, a spiral staircase twisted up into darkness. Stardawn held up the light rod. 'Not very far,' he smiled, 'only twenty five floors to go.'
Teldin paused. This level, this room, of the elven command seemed familiar to him, though he had never been here. The smell of ancient dust, the feel of the wooden door, the sound of the lock being opened-I know this, he thought. He cocked his head and turned his thoughts inward. How do I know this place?
Stardawn took the first step onto the staircase, then stopped as a subtle noise echoed from somewhere behind them. As one, the warriors turned.
'Just a rat,' Stardawn said. 'The ship is infested with them.'
'CassaRoc said warily, 'A rat? A living rat?'
'Not a rat,' Teldin insisted, 'alive or dead.' He started toward the wall hidden by crates. The decapitated head's message! he thought suddenly. He gritted his teeth. The entrance to the warrens is here!
'Help me with these crates,' he told them.
His friends shrugged and started forward. Stardawn came over, anger flaring on his pale elven face. 'Why do you want to find a rat?'
'It is not a rat I seek,' the Cloakmaster said. 'There is something more here. And it was no rat we heard.'
They piled the boxes against the opposite wall. Some were so old that the wood had rotted through, and they fell into dust and splinters when held too tightly. Finally, near the floor, Teldin spied what he had hoped would be here. 'Yes,' he said, 'it is here.'
With a flurry of energy, Teldin shoved the other crates and jars aside. He stood and stared for a moment as the others crowded around him.
The doors in the floor were wooden, sealing a circular entrance of some sort. Heavy boxes had been placed atop it some time in the dim past.
'In the elven warrens,' the thing told me.' Teldin glanced over his shoulder. His friends had not seen Coh's zombie slave. 'In Coh's quarters. He had a zombie head that told me Coh had come here.'
