Into the Void

grandfather's voice savin his mind. 'Practice so you can do it anywhere, anytime.' He wondered what his grandfather would think if he knew his teachings were being taken out of this world? 'Ready,' he answered Horvath flatly.

Horvath nodded, his eyes still closed. 'Oars, quarter roll to starboard.'

Miggins and Dana shifted their oars, as Teldin twisted on the thwart to face astern. The smooth wood of the crossbow was cool in his hands, its weight somehow reassuring. Once more the universe did its disconcerting pirouette around the longboat, and the wasp ship rose above the gunwale like an evil, angular moon. The pirate ship was close now, no more than a good dagger cast from the longboat, virtually point-blank range for the ballista mounted in the pirate vessel's bow.

Somebody was readying that weapon now, cranking fast on a windlass, winching back the thick bowstring. The wasp was close enough for Teldin to make out the pirate's loose-fitting white shirt, even the red bandanna holding his hair clear of his face. Teldin lifted the crossbow and jammed the curved butt into his left shoulder. He was almost certain this was wrong- he was 'crossing his weapon' or something-but that was what seemed most natural.

'Sight along the quarrel,' Miggins called to him. 'Steady, and pull the trigger.'

Teldin closed his right eye. He tried to line up the uppermost feather on the quarrel with the pirate crewman, but he couldn't hold the weapon steady. He tightened his grip on the wooden stock, but still his hands trembled. Once more he took a deep breath, stretching his chest to its fullest extent…. held,… then exhaled, blowing out with the air his tension and fear.

He sighted again. This time the weapon was steady as a rock and the quarrel's fletching bisected his target. He hesitated, wondering at the sudden sense of calm he felt. Tension was gone; he was like the weapon he held: solid, cold, dedicated totally to its purpose. He was a weapon. For a fleeting moment he felt as though this crystal clarity, this focus, might be somehow external to him, something enforced upon him from the outside, then he discarded the thought as meaningless. He was as he was.

The pirate had winched the ballista's bowstring fully back and was wrestling the heavy bolt into place. Teldin took another breath, let out half of it, and fired.

The crossbow jerked against his shoulder, but he hardly noticed. His time sense seemed to have changed. He could easily follow the quarrel's flight as it flashed across the intervening distance and buried itself in the base of the pirate's throat. The gunner's mouth opened in a death scream, but Teldin thankfully couldn't hear it. In a final convulsion, the pirate lurched backward, a flailing arm striking the ballista's firing lever.

The huge bow's limbs slammed forward, but there was no bolt in place, nothing for the bowstring to push against, nowhere for all that energy to go. When the bowstring reached the limits of its normal travel, momentum kept the limbs rocketing forward. Teldin watched in amazement as the ballista literally tore itself apart. He lowered the crossbow from his shoulder. The intense focus of just a moment ago had vanished, and he had to squeeze the weapon painfully tight to control the shaking of his hands.

'Dry-fired,' Dana muttered. Then, reluctantly, she added to Teldin, 'Well shot.'

Teldin nodded. He felt no pride in his performance, even though he had to admit it was an amazing shot. There must be gods who watch out for novices like me, he thought. Next time he'd be lucky if he didn't shoot himself.

'We're not clear yet,' Horvath said quietly. 'They've still got the speed on us, and they've probably got other weapons aboard. Teldin, I'll take us up, over the top of them. I want you to pick off the captain. Can you do that?'

No! he wanted to shout, I can't. Don't depend on me. I'll kill you all. But, 'I'll try,' was all he answered.

'Good,' Horvath acknowledged. 'It should be no harder than the last shot. Fine shooting, by the way. You impress me, dirtkicker.' Before Teldin could respond, the gnome shouted his orders. 'Oars, loop us back, and another quarter roll to starboard. Now'

Dana and Miggins shifted their oars drastically, and the longboat maneuvered in response. This time, Teldin could feel the turn, an uncomfortable disorientation originating in his inner ears. The rapid wheeling of the stars didn't help, nor did the fact that the wasp was now above the longboat… and that Teldin was looking down onto its deck. He took another cleansing breath and concentrated on readying the crossbow for another shot.

'There he is,' Dana yelled, 'on the port rail. Get him!'

Teldin saw the man she meant, a tall figure with shoulder-length black hair. As the wasp swept by overhead, he snapped the crossbow to his shoulder. That same cool stillness came over his mind again as he brought the weapon to bear. For an instant, his gaze locked with that of the pirate captain. The man had eyes the gray of a winter sea. Teldin pulled the trigger.

The quarrel flew true… but at the last moment the captain flung himself backward. Razor-sharp steel grazed the man's cheek, then the missile buried itself deep in the wasp's port rail. In his peripheral vision, Teldin saw a flash of swift movement….

And Miggins cried out. The longboat lurched and rolled, taking the wasp out of sight beneath the hull.

Miggins sprawled against the gunwale, clutching at his right shoulder, while his oar waved wildly. Crimson spread across his jerkin from where the shaft of an arrow protruded from his flesh. The longboat lurched again.

Reacting instinctively, Teldin dropped the crossbow and scrambled over the thwarts toward the oarsman. Miggins was trying to sit up, but seemed unable to find the strength. Teldin reached out to help him, but stopped. How badly was the boy injured? Would moving him make it worse?

The young gnome looked up at him with pain-glazed eyes. 'It hurts, Teldin,' he said dully. He tried once more to sit up, moving his oar as he did so. Again the longboat lurched, pitching Teldin against the gunwale.

'Take his oar,' Dana shouted.

Once more, Teldin felt anger spark within him. 'He's wounded,' he roared at her.

'He'll be dead if you don't do it,' assured Horvath, 'and so will we.' The calm tone of the older gnome's voice was unchanged.

A sharp rebuttal sprang to Teldin's lips, but then the anger within him died. The gnomes were right. As carefully as he could, he moved Miggins from the thwart-the youth was almost as light as a child in his arms-and took his place. He grasped the oar and felt it slippery with Miggins' sweat. 'What do I do?' he asked.

'Unless I tell you otherwise, watch what Dana does,' Horvath said, 'and do just the opposite. She moves her oar up, you move yours down. She moves hers forward…'

'I move mine astern. I understand. I'll try.'

'That's all we can ask. Dana, half roll. If we want to avoid the wasp, we've got to see it.'

The woman snorted. Maybe she didn't agree with Horvath, Teldin thought, or maybe she just enjoyed snorting. Either way, she lowered her oar. Teldin raised his, trying to match the angle exactly. The stars swung, and the pirate ship came back into sight. It was astern again, but its heading matched that of the longboat, and it was much closer, a massive, asymmetrical shape with its missing legs and damaged wings looming in Teldin's field of vision. A cold fist seemed to squeeze his heart as he realized how fast the ship was closing. 'Ramming!' he cried. To his own ears, his voice sounded like a croak, as though somebody were choking him.

'I know,' Horvath replied. 'We have to wait for the right moment. Teldin, when I say, bring your oar astern. Hard, do you understand me?'

'I understand.' Where was that calmness he'd felt only a minute ago, Teldin wondered. There was certainly no sign of it now.

'Ready…' Horvath's voice sounded detached, disinterested. 'And… now.'

Teldin threw his weight on the oar. Beside him on the thwart, Dana did the same. The longboat turned sharply just in time. Silently-and the huge shape's movement was all the more terrifying for that-the wasp soared by to port, so close that Teldin felt he could almost touch one of its tattered wings.

As the vessel passed, his sense of balance swung and pitched the way the stars had done only moments before. His stomach lurched with vertigo, and he clung to his oar to counteract a sudden, terrifying sensation of falling. It was over in a moment as the universe seemed to right itself, almost fast enough that Teldin could believe he'd imagined the whole thing, but Horvath was shaking his head in discomfort; he'd obviously felt something too.

'Gravity effect,' the gnome muttered. 'We passed through their gravity field. That was close. Now, center