Into the Void

Estriss knew more about the arcane than either he or Aelfred-probably more than anyone else aboard. That knowledge could be vital. In a flash of recall, he saw an attacker staggering back under the illithid's mental attack. There was no doubt that Estriss could take care of himself.

For a moment Teldin considered Rianna-her company and moral support would be more than welcome-but he quickly rejected the thought. He still hadn't told her everything about the cloak-specifically, the defensive powers it had shown in battle with the neogi, and the fact that he couldn't remove it-even though the lie of omission made him feel uncomfortable, and that's what the conversation on the Nebulon would be about. On balance, he decided it would be better to limit the participants to people who already knew the whole story.

'I'll take Estriss,' he said finally.

Aelfred nodded his acceptance. 'I'll pass the word.' He turned to go.

'Where's the boat?' Teldin asked. 'Alongside?'

Aelfred grinned. 'You'll see,' he said cryptically.

Chapter Twelve

When Aelfred had used the word 'boat,' Teldin had pictured something like the Unquenchable's longboat, or maybe a smaller version of the hammership. It turned out to be something entirely different. He and his 'assistants,' Aelfred Silverhorn and 'Bale Estriss,' took the tender in to shore, then walked through the town and out the main gate. The 'boat' was waiting for them on the wide paved road, surrounded by a flock of curious onlookers.

It was a dragonfly, Aelfred told him. Resting on its spindly legs, it looked like a larger version of Rianna's mosquito. Like the smaller ship, it was long and slender, tapering to a sharp point astern. Unlike the mosquito, it had two sets of wings: one arcing up and back over the afterdeck, the other sweeping below and almost brushing the ground. 'Minimum crew of two,' Aelfred explained, 'a good ship's boat.'

With Aelfred in the lead, they pushed through the throng of spectators-who, Teldin noticed, were standing a respectful distance from the strange craft-and approached the dragonfly. 'Aldyn Brewer and party,' the warrior called up to the deck. 'Permission to come aboard?'

'Permission granted,' a voice responded from above. A rope ladder was lowered from the main deck.

As they'd agreed beforehand, Aelfred was first up the ladder. Teldin watched the practiced ease with which the big man climbed the swaying ladder. The warrior swung himself over the rail and vanished from sight. After a few moments, he reappeared, beckoning the others to join him. 'Come ahead, milord Brewer,' he shouted. It had been agreed upon ahead of time that Aelfred would go aboard first. If the dragonfly was safe, he'd call down for 'milord Brewer' to join him. If it was a trap-and somebody had a dagger at Aelfred's back-he'd shout down for 'milord Aldyn,' warning Teldin and Estriss to get away fast.

Teldin flipped the cloak-which he'd expanded-back over his shoulders to clear his arms. He grasped the swaying ladder and began to climb. It wasn't as bad as he'd expected. He was quickly on the small boat's deck, and, equally quickly, Estriss joined him. Aelfred was forward, talking with one of the dragonfly's two crewmen. The other hauled up the rope ladder. Almost immediately the small craft was underway, lifting silently into the cloudless sky.

Teldin wanted to lean over the rail and watch the city dropping away beneath them, but he'd decided that this wasn't appropriate for the role he was playing. 'Milord Aldyn Brewer' would be used to such things. Oh, certainly, he knew he'd have to drop the pretense when he actually spoke with the arcane, but that meeting would be private if he had anything to say about it. In the meantime, he guessed that the crewmen had probably been hired by Barrab, and dropping his role in their sight would be a good way of alienating someone he might have to use again later.

To take his mind off the view he was missing, and to prevent himself from rubbernecking like the tourist he was, he looked around for somewhere to sit. He found a small bench abaft of the small ship's single mast and seated himself.

He tried to relax, but it was futile. Conflicting emotions warred within him. There was excitement-of course! If Estriss was right about the arcane, then in just a few hours he might be free of his burden. What then? A new life on Toril? Or on the Tears of Selune? Or maybe elsewhere in space? He forced those thoughts from his mind. There would be time for them later.

There was also fear. Mainly, it was the fear of disappointment, of failure. What if he somehow found out that the arcane weren't the creators of the cloak? If he found himself, now, as far-perhaps farther-from the end of his quest? He had no other clues to follow, unless you counted Estriss's theories. How could creatures who'd vanished from this corner of the universe several millennia ago free him from the cloak?

The conclusion was inescapable. He'd have to continue searching for the real creators. How long would that take? Years? Decades? His entire life? Maybe he'd never be free of the burden, free to live his own life as he wanted to live it. Maybe he'd always be controlled by the 'gift' of the dead traveler, with little more real freedom than a prisoner in chains.

That was what he feared: disappointment, yes, but so much more. He toyed with the idea of yelling to the crew to return him to the city-after all, if he didn't face the arcane, he'd never hear bad news-but knew that was just fear talking. He forced his doubts, too, and anticipation, from the front of his mind.

He looked up into the sky over the swiftly rising dragonfly. From the ground, the sky had been the delicate blue of a robin's egg. Now it had darkened to a rich royal blue. He squinted and shielded his eyes from the sun. Directly overhead was a faint speck of white, barely visible in the bright sky. Was that a star? he wondered. Yes, it must be.

It took him a moment to notice it, but the sky was darkening as he watched. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, it shaded from royal blue to a darker, navy blue, then to a rich midnight purple. As the sky darkened, the single star above grew brighter. Clearer-and somehow harder-it looked now, like a cold chip of diamond mounted in the inverted bowl of the sky. It seemed somehow nearer than any other star he'd ever seen, and it didn't seem to twinkle at all.

He glanced at his companions. Aelfred Silverhorn had finished his conversation with the dragonfly's crew member and was leaning against the gunwale rail with Estriss. The first mate caught his glance and walked over to him. 'Nice, isn't it?' the big warrior remarked. 'I think this is my favorite part of spelljamming. Just wait for the stars.'

Teldin looked up again. 'There's already one there,' he pointed out.

Aelfred looked up in some surprise, then he smiled.

'That's no star,' he told Teldin. 'That'll be the Nebulon.' As if the warrior's words had been some mystical cue, the sky faded to black and the stars came out.

Even though he'd been on Toril for only a couple of days, Teldin was awestruck once again by the stars of space. From the ground, on a clear night, he could see what seemed like millions of stars, and they seemed crisp, bright, and immediate. But the star field from space…

The difference was almost unbelievable. In the cool vacuum of the void, he could see myriads more stars than on the crispest night planetside. Every star seemed sharp, cold, clear… almost solid, as if he could reach out and touch one, pluck it from the heavens, and have it set in a gold ring, as you could any other gem of great value.

Teldin's eyes were filled with light. Even against that brilliant star field, he could pick out the one dot of light that Aelfred had told him was the arcane's ship. Not only was it brighter than any other, but it felt closer. It was bigger, too. All the other stars were dimensionless points. The 'star' that was the Nebulon was starting to show a disk.

Aelfred settled on the bench next to Teldin-at a respectful distance, as a 'business assistant' should. The big man nodded deferentially to his 'employer.' 'Have you figured out what you're going to say?' he asked quietly.

'I think so,' Teldin replied.

'You know exactly what it is you want out of this meeting?' Aelfred pressed.

Teldin was silent. That's the big question, isn't it? The simple answer to 'what do I want?' was straightforward: 'To get rid of this damned cloak.' But that wasn't the whole of it, by any means. Even if the arcane could open the clasp-and no matter how much he wanted his freedom-Teldin knew he had to confirm that the cloak was of arcane