From space, Toril was to all practical purposes indistinguishable from Krynn. Teldin was surprised and somewhat disappointed to find this out. Both worlds were simple blue spheres streaked with irregular patterns of white clouds. From Teldin's vantage on the forecastle, Toril appeared about as big as his clenched fist held at arm's length. There was no way he could see anything through the cloud cover, no way to pick out the shapes of the seas and the continents that would prove that he was actually seeing a new world. Currently, Teldin thought, if he were feeling particularly paranoid, he could easily convince himself that the planet he was looking at was Krynn, and that the whole voyage had been some kind of elaborate hoax. Let's just sail out and back and confuse the dirtkicker. Of course, he didn't believe that, but in some ways it was an attractive concept. It would mean that what those white clouds concealed was home.
Teldin shook his head. It would be good to get off the Probe, he thought. He needed to feel real ground under his feet, see a real sky overhead. Feel the wind, taste the rain, smell growing things. While he'd lived on the farm, he'd never been consciously aware of the close bond that he felt with the world around him. It was only this forced isolation he'd experienced aboard ship that had brought this fact to his notice. Why do we have to lose something to realize we have it? he wondered. He'd noted that trait in others but was surprised to find it in himself.
The symptoms of his isolation had started subtly-vivid dreams of home, of walking through familiar woods, of hiking the hills that bordered his farm-then he'd found that his mind would sometimes wander off down strange pathways, contemplating bizarre thoughts, the one about the trip to Toril being a hoax, for example. There was never any temptation to accept these weird conceptions as real, so he didn't fear for his sanity, but he did quickly come to realize that he wasn't by nature cut out for long voyages in the claustrophobic atmosphere of a ship-even one as large as the hammership. How could Rianna stand it? he wondered. Her ship was much smaller than this one. All in all, it would be much better if he could get onto solid ground, find an arcane, get the cloak off, and be done with it. Maybe he could go home to Krynn. Or- he glanced over at Rianna, who leaned on the forecastle rail next to him-perhaps he'd prefer to make a new life for himself on Toril. One never knew….
"You look so serious." Rianna's warm contralto voice cut through his reflections. "A copper for your thoughts."
He smiled at her. "Save your money. I was just thinking how much Toril looks like… like my home. It's a strange world, an alien world. Shouldn't it look strange or alien?"
Rianna gave a throaty chuckle. "It's nor strange or alien," she chided him, "it's my home." She sobered. "I do know what you mean, though. It's… disappointing that so many worlds look alike. Of course, there are some old spacedogs who claim they can tell how the continents are laid out by looking at how they disturb the clouds, and so claim that all worlds look different to them."
"I can't believe that."
She laughed again. "Neither can I, but I'm sure the stories are good for a few pints at dockside taverns."
They sank back into a comfortable silence. Over the last several days, Teldin and Rianna had spent more time together. It was nothing extreme and didn't even seem to be purposeful on either of their parts. It was just a matter of taking opportunities that came up-and, Teldin had to admit, being more conscious of such opportunities. Whenever the two of them met, at meals or while wandering the ship when neither had the watch, they'd take the opportunity for brief chats. These talks were just enjoyable ways of whiling away some time. They'd rarely touch on anything of much significance, preferring to keep the exchanges light. It was obvious to Teldin that Rianna enjoyed his company, and he knew that their impromptu discussions were generally the brightest parts of his day. It was impossible to deny that a warm friendship was developing between them.
Or, more correctly, between Rianna Wyvernsbane and Aldyn Brewer, Teldin thought somewhat bitterly. Since Rianna's crippled mosquito had first been spotted, he hadn't shown his real face, even when alone in his cabin. The Probe's officers were very careful to refer to him only as "Aldyn," and the way things were working out, the hammership's crew had less and less reason to refer to him at all.
The growing relationship-if you could call it that-didn't go unnoticed. When it comes to such things, after all, even the largest ship is very small. The retinue of male crew members that had been following Rianna around the ship began to tail off in number. While she was still considered by far the most beautiful and alluring female aboard ship, it was generally accepted-at least according to the gossip that Teldin heard-that she'd made her choice as to the man with whom she wanted to spend her time. With anyone else, that might have led to some uncomfortable, jealousy-fueled confrontations. In Teldin's case, however, the crew seemed unwilling to provoke an incident with the warrior-mage who now wanted to be called Aldyn. Envy and jealousy did still appear, but in the harmless forms of generally shunning Teldin and not talking to him unless absolutely necessary-which, Teldin found, was just fine with him at the moment.
The Probe's officers were a different case. Rianna seemed to have totally won them over-particularly Sylvie, it seemed. Teldin had frequently seen them in private tete-a-tetes. Now the half-elven woman was quite likely to shoot Teldin knowing-and somehow sly-glances whenever they met. Only Julia seemed to feel anything less than total friendship for the blond woman, and that, Teldin decided, was merely jealousy. While the red-haired officer was attractive in her own way, she definitely paled in comparison with Rianna.
Aelfred and Estriss seemed to view the whole thing with what could only be called paternal amusement-which Teldin found patronizing but was unable to complain about. The illithid had reminded him that it was still a good idea to maintain his new identity, no matter how he felt to the contrary. Aelfred's only comment had been that "Aldyn's" face looked great, but that he hoped the illusion was as good all over his body-this said with an expression of studious innocence.
Teldin wanted to argue about the whole thing. He enjoyed Rianna's company, and apparently vice versa, but that's all it was. Not even friendship, really, just close-acquaintanceship, if there were such a word. He well knew that it'd do more harm than good to argue the point. Oh, well, what did it matter? He was enjoying himself at the moment, and he might be nearing the end of his quest, if Estriss was right about the arcane.
Estriss. That was another interesting issue. Rianna had been aboard the Probe only a couple of days when she'd marched onto the bridge-so said Aelfred-and demanded to see the captain. She'd figured out that the captain was keeping himself hidden, she'd explained, and had concluded it was because he wasn't human or demihuman. Was he a lizard man? she'd asked. Or maybe an illithid?
Aelfred had been surprised, but admitted to Teldin that he'd also been quite impressed. He'd immediately arranged a meeting between Rianna and Estriss, wondering if the woman would handle matters as well when she met the "brain-sucking monster" face to face. If he'd been expecting any show of fear, he'd been disappointed. "She carried it off perfectly," the first mate had told Teldin, "greeted Estriss politely, then started asking if 'the honorable captain' ever had any need for a message-runner." The big man had chuckled deep in his throat. "I'm coming to like her a lot."
"Not too much, I hope," Teldin had replied.
*****
Neither Teldin nor Rianna were on duty as the Probe spiralled slowly down toward the surface of Toril. There was nobody on the forecastle, so they'd taken it as their private viewpoint.
As they'd drawn closer to the planet, and-presumably-as the Probe's navigator picked the course that would best take them to Rauthaven, the cloud cover had thinned beneath them. Now Teldin could look down through patchy white clouds. There was water below them, water of an almost breathtakingly pure blue. Here and there was a flash as sunlight reflected off waves-at least, that's what Rianna assured him the glints were. From this vantage point, Teldin found he had no way of judging their altitude, and hence no way of estimating the size of the body of water below them. It could just as easily be a small lake or a great ocean. He remarked on that to Rianna.
"It's the Great Sea," she told him. She pointed. "See that island? That's Nimbral, called the Sea-Haven. Rauthaven's near the southeast tip."
Teldin moved closer to her so he could sight down her arm. In fact, he could pick out the island she was referring to, but why pass up on an opportunity like this? he thought. Her shoulder was warm against his chest as he lowered his head to sight down along her arm. He took a quiet breath, enjoying the subtle smell of her.
She nudged him playfully. "See it?"
"Oh, there" he responded in feigned surprise. Her laugh told him she knew what he was doing, and-more importantly-that she, too, enjoyed their closeness. "So that's where we're going."
"That's it," she confirmed. "Of course, you won't see the city itself until we get much lower."
Even though she'd lowered her arm, Teldin felt no great desire to move away from her. She leaned in a little more against his chest. After a moment's hesitation, he slipped his arm around her waist and let his hand settle on the point of her hip. She made no movement to pull away or remove his arm. "Where were you born?" he asked, more to simply hear her voice again than from any need for the information.
She laughed softly. "Sorry, I can't point it out to you," she said teasingly, "we can't see it from here. It's called Waterdeep, on the Sword Coast, a long way away."
"But you've been to Rauthaven."
"I've been a lot of places. My father traveled a lot, and then I followed in the family tradition."
"What did he do, your father?"
She shrugged, and he felt strong muscles shift under her soft skin. "He was a merchant, I suppose you'd say," she replied. "But, like me, he dealt more in information than hard goods. There are always people willing to pay to have their messages delivered without having to trust to wizards."
"You're a wizard, too, aren't you?" Teldin remarked. "You've got to be to pilot a ship, don't you? Unless you're a priest…"
Rianna laughed out loud. "Oh, I'm no priest, Aldyn Brewer," she told him. "Yes, I'm a wizard, but not much of one, just enough to fly my ship. I learned it young. It didn't take me long to realize that the world's full of creatures that would like nothing more than a nice, harmless messenger for even-feast. Magic's an equalizer, and I always like to have an equalizer." With the suddenness that Teldin had come to expect from her, she changed the subject. "You're with this ship but not of it, at least that's how I read it," she said. "How come you're going to Rauthaven?"
Teldin didn't hesitate. Since their first meeting in the officers' saloon, he'd taken the time to work up a good background story and the answers to the questions Rianna-or anyone else-was most likely to ask him. He didn't have to like it, and he didn't, but he recognized it was necessary-for now, part of his mind added. "I need to meet with an arcane," he told her smoothly. "Estriss tells me there's likely to be one around because of the auction. You know about the auction?"
"Yes, he told me. Why an arcane? What do you need with one of them?"
Again Teldin had an answer ready. "That's what I've been hired to do," he said. "My principal-the one who's paying me-needs me to pass a message on to one of the arcane, and that's what I'm going to do."
Rianna accepted that with a nod, and Teldin knew he'd guessed right in his prevarication. Someone whose livelihood lay in trading messages and information would consider the "mysterious employer" as a normal condition, and as a sacrosanct trust.
As the two had spoken, the Probe had slipped lower into the atmosphere. The world below had changed, unnoticed, from a section of a sphere to a flat plane that was for the first time truly below the vessel. As the viewpoint had changed, features had expanded and retreated, to be lost by distance and curvature. The southeastern tip of the island had expanded until it filled almost the entire view beneath the Probe. It continued to expand, too, bringing home to Teldin just how fast the ship was descending. The scattered clouds that had been just streaks overlaying the distant landscape were suddenly great islands of fleecy white, fantasy landscapes that could in tales become the homes of pegasi or dragons. The ship then plunged into one of the drifting islands, and everything was white. Teldin felt moisture on his face. Tendrils of mist whipped past him.
With breathtaking suddenness, the ship was out of the cloud and the view was clear again. They were much lower now, perhaps not much higher than the tallest mountain. The peninsula had vanished. There was just an indented coastline, roughly straight for as far as he could see in either direction.
There was no farmland, he noticed with some surprise. Did that mean that all the food necessary to support a city was shipped in from elsewhere? It wasn't that the region was barren; in fact, it seemed like it would make excellent farmland. Everywhere was lush and green, like the tended private parkland of a noble-except that this private park stretched from horizon to horizon. There were regions of uninterrupted greenery that could only be woods. At one point a thin line of green meandered through grasslands to reach the sea-a river lined with trees; it could be nothing else. The land was beautiful here, Teldin thought. There were much worse places for a man to settle down and make his living. Perhaps after this business with the cloak was finally concluded, he could buy himself some land here and be happy. Of course, where would he get the money? Ah, well, he told himself with a grin, burn those bridges when you come to them.
Rianna took his shoulder and pointed. The Probe had continued its spiral approach and was now on a different heading. While he'd initially been looking to sea, Teldin was now gazing inland. He was still unsure about the scale, but he guessed that the parkland extended five miles or so from the coast. Then, suddenly, the flat landscape changed. Rising out of the plain like walls were rugged, tree-covered hills. There was no hint of foothills. It looked almost as though the hills had just been placed randomly in the midst of arable land. Okay, let's set one down here, he could imagine one godlike workman saying to his fellow. The hills probably weren't that tall, he thought, but the contrast with the surrounding terrain made them look much higher. What would it be like to live at the foot of one of those? he found himself wondering. Claustrophobic? Or would you eventually get used to it and just not notice anymore?
He turned to Rianna. "Who delivered the mountains?" he asked jokingly.
She laughed in reply. "If they want to compete in my business, I'm getting out of it."
The ship continued its slow spiral, dropping lower and lower with each turn. Teldin found himself looking at the coastline again, but now he was close enough to the ground to see the narrow white-sand beaches that lined the ocean. From here it looked as though the parkland came within a hundred feet or less of the water, then there was a low cliff-it was difficult to tell how high, because of the foreshortening effect of the ship's altitude-dropping down to a narrow strand, then the ocean. From this angle it wasn't the pure blue he'd seen from higher up; it had taken on a deep, almost metallic green and had gentle wrinkles like the marks of hammer blows on the forged steel of a plow blade. He could make out here and there the white froth of waves breaking on the sand.
Rianna squeezed his shoulder again and pointed forward.
There was the city, Rauthaven, a walled port town built around the circumference of a small bay that made for a perfectly sheltered harbor. Breakwaters extended from both sides of the bay's mouth, closing the entry into the harbor down to a narrow passage. There were watch towers at the extreme ends of the breakwaters, and Teldin imagined that in time of war chains could be drawn across the passage. The harbor itself looked packed with ships; vessels ranging from tiny fishing boats to coasters to ships-of-the-line swung at anchor, seemingly at random.
The city itself rose up the sides of the low hills that surrounded the bay. Once more altitude made it difficult to estimate sizes, but Teldin thought that the buildings were generally small and the streets wide and spacious. The larger of those streets radiated outward and uphill from the harbor like the spokes of a wagon wheel. Narrower streets followed generally concentric curves around the harbor. Around the city's walls, however, this sense of order broke down. The harbor was roughly circular, but the outlying regions of the city were much more irregular. For example, the city extended farther along the coast to the northwest, which put the harbor nearer the southeast end of the town. The buildings got larger as you headed northwest, until the largest of all were atop the low hill-with, no doubt, a spectacular view down into the harbor. Those would have to be the homes of the noble families, or whoever it was who governed the city, plus the richest of the merchants, Teldin thought.
In his travels, Teldin had seen a few cities, but nothing to rival Rauthaven in beauty. Krynn cities generally looked like jumbled assortments of buildings, some stone, some wood, tossed together with no kind of overall plan. Architectural styles warred and colors dashed. Here, even though they varied in size, all of the buildings seemed to share one architectural style, leading to a sense of harmony he'd never experienced before. The colors, too, were consistent. The vast majority of the buildings had white walls, with sloping roofs of what could only be red tile. As he watched, the sun came out from behind a cloud and the city practically glowed. He felt the breath catch in his throat. Again he found himself thinking, I could live here.
The Probe had changed course again and was now heading out to sea. This only made sense, Teldin reasoned: There was no space for the hammership to land within the harbor, and the natives might get a little nervous about a strange flying vessel heading straight for them.
Now there was an issue. He turned to Rianna. "Are they likely to shoot at us?" he asked.
Her reply was a chuckle. "Only if we do something untoward," she elaborated. "Believe it or not, Rauthaven gets a considerable share of Toril's spacefaring traffic. Mostly that's
because the whole of Nimbral is much more open to magic, and to things that would be too strange for the rest of Toril. It's also got a lot to do with its sheltered harbor. Spelljamming ships are built for space, even those that can land on the water-like this one-and they don't do well in heavy seas. So when you put one down, you want to get it into a snug harbor, and right quick, too."
"How are we going to land?" Teldin asked. It was interesting. In all the conversations he'd had on spelljamming with Estriss, Aelfred, and the others, this was one topic they'd never touched on.
"It depends on the harbormaster," Rianna replied, not quite answering his question. "The lookouts will have spotted us by this time, and the harbormaster will be giving us our instructions on wind direction and speed, where we should drop anchor, that kind of thing."
"Give us orders? How?"
"By flags. And-" Rianna pointed over the rail to the harbor that was now below them "-there they are."
Teldin leaned over the rail, but not too far. While they had been in space with, presumably, uncounted millions of miles to fall, he'd felt no sense of vertigo, but now that they were only a thousand feet up, he felt an uncomfortable stirring in the pit of his stomach.
Rianna seemed to sense his discomfort and had the perfect cure for it. She leaned into him again so the sides of their bodies were pressed together from knee to shoulder. Teldin, not surprisingly, found he no longer noticed his vertigo. Rianna pointed again.
He sighted along her arm. At the innermost point of the harbor, directly opposite the passage through the breakwater, was another watchtower-like structure-presumably the harbormaster's office or whatever served its function in Rauthaven. From this angle, he could easily see a tall flagpole atop the building. A string of small, brightly colored flags extended the entire length of the pole. All except the uppermost were similar to the signal flags he'd seen used in the army. In pride of place atop the string was a larger flag that bore a red device-from this height, it was impossible to make it out- on a field of green. No doubt this was the flag or ensign of the city itself.
Teldin tried to read the message in the flags, using the code he half-remembered from his military service, but got only gibberish. They must be using a different code. The only information he could glean from the message was that the wind was blowing from the west-and this solely from the direction the flags were fluttering. "What do they say?" he asked.
"Wind from the west, ten knots," Rianna told him. "We're told to identify ourselves." She looked back over her shoulder. "Look," she said, "we're answering."
Teldin turned, too. On the main deck, several crewmen were running a string of flags up the hammership's mainmast.
"They say we're the Probe" Rianna translated quickly, "registered out of the planet Parcelius."
Teldin looked again at the harbor below, fascinated by the efficiency of this silent conversation. As he watched, the harbormaster's flags were brought down and another string run up the staff. He looked to Rianna for the translation.
"We're approved to land outside the harbor," she told him, "and to anchor at… Well, they're coordinates. I'd have to have a harbor chart to know what they meant."
Teldin turned to watch the Probe's reply. There was none; the crewmen on the main deck just took the flag string down. There was some movement on the sterncastle, though. Two crew members were mounting a short jackstay on the aft rail. When it was secure, they trailed another, larger flag from it. Teldin recognized it to be the same design as the lowermost flag in the Probe's recent message. He tapped Rianna on the shoulder and pointed it out, his expression questioning.
"It's the Parcelius ensign," she told him. "Laws of the spaceways are like those of the sea. You always run up the ensign of your home world at the stern, or your home port if it has its own ensign. If you're being formal, you really should run up the flag of your destination at the bow or on the mainmast, but most people aren't too picky about that. If you do much traveling at all, your entire cargo capacity's going to be taken up with flags," she concluded with a chuckle.
The hammership turned slightly more to the northeast, out over the ocean now, and continued to descend. For the first time, Teldin could see whitecaps on the waves below. The ship was only a couple of hundred feet up, he guessed. Then the big vessel maneuvered again, pointing its bow into the westering sun. It decelerated gently and swept lower still.
Aelfred Silverhorn's head popped into view. He climbed the ladder from the bridge below and spared the two a broad smile before he took his place at the forward rail. "Raise port and starboard fins!" he bellowed.
On the main deck, crewmen threw their weight on lines that led out to the four triangular sails extending out and slightly down from the hammership's hull like the fins of a shark. As they pulled, the sails folded upward until they stood vertically against the gunwales.
"Dead slow," Aelfred called. "Prepare for landing."
The Probe slowed still more and dropped lower. They were now no more than fifty feet above the wave caps, Teldin saw. Forty feet, thirty… Aelfred had ordered "dead slow"-and, compared to the hammership's top speed, that's how fast they were going-but watching the waves whip by underneath, Teldin realized the Probe was still moving about as fast as a running man. The sensation of riding something as big as the hammership this fast, this low, was exhilarating… and terrifying. He could easily imagine the vessel slamming into the water hard enough to snap its keel, breaking it apart into quickly sinking fragments.
Ten feet, five… The first crest slapped against the bottom of the hull. "Brace for landing," Aelfred called back. He was grinning from ear to ear. Teldin took a solid grip on the rail and noticed that Rianna had already done so and was braced in a wide-legged stance.
The ship touched down with a roar of water pounding against the hull. The deck surged hard beneath Teldin's feet, almost breaking his grip on the rail. Curtains of spray, catching the light like countless diamonds, arched high on both sides of the vessel, then fell back with a hiss. A fine mist of chill water washed back over the forecastle. The Probe was down.
"Helm down," ordered the first mate.
The hammership slowed quickly. Looking aft, Teldin could see the broad white wake that the ship had left. He walked forward to join Aelfred and looked over the bow rail.
The hammership rode low in the water. The waterline appeared to be about level with the main deck itself, which gave the vessel very little freeboard, particularly in the bow itself. Teldin remembered Rianna's comment: spelljamming ships are built for space. Even with his minimal knowledge of things nautical, he recognized that the slightest storm would swamp the hammership and send it to the bottom.
Aelfred, still grinning, pounded him on the shoulder. "Exciting, eh?" he enthused. "I live for that."
Teldin nodded halfheartedly. "Fun," he said without conviction.
The motion of the ship had changed, Teldin noticed. To be precise, now the ship had motion. Except during the most drastic maneuvers, or when the ship struck something, the Probe in space had felt as solid and motionless as Krynn itself. Now, however, the big ship was rolling slightly with the waves, which were striking it abeam. This was another problem with spelljamming vessels when they were out of their true element, he realized. Their stability was dreadful.
Something else had changed, too. For the first time, he could feel a cool, salt breeze on his face. As the Probe had soared in for its landing, the air on deck had been totally still. Now that the ship was virtually at rest, a steady wind blew across its bow from out of the west. He mentioned it to Rianna.
"Of course," she answered. "When the helm goes down, so does the atmosphere envelope." His face must have shown his confusion, because she grinned. "Atmosphere envelope, that's the bubble of air the ship takes with it into space. When the helm's operating, the ship keeps a bubble of relatively still air around it even when it's in the atmosphere of a world… generally speaking, of course."
Teldin nodded intelligently, trying to pretend that he understood even half of what Rianna was saying. Suddenly, without warning, his stomach twisted uncomfortably. What? Oh, no… He couldn't be seasick, could he? He took a deep breath of the sharp sea air, stretching his lungs to the limit. The nausea lessened a little. He breathed again, trying to ignore the motion of the deck beneath his feet.
Aelfred must have recognized his plight, because the big warrior remarked, "It's worst when we're at rest. She's much more stable when we're underway." He turned aft and bellowed, "Sea sail up."
Crewmen swung into the rigging and started hauling up the large sail reserved for ocean maneuvering. The big ship heeled slightly as the west wind filled the canvas. Ropes complained as the rigging took the strain and the boom swung to expose the maximum sail area. Waves slapped against the hull.
"Hard a-port," Aelfred ordered. "Bring us in."
The Probe turned its blunt bow southward, toward the port of Rauthaven.
It was evening, and the sun had set perhaps half an hour before. The Probe swung gently at anchor-under the star now, rather than among them-in the crowded inner harbor of Rauthaven's port. Lanterns burned at bow and stern and atop the tall mainmast. Around the ship was a swarm of other such lanterns. It was too dark to discern the shapes of the ships that bore them; all that could be seen were the points of yellow light. It was as though some god had taken a constellation from the sky and brought it down to earth, Teldin found himself thinking. He stood on the main deck, leaning on the port rail, gazing toward shore.
Rauthaven itself was another constellation of lights: braziers to keep the city watch warm through the chill nights; open windows of cozy homes and snug taverns, spilling their welcoming light into the streets; and here and there a moving spark that had to be a lantern mounted on a carriage. From this angle, down in the harbor surrounded by the hills of the city, Teldin could make out no definite horizon, no demarcation between city and sky. The scattered lights of the city seemed to blend imperceptibly with the scattered stars. If he ignored the motion of the ship, the night wind on his face, and the smell of the sea, Teldin could almost make himself believe that he were back in space.
In fact, part of him wished that were true. Where had that thought come from? he wondered. At first space had been a dangerous unknown, and his greatest desire had been to get back to the safe, planet-bound life that he knew. Now, however, part of his mind equated space with safety, while Rauthaven-and Toril as a whole-was the dangerous unknown. Why? After all, wasn't he now near the end of his quest? If he could find an arcane and discharge his obligation to the dead owner of the cloak, he'd be free to live his own life again, as he saw fit. Why wasn't he welcoming landfall on Toril as the penultimate step in freeing himself from his burden?
When he phrased the question that way, the answer was obvious. What if he found out that the arcane weren't the creators of the cloak and were as helpless as the gnomes of Mount Nevermind when it came to removing it? This entire trip would have been a wild-goose chase. Worse, where would he go from here? Instead of the end of his journey, Rauthaven could turn out to be just the first step in a much greater one. It just didn't bear thinking about.
That, he knew, was why he found himself wishing he were back in space. On the journey, he'd enjoyed the anticipation of solving the problem. Now that he was here, there was a very real possibility that he didn't have the solution. He found that he was deeply afraid of finding that out. Stupid, he thought, it's like hiding from a messenger because you're afraid he might be bearing bad news. Stupid, maybe, but the feeling was very real. He shook his head hard, trying to banish the thoughts, the doubts.
There was somebody approaching across the main deck. He strained his eyes through the darkness. He could barely make out the shape of a man about his own height but more lightly built. As the figure drew closer, Teldin could discern the face.
The man's features weren't familiar at all; Teldin didn't recognize him. How can that be? he asked himself. There are no strangers aboard ship. It could be one of the new crewmen the Probe had acquired from the neogi deathspider, he supposed, but he thought he'd met all of them. Who was this stranger? For the first time, he felt the stirring of fear. His hand dropped to the hilt of his short sword.
Say your hand. The words formed directly in Teldin's brain. There was no mistaking that mental voice.
"Estriss?" Teldin gasped.
The figure before him smiled-or, at least, it was probably intended to be a smile. The lips drew back from the teeth, but the expression looked clumsy, somehow artificial.
It is I, the mental voice confirmed. You are not the only one with access to shapeshifting magic.
"How?"
A hat of disguise, the illithid answered. I purchased it long ago for times such as these.
"What do you mean?"
Humor tinged the mind flayer's words. Even in a city such as Rauthaven, those of my kind are not overly welcome. People react with fear, and fearful people are unlikely to give me the information I need. So the charade. To those of Rauthaven, I am Bale Estriss, collector of antiquities… and sadly, a mute who can only communicate by writing notes.
Teldin nodded in understanding. Clever, he thought. That way the illithid wouldn't have to use his telepathic abilities.
I found you to discuss plans, the mind flayer went on. I must find out what I can about the upcoming auction. A boat will be coming to ferry me and some others in. Do you still wish to make contact with an arcane?
"Definitely," Teldin replied.
Estriss nodded. While I am abroad in the town, I promise to make what inquiries I can. As I told you before, there are no guarantees, but it seems to me very likely that there will be at least one arcane in Rauthaven.
"Good." Teldin thought for a moment. "Maybe I should go into town myself."
I would advise you not to do so, the illithid replied quickly. You do not know this city.
Teldin was surprised to realize he felt a little miffed by the mind flayer's quick rejection. "Do you?" he shot back.
Estriss hesitated, and Teldin knew he'd guessed right. Not well, the illithid answered slowly, but I do have experience in finding my way around unfamiliar worlds, while you do not The mind flayer's mental tone changed. I apologize, he said. I have offended you, and that was not my intention. My only excuse is the proximity of the auction, which is so important to my work. Will you accept that my concern is for your safety?
Teldin knew that what Estriss was saying only made sense. There was nothing Teldin himself could do, abroad in Rauthaven, that the illithid couldn't do, perhaps better. He nodded.
The disguised Estriss laid a reassuring hand on Teldin's shoulder. I am glad. I should be only an hour or two. Hopefully, when I return, I will have news.
*****
According to the ship's bells, Estriss was ashore for little more than two hours. To Teldin it seemed much longer. In an attempt to pass the time, he went below and chatted with Horvath and Miggins. The two gnomes had come up with a complex replacement for the Probe's sea sail, one that they said would nearly double the ship's speed on the ocean. They'd mentioned it to Aelfred, they told Teldin, and the first mate had given them permission to rig a prototype… if they supplied all the materials themselves and if they made no permanent modifications to the hammership's rigging without Aelfred's express authorization. The gnomes were so excited that Teldin couldn't tell them his interpretation of the big warrior's behavior. Teldin was convinced Aelfred saw this as a way to keep the gnomes busy and out from underfoot.
After that, he'd spent a comfortable half-hour chatting with Rianna in the officer's saloon. The woman had easily sensed his tension but had shown the sensitivity not to question him about it. Instead, she'd kept the conversation superficial.
No matter how much he counseled himself to patience, Teldin was almost vibrating with tension when he saw the small, open tender that did ferry duty around the harbor approaching. With a quick explanation to Rianna about business matters, he hurried up on deck.
"Did you find out anything?" he asked as soon as Estriss was aboard.
I certainly did, the illithid replied. His mental voice was filled with excitement. The auction takes place early the day after tomorrow, at the Merchants' Rotunda, a central meeting place. We were lucky to arrive in time. I have heard further descriptions of some of the items to be included, and they certainly sound like the artifacts I want. This is the perfect opportunity I have waited for. The illithid's magically disguised face smiled clumsily at Teldin. If you wish to attend with me, you would be most welcome.
"Well, yes," he said slowly, "that's good, but about the arcane… ?"
The disguised illithid looked at him in puzzlement for a moment, then realization showed on his features. Of course, he said hastily, my apologies, I forgot. Yes, there is known to be one arcane who will be attending the auction as well. His name is "T'k'Pek." The illithid spoke the name aloud, exaggerating the clicking consonants. I'm sure you can speak to it tomorrow at the auction.
Teldin shook his head. "No," he said firmly, "I need to speak to the arcane in private, preferably before the auction."
Estriss hesitated. I doubt that will be practical.
"Estriss," Teldin said sharply, "this is important. Where's the arcane staying in town? I can arrange a visit." Teldin was somewhat surprised by his own decisiveness, and both Estriss's and Aelfred's reactions confirmed that it was a shock to them.
T'k'Pek is not staying in Rauthaven, Estriss answered. I understand that he will remain on his ship, in orbit around Toril, until the time of the auction.
"Where in orbit?"
The illithid shrugged. In his disguised form, the gesture looked a lot more natural. No one has told me. I would expect that no one knows.
Teldin turned to Aelfred. "Can we look for it?"
Aelfred glanced uncomfortably at Estriss. Teldin could tell what was going through his mind: Estriss is officially captain of the Probe, and the first mate must abide by the decisions of his superior. Strictly speaking, this couldn't be Aelfred's decision. "We could, I suppose," the burly warrior said slowly. "Theoretically we could, but finding it's another question again. Compared to a planet, a ship's a very tiny needle in a bloody big haystack. If you don't have any details on altitude or the orientation of the ship's path, it can take days."
Teldin found himself grinding his teeth in frustration. He was so close: too close to fail now. He turned to Estriss. "The Probe is your ship," he said, keeping his voice as unemotional as he could. "Would you allow this?"
It was the mind flayer's turn to pause uncomfortably. There may be no need, he said after a moment. As is typical with the arcane, T'k'Pek conducts most business through a representative-a factor, if you will-in Rauthaven. This mm is called Barrab. It should be possible to make contact with him… The mental voice trailed off uncertainly.
"Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" Teldin demanded.
It may be of no help. The words that formed in Teldin's mind held a tone of complete candidness. If the arcane has seen tit to employ a representative, it will probably be because he does not want to deal directly with others. The factor's job, then, will be to prevent the kind of contact that you seek.
"You may be right," Teldin admitted, "but I have to try."
Doing so would draw attention to you, Estriss pointed out. It would expose you to risk, and risk the loss of-he glanced around furtively, even though there were only the three of them on the forecastle-of that which you must protect.
"I have to try," Teldin repeated stubbornly.
Estriss was about to object, but Aelfred cut in with a snort. "The lad's right," he said firmly. "This is important, for several reasons. I know it's a risk, but look. I'll go along with him, maybe take another crewman." He smiled down at Teldin. "We'll keep you out of trouble. Where's this Barrab staying, 'Bale'?"
The illithid shrugged again, this time in resignation. He stays at tie Edgewood, on Widdershins Street.
"Good." Aelfred turned back to Teldin. "We can go at once if you like. If the ship can't do without me for a few hours, we've got the wrong crew."
Gratitude toward the first mate-his friend-swelled within Teldin's breast, but he knew that thanks would just embarrass the big warrior. With an effort, he kept his emotions out of his voice. "At once would be… convenient," he said.