The Broken Sphere

spelljamming helms, for passage devices, for countless other technomagical products. Our monopoly was hard- earned, and we will do what is necessary to maintain it.'

'The cloak…' Teldin started.

'The ultimate helm is of little importance in isolation,' T'k'Ress cut him off. 'We sell other items that provide all of the powers of your cloak, except one.'

'The Spelljammer,' Teldin breathed.

'Of course, the Spelljammer.' T'k'Ress nodded. 'From what I have learned of the ultimate helm, it gives you an ability that should allow you to locate the Spelljammer. Further, I believe it will allow you to take control of the great craft should you so locate it.

'And that is what I cannot allow,' the arcane continued, not the slightest trace of emotion disturbing its voice. 'There are great secrets aboard the Spelljammer. Perhaps knowledge of how to create spelljamming helms, and passage devices, and planetary locators. Perhaps knowledge even more advanced-more valuable-than that.'

Realization dawned. 'You're afraid I'm going to go into competition with you,' he said, aghast.

'Were you to enjoy a monopoly such as ours, would you not fear the same?' T'k'Ress wanted to know.

Teldin shook his head slowly. He couldn't believe it! All this-all this effort, all these deaths-merely to protect the arcane's market dominance…

But there was nothing 'mere' about the arcane's universe-spanning network. They were the only source of spell-jamming helms. How many did they sell a year, on all the worlds, in all the crystal spheres? Thousands, millions? Say, just for argument, ten thousand major helms a year, at a going rate of… what, two hundred and fifty thousand gold pieces? That represented two billion, five hundred thousand gold pieces per year flowing into the arcane's coffers. And that didn't include such relatively minor peripherals as passage devices and the rest, which, no doubt, netted the race another paltry few millions…

And all that wealth stemmed from the fact that the arcane held the monopoly on the ability to create such- what did T'k'Ress say? Technomagical?-devices. He could suddenly understand how the blue giants might consider a threat to that monopoly worthy of much effort to avert.

Still, it sickened him. There seemed something… base, something ignoble about it. Wasn't it more-'acceptable' wasn't quite the right word-to fight, to kill, to die, for a cause more honorable, more based in principle, than profit? Take the War of the Lance, for instance. Large portions of Krynn had been laid waste, but didn't it matter that the cause was worthy?

Not to the dead. The thought bubbled up from some dark corner of his mind. He remembered those he'd known who'd died in the war. Did it matter to them why they'd died?

With a disgusted shake of his head, he focused back on the arcane before him. Now wasn't the time to worry about philosophical digressions. 'What if I told you I had no interest in breaking your monopoly?' he asked T'k'Ress.

The creature's thin lips drew back from the solid, bony ridges that served it as teeth, a disgusting expression that Teldin guessed it had learned from humans. 'I might believe that you tell the truth for the moment,' T'k'Ress said, no hint of humor in its voice, 'but trust that you tell the truth for all time? Thai you would never consider it? No.' It shook its head. 'I could never trust so much.'

Djan spoke up for the first time. 'If you'd won,' he asked quietly, 'if you'd defeated Captain Moore and taken the cloak, would you have donned it yourself?'

T'k'Ress's tiny eyes opened as wide as they'd go in an expression of almost ludicrous surprise. 'I?' Still, none of the creature's emotion sounded in its voice. 'Never. The benefits might be high, but the risks and costs would almost certainly prove higher. Where would be the benefit to me?' It gave its strange, twisting shrug again. 'Perhaps eventually I could find a way of realizing a profit without risking the monopoly, but it would take much thought.'

'Tell me how you planned to acquire the cloak,' Teldin told the arcane.

'You already know.'

'Tell me,' the Cloakmaster snapped.

'As you wish,' T'k'Ress said mildly. 'I tried to block your research into the Spelljammer on Crescent. When that failed, I hired Berglund to intercept you.'

'What was that nonsense about Falx?' Teldin demanded.

The arcane spread its long hands. 'It seemed unwise to tell a hireling the truth,' it explained, 'lest he should fail… as he did. Had he succeeded, I would have met his ship en route to Falx and taken my prize at that point. As it was, you perhaps spent energy in preparing to counter a threat from a direction where no threat existed.

'In all honesty, I did not expect Berglund to succeed,' T'k'Ress confided. 'You were, by all accounts, an innovative man and a skilled ship's captain. It would be foolish to trust to a single stratagem.'

'So you put spies-saboteurs, murderers-aboard my ship,' Teldin growled.

Unaffected by the Cloakmaster's anger, T'k'Ress nodded. 'Dargeth and Lucinus, yes. Dargeth was a mage with a mind of great subtlety, one of the finest dissemblers I have ever met. Lucinus, too, was a fine operative.' The creature raised its hairless eyebrows in interest. 'What fate did they meet?' it asked incuriously.

'During the battle they tried to escape,' Djan answered. 'Their guards were forced to kill them both.'

Teldin knew that the half-elf was telling the complete and utter truth, but the arcane obviously didn't believe him. Not that it mattered one whit to the creature, the Cloakmaster could see by its expression. He felt anger, hatred, burning in his chest.

'What happens now?' T'k'Ress asked quietly.

That was the question, wasn't it? But as soon as the question was posed, the answer appeared fully formed in his mind. 'We maroon you here aboard the Boundless,' Teldin told him coldly. 'We take your ship.'

'Aboard the squid ship?' For the first time, the Cloakmaster could hear alarm in T'k'Ress's voice. 'Is it not crippled?'

'Not totally.' It was Djan who answered. 'It's dead in space for the moment, but you should be able to repair it… eventually.'

'But the helm-'

'Should be functional,' the half-elf cut T'k'Ress off. He grinned fiercely, his expression echoing Teldin's emotions. 'If not, you should be able to repair it, shouldn't you? It's part of the arcane monopoly, after all.'

'But…' T'k'Ress looked worried now. 'But I sell helms-'

It was Teldin's turn to cut him off. 'You don't repair them, is that what you're trying to say?' He smiled coldly. 'I'm afraid you're not going to find me too sympathetic.'

'Berglund and the mercenaries will not wish to go along,' the arcane pointed out desperately.

'Then it's up to you to make them, isn't it?' Teldin snapped. 'You'll recall my colleague has a crossbow pointed at your large blue head. And you can be dead sure he's not going to set it down until you're all safely aboard the squid ship and we've pulled away.'

T'k'Ress studied Teldin's face. 'Would you really kill me?' it asked, its voice a high-pitched whisper.

'After all of his friends you've killed? What do you think?' Djan shot back.

Teldin kept his face expressionless, pleased that the half-elf's answer had really been no answer at all. That's my weakness, he thought grimly. Could I order Djan to put a crossbow bolt into the arcane's head, just like that? And would he obey? The trick, then, was to maintain the bluff so strongly that T'k'Ress wouldn't dare call it.

The arcane was silent for a moment, its small eyes-shiny, like small, polished stones-studying Teldin's. Then it dropped its gaze and looked away.

It has its answer, Teldin thought. Let's hope it's the right one.

T'k'Ress looked up again. 'And as for you?' it asked Teldin. 'You will continue to pursue the Spelljammer, will you not? Where will you go?'

Teldin hesitated. Why not tell it? he asked himself, with a rush of frustration. It's not as if I really know anyway. 'To the center of all,' he said, 'between the pearl clusters. Down the secondary eddies of the paramagnetic gradient.'

Something changed in the arcane's eyes-a flicker of recognition, of understanding. It knows, the Cloakmaster