The Broken Sphere

grimly. He let his disguise slip away, let his body return to its normal form. The time for secrecy was past.

He saw the expressions on the faces of his crew-bewilderment, shock, but, most of all, relief coupled with renewed confidence. They've got their captain back, he told himself. He felt a flush of pride. Sword at the ready, he stepped forward and tried the door.

Predictably it was secured-latched from the inside, maybe secured in other ways, too. He hesitated, feeling a faint, almost subliminal tingle from the door handle. Magic? Was the cloak allowing him to sense magical energy now? Why not?

He stepped back. 'I think the door's been magically sealed,' he announced.

Djan raised an eyebrow. 'By who?' he asked. 'Neither Lucinus nor Dargeth is a mage…' He smiled mirthlessly. 'They didn't tell us that they were mages, but then they didn't tell us they were saboteurs and murderers either. So, how can we counter if'

Teldin felt rage flaring within his chest. May the gods damn them to the Abyss! he thought. Saboteurs. Murderers. He felt his lips draw back from his teeth in a snarl.

He felt the cloak around his shoulders resonate with his anger-felt the cloak's power feed the rage, and vice versa. His fury swelled in his heart, moving like a live thing, with its own will and desires-like the thing he saw in Beth-Abz's mouth in the dream, he recalled, a bloody, writhing thing fighting for relief. Never had he felt anything like this before, this sensation that his rage was somehow independent of him, with its own distinct existence. That it could burst from him if only he let his guard down…

And why in the hells not? he demanded. He felt a growl nimble in his throat. The power of the cloak flared through his bones and sinews, pulsing in time with his racing heart.

Gods damn you…! With a wordless yell, he thrust with his sword toward the door, as though he were about to run it through. The power of the cloak virtually exploded within him, channeling down his arm and through the sword blade. With a thunderclap, an invisible bolt of force struck the door, shattering it from its hinges and driving it into the compartment beyond, to slam against the forward bulkhead. Ears ringing from the noise, Teldin leaped into the doorway.

Part of the door had slammed into Lucinus, knocking the halfling off his feet and stunning him. Dargeth was unharmed, however, his face twisted with mixed fear and anger. The half-orc pointed a finger at Teldin's chest and muttered a harsh phrase under his breath. Four tiny projectiles, burning like coals, burst from his fingertip and flashed across the intervening space, unerringly heading for their target….

They struck the Cloakmaster in the torso… almost. A finger's breadth before they touched his flesh, a scintillating curtain flashed into existence to block the missiles. With a hiss, they vanished.

Dargeth's eyes widened with shock. He scrabbled for his belt pouch-going for the material components of a more punishing spell, Teldin knew.

'No!' The Cloakmaster snarled. He raised his sword, sighting along it almost as though it were a crossbow. The power of the cloak pulsed and throbbed through him, seemingly eager to lash out again if he released it. 'No,' he repeated.

He could see-almost feel-the thoughts racing through Dargeth's mind. He saw him reach his decision. The half-orc flung the contents of the pouch on the floor and raised his empty hands. 'Don't kill me,' he gasped. On the deck next to him, the dazed-looking Lucinus pushed his own sword away and raised his hands as well.

'You miserable devil-kin bastards,' Teldin growled. His pulse pounded in his ears as the power thundered in his heart and mind. He could kill them both, he knew. The power was there, at his fingertips-more amenable to his control than it had ever been, as though the strength of his emotions somehow refined the link between him and the cloak. It would be so easy, not so much an act of will as the relaxation of will. He felt himself grinning and knew the grin was terrible….

'No, Teldin.' Djan's gentle voice sounded from behind him. He felt a gentle touch on the shoulder; he felt the half-elf's presence, his concern. He felt, also, his determination. 'No, Teldin,' he said again, his voice quiet, but still filled with force.

The point of the sword started to tremble. He's right, Teldin knew, but… I owe them death. For Julia, for Dranigor, for the rest.

'Let it go, Teldin.'

The Cloakmaster took a deep, quivering breath and lowered the sword. He saw Dargeth and Lucinus relax minutely as they realized they might live a little longer. He turned away in revulsion. 'Guard them,' he said tiredly. He stepped out of the compartment into the companionway and leaned against the wall for a moment while his racing pulse slowed somewhat.

I almost killed them, he told himself. I almost set myself up as judge, jury, and executioner in one, pronouncing sentence and carrying it out without any hesitation. He'd never realized he had that capability for swift retribution; and now that he knew, he recognized he'd have to struggle to keep it forever in check.

'Ship ahoy!' The yell echoed down the ladder from one of the lookouts on deck.

In the turmoil of his showdown with Dargeth, Teldin had forgotten what the two saboteurs' actions had to mean. Now realization flooded back. 'Battle stations!' he yelled, and he sprinted up the ladder.

'Ship ahoy!' the forward lookout repeated when he saw Teldin on deck. He pointed. 'High on the port bow, collision course and closing fast!'

Teldin looked in the direction the crewman indicated.

There, silhouetted against the dull red glow of Garrash, was a shape like a spiral shell, tapering at the bow to a lethal point: an illithid nautiloid. Its piercing ram was aimed directly at the squid ship.

Chapter Thirteen

'Battle stations!' Teldin yelled again, and heard the pounding of feet as the crew leaped to their stations.

Djan was beside him in a moment, taking in the tactical situation in a glance. 'Load ballistae,' he barked, 'but hands off the catapult.'

Teldin nodded. He'd forgotten about the new sabotage.

'They think you're dead.' The first mate spoke quietly, for Teldin's ears alone. He gestured at the approaching nautiloid. 'They think all the helmsmen are dead.'

Of course they did, the Cloakmaster thought. That was the purpose of the fire set in the hold-not to threaten the Boundless, but to provide a smoke signal to the illithid vessel that the squid ship was dead in space. Smart, very smart. May the gods damn them to the Abyss forever.

Brutally, he suppressed his anger. He had to think clearly if he and his crew were to survive.

AH right. The nautiloid crew might think the Boundless was dead, but it wasn't, not while the Cloakmaster lived. He drew a deep, calming breath and let himself feel the cloak around his shoulders. He let his thoughts merge with the ultimate helm.

Then he was the squid ship. He could feel its grievous damage, the rents in the hull blasted by the dying beholder, the cracks in the keel, and the ripped and shredded rigging, only partially repaired. He frowned. It was as Djan had told him soon after Beth-Abz's death: the ship could sail- slowly-but it was in no shape for a fight.

That left Teldin with a difficult choice: push the ship to a speed high enough to guarantee escape from the approaching nautiloid, and risk tearing the Boundless apart, or keep to a speed that wouldn't kill the ship, and risk getting blown out of space by the illithid vessel. He sighed. Well, there was no way of telling which was the best course until he'd tested the ship's responses. He extended his will and felt rather than saw the cloak glow with power.

The Boundless surged forward. Teldin gasped with pain as he felt the cracked keel shift, threatening to tear apart. He backed off on the acceleration slightly, as he started to maneuver the ship to bear away from the attacker. Although his wraparound perception still let him see the nautiloid, most of Teldin's attention was focused on the squid ship's internal condition. Thus it was Djan who spotted the next development. 'They're firing!' he screamed.

Projectiles-three massive ballista bolts, plus a catapult missile-hurtled through space at the squid ship. Quite