The Radiant Dragon

hit it with every spell you can summon before it gets close.'

Yet there was no attack. The ships came to a halt as soon as they'd surrounded the swan ship. The Trumpeter's crew stood by and waited, but the goblinkin showed unusual patience. After a time most of the elven crew drifted to the upper deck, their worried eyes flitting from one orc ship to another.

'Why don't they do something?' an unnerved Trivit wondered, nibbling at his claws. He and Chirp again flanked Teldin, ordered to his side by a vigilant Celestial Nightpearl. Teldin was becoming accustomed to having large green bodyguards.

'Maybe they plan to drop some of those creatures on us and watch the fun,' Teldin said in a voice intended only for Vallus's ears.

The elf s face turned gray at the very thought, but he shook his head firmly. 'They know you are on the ship, Teldin Moore. They would not be likely to risk the destruction of your cloak.'

'Captain?'

The unexpected bass voice behind him made Teldin jump, and he turned to face Rozloom. With the threat of battle before him, he had forgotten about the traitorous aperusa.

'I wish to help,' the gypsy declared.

Teldin hesitated. They certainly could use every fighter they could get, but-

'It might be safer to keep him out of the way,' Vallus commented, echoing Teldin's thoughts.

'Oh, let him stay,' Chirp said. 'The aperusa could be of great assistance if we are boarded. The moment an enemy turns his back, Rozloom could stick a knife in it,' he suggested with bitter sarcasm. The dracon glanced at the goblin ships. 'Will we be boarded, do you think?' he asked Teldin.

'They probably expect us to surrender,' Teldin observed.

With such a massive show of force, it seemed a reasonable assumption.

Rozloom nodded in avid agreement. 'That would be the sensible thing, Captain,' he said, earning himself scathing glares from both dracons.

'To surrender is to die,' Vallus said simply. 'When the scro conquered the world called Bondel, they systematically tortured and murdered the elven population. Their goal is the destruction of the elven people.'

In that moment Teldin made his decision, and he turned and headed for the bridge. 'Then let's make them work for it,' he called over his shoulder in ringing tones. Surprised and strengthened by his answer, the elven crew responded with a cheer and hurried back to their stations. The dracons unceremoniously hoisted Rozloom between them and tossed him down the steps to the deck below, loudly suggesting that he occupy himself in the galley, baking cream puffs.

Teldin relieved the elven helmsman and seated himself in the chair. As he did, the captain told Quon to shoot at anything he thought the swan ship might hit. The weapon master flashed Teldin the peculiar, distinctively elven salute, and his eyes were fever-bright in his tattooed face. Teldin's cloak quickly became a mantle of brilliant pink light, and, as his will became motive force, the Trumpeter shot forward with incredible speed.

The swan ship hurtled toward one of the larger orc ships, a patchwork scorpion equipped with pincers that looked a couple of sizes too large for its hull. The moment the swan ship was within range, Quon fired the fore ballista. The giant bolt shot forward, tearing through the insect ship's left shoulder and into the claw machinery. The left claw drooped, useless, to the ship's gravity plane, and the weight of it tipped the ship dangerously to one side. orcs on the upper deck tumbled overboard.

Before the surviving orcs could react, Teldin abruptly pivoted the ship in a tight, fast circle, bringing its tail catapult to bear on another scorpion. Chirp and Trivit immediately sent a load of Om's spiked bolas hurtling toward the ship. The scorpion took only minor damage, but the dracons had no time for a second shot. The swan ship already was hurtling out of weapon range.

A familiar, whistling whine began approaching the swan ship, and in response the door to the captain's cabin flew open. Pale and far too thin from his long, drug-induced sleep, Hectate made his way unsteadily to the rail where the battle wizards gathered.

'The bionoid ships have a weakness,' he said, speaking quickly in a race against the invisible, approaching shrike ship. 'They've replaced the forecastle ballista with a magical crystal eye-can't explain that right now. A direct hit should make a magical backlash big enough to destroy the ship.'

'How can we aim at something we can't see?' one of the wizards demanded.

'They'll hover over the deck so the bionoids can drop-'

'And the cloaking device might shut down when a ship comes to a halt,' Vallus broke in. He eyed the half-elf with new respect, and his expression did not falter when Hectate abruptly transformed into his monstrous insect form.

The shrike ships whistled by, then began their circling approach, slowing as they prepared to drop the deadly warriors. Vallus looked inquiringly up into the bionoid's large frontal eyes, and Hectate nodded his insect head. The dorsal plates on the bionoid's armored chest folded back, and the membrane beneath began to glow with magical red light. At the same time, the wizards began the complicated gestures that summoned fireball spells.

When the first shrike ship came into view, a bolt of energy burst from Hectate's chest. The ball of red light scorched along the shrike ship's long, pointed beak and hit squarely between its domed forecastle windows. The red glow spread over the entire shrike ship, enveloping it in a crackling field of energy and holding it quivering in its grip. The elves braced for the explosion, but the shrike ship burned far too rapidly for that. To their astonishment, the ship blackened and collapsed into a cloud of fine ash. The destruction of the shrike ship took place so quickly that the other bionoid ships had no time to react. When the second and third shrike ships came into view, the elven wizards released a barrage of fireball spells. Some flew harmlessly off to fizzle in the blackness of wildspace, but one managed to hit its mark. A second ship disappeared into smoke and ash, which drifted with the ship's momentum to cover the deck of the swan ship and the unconscious form of a reluctant, half-elven hero.

'Return Hectate Kir to the captain's cabin,' Vallus ordered. 'He'll need a day's rest.' Two of the wizards immediately stooped to do his bidding against a whirling backdrop of stars. The swan ship was making another rapid retreat. This time, however, the third and final shrike ship darted after it in furious pursuit.

The bionoid ship did not risk coming to a hover. Barely slowing its flight, it dipped low over the swan ship. Enormous weapons dropped from it and clattered to the deck, and several bionoid warriors leaped out after them. Five of the monstrous insects managed to land, tucking at the last moment and rolling to their feet with fluid, athletic grace. The sixth was less fortunate: it missed the ship entirely. Flailing its spiked arms, it floated outward toward wildspace and death. The surviving bionoids snatched up their halberds and formed a battle circle.

'Trial by champion.'

Hectate Kir's hoarse whisper echoed in the unearthly silence. He gently pulled away from the elven wizards who supported him and made his way slowly over to the invaders.

'You know our battle codes?' one of them asked Hectate in feminine, incredulous tones.

'Name your champion,' the half-elf replied, his voice a little stronger this time.

'I am Ronia, captain and ranking officer of Clan Kir,' the female replied. Her huge black head dipped slowly as her multifaceted eyes looked Hectate over. 'But I cannot accept an honor challenge from such as you. You're a half-elf.'

'As are you,' Hectate said softly.

There was a hiss of anger from the bionoid warrior. She spun her halberd in a quick circle, signifying her readiness for battle, and the wicked blades at each end of the staff caught and tossed back the starlight in a gleaming arc.

'Weapons?' she snapped.

'Halberds,' Hectate replied, holding out a hand to another bionoid. The creature slapped the enormous weapon into Hectate's palm, and the half-elf staggered a bit under its weight. He quickly rested the tip of one blade on the ground and balanced the thick staff with both hands.

'Terms?' Ronia's voice was inexorable.

'Victory by survival.'

She let out a bark of laughter. 'Of course. Conditions?'

'If I am slain, you avenge the deaths of Soona, Wynlar, Tekura, Enester, and Zeddop. If you die, the rest of the battle clan will withdraw with honor, leaving the swan ship and its crew unharmed.'