The Radiant Dragon

'Reddish gray?' prompted Hectate. His shoulders were hunched and his wiry frame knotted with visible tension. Feeling a little unnerved by the half-elf's reaction, Vallus drifted closer.

Teldin nodded. 'Yes. That's right.'

'What is it?' Vallus hissed in Hectate's ear.

'Radole,' Hectate said quietly, though his tension did not noticeably abate. 'The world he sees is called Radole.

Merciful Ptah,' he swore in a harsh whisper. 'That means that the Spelljammer is in Winterspace.'

'Winterspace,' Vallus echoed dully. With dread he remembered the armada ghost ship. Was it possible that the Spelljammer somehow had destroyed the crew of the elven battleship? If so, what kind of being controlled the ship? If somehow the scro had gotten control of the most powerful ship in the void, it could mean the end of the elven nation. 'Are you sure it's Winterspace?'

'I'm afraid so,' Hectate replied. The horror on his face echoed Vallus's feelings with uncanny precision. Suddenly the intensity of the half-elfs reaction worried the elven mage.

'You know elven history, I see,' Vallus said softly.

Hectate averted his eyes. 'My ancestors had a part in it,' he replied.

Vallus nodded. It was possible that Hectate's elven forebears had fought in the first goblin wars. Still, the half-elfs response was a little too immediate and too extreme to be based on family history. Before Vallus could explore the matter, the cloak's glow faded and Teldin shook himself as if to dispel the effects of the magic.

'Where is this Winterspace? How long to get there?' Teldin asked, his blue eyes alight with excitement.

The half-elf considered. 'There are rivers in the phlogiston between Realmspace and Radole's crystal sphere, small rivers that are unusually fast but very hard to find. If you can catch them, a swan ship should be able to make landfall in about forty-five days,' Hectate calculated. He turned to Vallus and shrugged apologetically. 'Of course, that's just an educated guess. Not knowing whether you've made any changes to the ship's basic design, I can't say for sure what the Trumpeter could do.'

'That's going to change right now,' Teldin decreed. 'Hectate, you've just been promoted to chief navigator. I want you to set a direct course for Radole. Vallus will see that you get whatever information you need about the swan ship.'

Teldin Moore turned to the elven wizard, and a cocky smile lit his weary face, making it look almost boyish. 'Well, Vallus, I hope you don't mind taking back your insignia soon. It looks as though I'm going to be getting my own ship after all.'

*****

The Trumpeter had traveled the phlogiston rivers for several days before Teldin discovered the dracons' secret. He was rounding a corner in the lower deck when he bumped into a solid female frame. Instinctively he caught the woman's elbows to steady her and began to murmur an apology-

And stopped dead.

The woman was taller than any other female on board, slender but hard with muscle. Her hair was a sea of wavy black satin, and her pale, blue-tinted skin reminded him of cream and summer skies. Most arresting were her eyes, one of which was a typically elven shade of silver, the other an unusual shade of amber so pale it was almost gold. Her leather garments were of a quaint cut Teldin had never seen, and ancient weapons were tucked into her belt, boots, and shoulder strap.

Teldin stared at the moon elven woman for a long, startled moment. He'd never seen her on board, so he assumed she had boarded at Evermeet. Why hadn't Vallus mentioned a passenger?

His mind had barely formed the thought when his vision shifted and swam. Suddenly he saw superimposed over her lovely face a reptilian visage that looked like a nightmare rendition of Trivit's. As suddenly as it had come, the moment was gone and a moon elf stood before him, regarding him with a quizzical smile. When he did not speak, she lifted her shoulders in a delicate shrug and pulled away, gliding down the hall toward the dracons' cabin.

'A beauty, eh, Captain?' rumbled a voice next to Teldin's ear.

He whirled to face Rozloom, feeling a little sheepish about being surprised. He'd forgotten how silently the aperusa could move. 'Do you know her?' he asked, taking note of the gypsy's avid interest.

'Not yet,' Rozloom said, and his tone was both a vow and an innuendo.

'Who is she, and why haven't I seen her around the ship?' he wondered aloud.

'The woman is called Raven Stormwalker. Beautiful she is, but not friendly. And what good is beauty locked away?' Rozloom asked rhetorically, nodding toward the converted storeroom that served as the dracons' cabin.

'So you do know a little about her,' Teldin prompted.

'Only what I could make the dracons say in exchange for her food,' the aperusa said. 'She is a warrior-a sell- sword, as you say-who wishes passage to Radole. How long before we are there, Captain?' Rozloom asked with an abrupt change of mood.

'What? Oh. About forty days.'

'Hmmm.' Rozloom fingered the sachet-potion as if considering his chances. 'Is maybe too little time,' he mused.

So that was the way the wind blew, Teldin thought. 'I take it the lady is immune to your charm?' he asked.

The gypsy turned serious black eyes toward Teldin. 'Who would have thought it possible?' he marveled.

'Well, let's go meet our new passenger,' Teldin decreed, turning away before he insulted the gypsy by smirking in his woebegone face. Together they approached the dracons' door and the mysterious moon elf. Teldin's knock was answered by a long, heavy silence. He pounded again, and finally Trivit asked who was there.

'Your kaba,' Teldin said firmly. Rozloom rolled his eyes at the title but for once did not comment. Behind the door they could hear a nervous, whispered consultation. When Trivit finally opened the door a crack, Teldin pushed through and came into the cabin.

The dracons hung back, Trivit nibbling his claws and Chirp wringing his hands in a picture of prissy distress. The elven woman stepped forward to greet Teldin, however, and her odd eyes held his in a steady, compelling gaze.

'Well met, Captain Moore. I understand that I have you to thank for my passage,' she said. Teldin's surprise must have shown, for she fell back a step and gestured toward the distraught dracons. 'Is that not so, Captain? Chirp and Trivit assured me that they spoke for you when they invited me aboard.'

Teldin leveled a glare at Trivit. The dracon bit his lip, and his eyes darted between the captain and the moon elf. 'Well?' Teldin prompted. Raven smiled sweetly at the dracons.

'Yes!' blurted Trivit. 'Yes, indeed, that's the utter and absolute truth. It certainly is.' His words burst out with the force of a small explosion.

The captain bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing aloud at the dracon's fervent fib. 'Perhaps you believed you could speak for me on this matter, Trivit, but you should have checked first before bringing on a passenger,' he chided gently. 'Apart from such issues as adequate air and provisions, the elves have a right to know who's on their ship.' The miserable dracon nodded and hung his head.

'What do you plan to do with me, Captain?'

Raven's voice was low, smoky, and slightly husky, and it brought vividly to Teldin's mind both the flavor and the wallop of sagecoarse liquor. Rozloom seemed to have been similarly affected, for his sudden leer assigned her innocent question any number of salacious responses.

'You're not to blame for the dracon's misunderstanding,' Teldin said, not too sure that it was an accurate assessment of the situation.

'That's right!' Trivit shrieked in nervous agreement.

'All the same, I would like to know more about you. Please report to the bridge at three bells,' he said to the elf, naming a time about an hour away. 'You will meet with the ship's officers, and a decision will be made then. If you are to stay aboard the Trumpeter, duties will be assigned to you.'

'As you wish,' she agreed.