The Radiant Dragon

Teldin didn't answer, staring upward in disbelief as the small craft veered sharply from its path, making a suicidal lunge directly for the swan ship's long, curved neck. Twin bolts of light, magic balls of incredible power, burst from the shrike ship's forecastle and hurtled forward. The balls of force hit the bridge tower with an explosion of magical power and splintered wood. Teldin watched helplessly as the severed top half of the tower plummeted toward the deck, shattering boards and pinning several members of the elven crew. The shrike ship dove straight through the opening it had made and continued on its frenzied, circling path.

'They got the bridge,' Vallus said in disbelief.

'And the helm,' Teldin noted grimly. The ship was essentially what it appeared to be: a beheaded swan. The crew would be every bit as dead if he didn't act quickly. Teldin doubted there would be time to get up the secondary helm before the battle began.

In response to the crisis, his cloak began to glow, its pale sunrise pink signaling its spelljamming magic. Teldin felt his awareness growing, spreading to every part of the wounded ship. He could see the elves hurrying to rescue their fellows, Deelia Snowsong bending over a wounded elf as her tiny, pale hands forced a dislocated shoulder back into place. He saw Rozloom taking refuge under a stout table in the galley. Suddenly he could feel the ship itself, as if wood and iron were no more than a continuation of his own bone and sinew. Soon he would be the ship, and his untended body would be exposed and vulnerable on the deck, despite the bionoid protector that now loomed over him.

. 'Vallus, you've got to take command. I'm going to take the helm,' Teldin said in a faint, faraway voice, and he gathered up a handful of the luminous, pale fabric. 'This helm.'

The elf shot a glance at Teldin, and his eyes widened at the sight of the glowing cloak. A mixture of comprehension and wonder suffused the wizard's face, and he gave Teldin a quick nod. As Teldin turned to leave, he couldn't resist adding, 'Watch yourself, Vallus. Stay close to Hectate, and you'll be safe.'

The elf's eyebrows rose, and he turned quizzical eyes toward Hectate Kir. He recoiled in shock and horror. In the shadow of the stairwell where the half-elf had just stood was a ten-foot, muscular insect holding the halberd in a guard position as it watched the shrike ship slowly circle in for another pass. The Change had overtaken Hectate silently and instantaneously.

Teldin slapped Vallus's shoulder. 'There's something you should know about Hectate,' he said casually, then he turned and left the wizard alone with the bionoid fighter. While he was still able, he pushed open the door that led to his cabin.

No sooner had Teldin disappeared than the shrike ship slowed to a hover directly over the Trumpeter's deck. Three enormous creatures leaped from it to land nimbly on the swan ship's deck, creatures identical to the one hidden in the landing behind Vallus.

Everywhere on deck the elves froze. All had heard stories of battles the bionoids had fought and won for the elves in the first Unhuman War. No one had the faintest idea how to fight against such creatures.

The bionoids, standing shoulder to shoulder and armed with huge swords or pikes, were a daunting sight even to the battle-hardened elves. Vallus shot a glance over his shoulder, half expecting to see a treacherous halberd swinging at his neck, but Hectate, in his bionoid form, still stood guard.

One of the creatures stepped forward and spoke into the silence. 'We have come for the human. If you turn Teldin Moore over to us, we will leave peaceably.'

In response, Vallus swept an implacable, narrowed glare across the immobile elven crew. 'Attack,' he said simply.

The battle that followed was ghastly. The elven crew fought with bravery and skill, but they fell so rapidly that the dead and wounded piled around the bionoid band. Two other bionoid ships closed in, and each ship discharged two more of the fearsome creatures. The light emanating from their crystal eyes bathed the deck with a reddish glow. Some of the bionoids battled the elves; others seemed to be searching the swan ship.

In his cabin, now fully taken up in the spelljamming magic of his cloak, Teldin's expanded senses took in the battle with a growing sense of horror. If Hectate alone had destroyed dozens of the mind flayers' slaves when in his bionoid form, how could the Trumpeter's crew stand against the bionoid invaders? If there was a way the creatures could be overcome, perhaps Hectate would know it.

Like a hawk circling a meadow, Teldin's magically enhanced vision searched the ship for his friend. The bionoids, however, were eerily identical, and Teldin was not sure he could recognize Hectate when he found him.

One of the bionoids fought at the head of the stairs, barring the way to the lower decks and to the captain's quarters, and its flashing halberd held off two of the invaders. Teldin's instincts told him with unerring certainty that Hectate lived within the creature.

As Teldin watched, one of the invaders leaped, a spiked foot kicking out with lightning speed. The Hectate bionoid apparently anticipated the move, for he nimbly sidestepped and circled upward with the staff of his halberd, catching the attacker behind the knee. A quick twist threw the creature off balance. It landed heavily, and Hectate was upon it instantly. He planted one enormous foot on the creature's back, pinning it to the deck, then he hooked the curved blade of his halberd under a plate of insectlike armor and wrenched his weapon back toward him as if it were a giant lever.

A horrible cracking sound rent the air as the bionoid's armor gave way, followed by a woman's scream of unbearable anguish. Hectate's enormous body shuddered, but he quickly plunged the blade of his halberd deep into the opening. Ichor puddled on the deck, and the red light faded from the fallen bionoid's crystal eye. With a creaking groan the creature's body began to compact, for in death it reverted to its elven form.

As if from a great distance, Teldin noted that the fallen bionoid had become a tiny, red-haired elven woman with a huge, gaping wound under her left shoulder blade. Teldin saw his monstrous friend slump, and he felt Hectate's grief and despair as if the emotions were his own. He knew with certainty that Hectate had known the bionoid he had just slain, and known her well.

The second bionoid advanced, its enormous sword held out before it, and Hectate halfheartedly raised his dripping halberd into a defensive position. The creature came closer, but it did not attack. Its insectlike head tilted to one side, giving it an oddly quizzical air.

'Hectate? Hectate Kir, can that really be you?'

The creature spoke in a woman's voice, a voice that was soft, intimate, and full of longing. It sheathed its sword and stepped forward, massive hands reaching out and up as if to cradle Hectate's bionoid face. Hectate's weapon lowered reflexively.

At the last moment, the creature's fist smashed into Hectate's vulnerable crystal eye. Teldin's bionoid friend slumped as if lifeless to the deck.

'No!' Teldin screamed. A second keening cry escaped him, only to be lost in an explosion that shook the swan ship to its keel. With effort he forced aside his grief to attend the ship. Again he slid his expanded vision over the elven vessel.

The Trumpeter's stern had been damaged almost past recognition. One of the bionoids had loosed a spell, taking out the swan ship's rear catapult and sending the heavy machinery crashing to the lower level. The blasted bodies of elven crew lay amid shattered boards and smoking debris.

To Teldin's surprise, the invaders abandoned the fight as abruptly as it had begun. One after another, the shrike ships dove in, hovered, and threw down boarding ropes. Within moments the bionoids were gone. All of the bionoids; try as he might, Teldin could not locate Hectate anywhere on the ship. The klicklikak faded from sight, and the shrike ships darted off into wildspace after it.

Teldin took inventory of the ship's wounds. The bridge was gone, and with it the lookout tower and the primary helm. Their heavy weaponry had been destroyed. The Trumpeter was without eyes, power, or defenses. They had to put down for repairs, but they still were many days from Radole.

He sought outward for a solution. Below them was a world, a tiny gray sphere streaked with white. From this distance, it looked very much like his last glimpse of his native Krynn. With sudden resolve, Teldin sent the swan ship into a rapid descent.

Vallus Leafbower burst into Teldin's cabin. His silver hair was disheveled and the shoulder of his uniform had been slashed open. His once-proud tabard was stained with blood and ichor. 'What in the gods' names are you doing?' he demanded.

'Landing,' Teldin murmured. 'We're landing.'