So the rest of the voyage passed. Fifty-three days from Krynn they reached the crystal shell that contained Realm-space. So inured to the wonders of space did Teldin find himself that he didn't feel disappointed when he learned that they'd pass through the shell during his sleep period. When he went to bed for his fifty-third night aboard the Probe, the view through the cabin's porthole was the tempestuous colors of the flow. When he woke several hours later, the cabin was dark for the first time in week and there was blackness on the other side of the port. Teldin swung himself out of his hammock and went on deck.
The sky around the hammership at first looked identical to the familiar one that he'd seen all his life: velvet blackness studded with stars shining with a light that looked somehow brittle. After a few moments, though, the familiarity slipped away. The orientation of these stars was nothing like what he was used to. There seemed many more of them, clustered into totally alien groupings. The constellations that had been his friends from childhood were nowhere to be seen, and his mind was unable to impose any order on the stars that he saw. Over to the port side, just over the rail, was something that he'd never seen before: a smoky haze, glowing faintly. When he looked at it directly, it seemed to fade away, but when he looked at it with peripheral vision, he could make out a kind of structure to it.
That structure was familiar, he realized with a mild shock. It reminded him unmistakably of the weather pattern he'd seen over Krynn as the Unquenchable pulled away from the planet. There was the same circular core, with curving arms sweeping out from it. The only thing that was missing was the sense of motion that the storm had given him. Maybe it was the black, featureless background, or the motionless stars that surrounded it. In any case, the sensation that this pattern gave him was one of limitless distance. The Probe's crew had told him that it was no more distant than the other stars, but that both the stars and this swirling shape were actually gates to another plane-the Plane of Radiance-set into the inner surface of the crystal sphere. No matter what he knew, he felt that this spiral pattern was unimaginably farther than the other points of light.
For the first time, Teldin noticed that there was someone else on the deck-someone who was watching him with an expression of mild amusement. It was Vallus Leafbower, the elven mage, one of the Probe's helmsmen. Teldin shot him a quick smile but hesitated to walk over and join him. There were two reasons for his reluctance: One was that he was enjoying the sense of solitude, of being alone beneath the unfamiliar stars; the second was the same reason he'd been avoiding the elf since the battle: Vallus obviously was a mage of significant power. As such, he might be more inclined to question Teldin about his own displays of ability. While the other crew members had avoided the topic-at least partially out of fear, Teldin guessed-Vallus wasn't likely to do the same.
Teldin's reticence turned out to be irrelevant when the elf crossed the deck and joined him.
Vallus nodded a greeting. Even when he was making efforts to be friendly, Teldin had noted, there was a sense of aloofness about the elf, a feeling that he was somehow apart from everyone and watching from some unapproachable vantage of knowledge and wisdom. There was also a strong sense of exclusivity-that was the closest word that Teldin could come up with-a sense that the elf wasn't revealing everything he knew or thought.
Perhaps it was just a consequence of the fact that he'd lived ten years or more for each year that Teldin and the others had been alive. Whatever the reason, it had a chilling effect on any sense of friendship that Teldin might otherwise feel, and made it very difficult for him to trust the elf.
Vallus spoke first. "I noticed you weren't on deck when we entered this shell," he remarked. "Unfortunate. You missed something, something that you would have found fascinating." His eyes seemed to shine with intensity. "We saw the Wanderers," he concluded in a hushed voice.
There was something portentous about the word, something that struck some kind of chord in Teldin's soul. "What ate the Wanderers?" he whispered.
"As we passed through the portal, we saw them," the elf answered, "a line of figures-a geometrically straight line,. hundreds of thousands of figures long. Perhaps millions long. They were walking on the inner surface of the crystal shell. Walking, walking endlessly. They paid us no attention."
Teldin shook his head in wonderment. "Why?" he asked. "What are they?"
The elf shrugged. "No one truly knows," he replied. "There are legends, of course. Some say their marching, and their silent chanting, are what allow spontaneous portals to open in the shell of Realmspace. According to this legend, the Wanderers are the souls of individuals who died performing evil deeds of horrific proportions. How they came to their present condition, even the legends fail to say, but they all are reputed to bear the mark of Torm, God of Guardians, on their palms." Vallus shrugged again. "Whatever their origin, or their purpose, it was a wondrous sight." He smiled wryly. "Such things make me realize how much poorer my life would have been had I never left my home world."
Teldin was silent. There was something about the image of an endless line of figures, eternally trudging around the surface of the crystal sphere, that caught his imagination. Without warning, he found his thoughts turning to his father. How small your world was, he thought, how impoverished you were by your refusal to look outward. And, he added, how bleak would my own have been if it hadn't been for the circumstances that drove me outward. For a moment, he felt almost gratitude toward the stranger who'd given him the cloak. You might have doomed me, his thoughts ran, but you also broadened my horizons in ways I could never have imagined. Even if I die soon, my life is richer for my experiences.
"I think that you enjoy the sky of wildspace as much as I do," the elf continued, unaware of Teldin's musings. "There seems something of purity about it, doesn't there? A sense of perfection, of changelessness. Do you know the constellations of Realmspace, by any chance?"
Teldin shook his head.
"No, I suppose not. That, over there-" he reached out with a slender hand and traced shapes among the stars "-is the Harp. That, the Sword and Dagger. And that is the new constellation, the Lady of Mystery."
Teldin glanced over at the elf. "How can a constellation be new?" he asked.
"Of course the pattern itself is as old as any," the elf explained with a half-smile. "The meaning has changed, that's all. Once it was two constellations, the Dragon of Dawn and the Firbolg, but after the Time of Troubles, many inhabitants of the Realms decided it would be best to devise a constellation to revere the new goddess, the Wounded Lady. Do you know the story?"
"No," Teldin admitted, "but maybe…"
"Maybe another time, yes." The elf turned and pointed forward. "Do you see that bright star, just over the forecastle?"
Teldin looked where Vallus indicated. "Yes."
"That's Realmspace's primary, called-predictably-'the sun.' And that-" he pointed to another dot of light, nowhere near as brilliant as the first but still brighter than the other stars "-is Chandos, one of the giants of the Realmspace system, some seven thousand leagues across. For comparison, your own world is perhaps one thousand leagues across, and Toril is about the same. Do you realize that Chandos is about nine million leagues from us? And yet its light is almost enough to rival the sun. How can we not feel insignificant in the face of scales such as this?" He shook his head in wonder. Teldin shrugged his shoulders but said nothing. The universe might be huge, he found himself thinking, but most of it seems to be eager to make sure my stay here isn't as long as I'd like. "How long to Toril?" he asked eventually. "Another thirty days, perhaps," the elf answered casually.
He must have seen Teldin's expression of astonishment, because he chuckled. "Yes, it surprises me, too, at times. We traveled from one crystal sphere to another in, what, thirty days or so? Then, once we're within our destination sphere, we have to spend another thirty days to reach the planet we're interested in. Somehow it seems all wrong, but you should understand: There are rivers that flow in the phlogiston, rivers that can greatly increase one's speed if one's navigator is good enough to find them. Sylvie is one of the best. Once within a shell, there are no rivers, and even the smallest sphere is immense. Again, when it comes to understanding the universe- as with so much else-perspective is all-important. Wouldn't you say?"
With that, Vallus strolled away, leaving Teldin to his own contemplations.
***
The Probe was eighteen days inbound from the crystal sphere when the derelict ship was spotted. The hammership had, two days before, made its closest approach to Chandos, and the huge blue-green world was shrinking astern.
Teldin was leaning on the sterncastle rail, gazing out past the ship's stem spanker sails. Even at this distance, the great water world was an impressive sight. It had none of the dramatic hues of Zivilyn in the Krynn system, none of the great clashing bands of color. Instead, it was a study in subtle gradients as blues shaded imperceptibly into greens. The planet displayed an unbelievable range of intensities, from royal blues so deep they were almost purple to greens so faint they could almost be gray. Teldin could pick out three unusually bright points of light that appeared very close to the planet. Although nobody he'd spoken to had mentioned moons, he presumed these brilliant specks of light were satellites in orbit around the great planet.
The emotions that Teldin associated with this massive world were quite different from those he'd felt while viewing Zivilyn, too. Zivilyn, the giant of Krynn's system, seemed to embody dynamic change, energy, and turmoil. Chandos, on the other hand, made him feel calm, at peace with himself and with the universe as a whole.
"Ship ahoy!" The call echoed from the crow's nest atop the hastily repaired mainmast.
"Bearing?" That was Aelfred's call from up forward. Teldin turned and saw the big first mate climbing the ladder to the forecastle deck. A brass spyglass was under his arm.
"High on the starboard bow," the lookout answered.
Teldin looked up to the recently repaired crow's nest. He could see the lookout in his jury-rigged perch, arm outstretched and pointing. Teldin tried to pick out the exact angle the man was indicating, but from this perspective it was difficult.
Aelfred seemed to have no such problem. He snapped the brass tube up to his eye and trained it forward, slightly above and to the right of the Probe's bow. "Got it," he called after a few moments. "Mosquito, it looks like. No lights…" His voice took on a harder edge. "She's tumbling. Crew on deck!"
From below Teldin heard the clanging of the bell that called the crew to their stations. The deck pounded with running feet as crewmen burst out onto the deck. Men swung into the rigging, and weapons crews prepared their catapults.
"Teldin! Over here!" Aelfred stood beside the forward turret, beckoning with a raised arm. Teldin crossed the main deck-doing his best to stay out of the way of the crewmen who were still rushing to their stations-and joined his friend.
Aelfred was leaning against the turret, his gaze directed forward toward the other ship that Teldin had yet to see. The turret was still immobilized after the damaging ballista strike from the deathspider, but that hardly mattered. The heavy ballista it contained was ruined, and there wasn't the material aboard necessary to rebuild or replace it, though, according to shipboard gossip, Horvath had offered to rig up a "suitable substitute." Bubbo, the weapons master, had threatened to clap the gnome in irons if he even tried.
As Teldin approached, the first mate turned to face him. The warrior's expression was troubled. "Teldin," he said, "I want you to…" He moved his palm in front of his face, as though rearranging his features. "Understand?"
"Why?" Teldin's eyes strayed to the star field in the direction in which the other ship must lie. "Are they enemies?"
"I don't think so," Aelfred said reluctantly, "I think she might be a derelict, but…" He snorted in disgust. "I'm getting paranoid. Look." His voice became more persuasive. "Where's the harm? If the snip's empty, just reverse it. If there are people aboard the ship, you might be saving your life."
Teldin paused. The first mate was right, he thought, Aelfred was being paranoid, but he had to admit, it might be a necessary kind of paranoia. Teldin still didn't like shapeshifting on principle, but what good would it do if he stood on principle so firmly that the neogi ended up with the cloak? He sighed and nodded. "I agree," he said quietly.
He glanced around him. There was nobody else on the forecastle. With the ballista wrecked, there was no call for a weapon crew. All the other crew members he could see were busy preparing the Probe for the unknown.
He pulled the hood of the cloak up over his head and forward so that it shadowed his face. He closed his eyes and took a calming breath.
What face should he take? For the first time this was a relevant question. Up until now in his practice, he'd been assuming the face and form of others that he knew on board the hammership. Obviously, this wasn't a good idea; how would Garay-for example-react if he ran into his own twin?
Unbidden, the image of his rather came into his mind. He paused. Why not? He let the image build in intensity, then started making minor changes. His rather was too old. Remove some of the lines from around his eyes, then. His eyes were the same rich blue as Teldin's own. Too much of a similarity; change them to dark brown. Finally, remove the gray streaks from the black hair. He mentally examined the picture he'd built up and was satisfied. As to the body, change the frame a little, but not so much that his clothes didn't fit right. Broaden the shoulders slightly, make the chest a tad deeper, and that was it.
Teldin's daily practice had paid off. The whole process took no more than a couple of heartbeats. He opened his eyes again.
Aelfred shook his head and rumbled deep in his throat. "I'll never get used to that." Teldin reached up to remove the hood, but the first mate's hand stopped him. "No," Aelfred said, "keep it on. No reason to draw attention to the fact that somebody else is wearing Teldin's clothes." He paused in thought. "For the same reason, don't talk unless you have to, all right?"
Teldin nodded.
Aelfred's distinctive grin returned. "Good. You can stay here and watch if you want, but if things get nasty, either get belowdecks out of the way-" he slapped Teldin's shoulder " -or, if it strikes your fancy, feel free to fry as many of the bad guys as you like."
The Probe maneuvered cautiously closer to the unidentified ship. It wasn't long before Teldin could pick it out against the blackness of wildspace. At first it was just a small, faint dot reflecting the distant sun's light with changing intensity. Presumably it fluctuated because the ship was tumbling and the surface area it presented to reflect the sunlight was constantly changing. Slowly it started to show detail.
The ship was tiny, Teldin could tell at once, much smaller than the hammership, and while the hammership resembled a great fish or shark, the other vessel looked much more like an insect. Its hull was thin and elongated, tapering to a delicate, upswept point at the stern. It had slender legs, as did the pirate wasp ships that had attacked the Unquenchable: four extended below the hull, presumably as landing gear, while the aft two legs were bent up and back, extending above the body. Delicate wings of a thin, silklike material arced aft over the hull, and a long, thin spine extended forward from the bow. Overall, the term that Aelfred had used for the vessel was absolutely appropriate: mosquito.
The ship showed no lights that Teldin could see, and it certainly wasn't moving in any controlled way. In fact, it was tumbling slowly, end over end, making one rotation in about a minute. There was no movement on deck-if the small ship hid a deck. For all Teldin could tell, the mosquito was either dead or deserted.
As it turned out, the tumbling motion of the ship proved the greatest obstacle to finding out more about it. The Probe couldn't draw too near without running the risk of getting struck by a leg or wing, or by the extended stern of the hull itself.
As the hammership cautiously approached, Estriss and Vallus joined Aelfred on the forecastle. Teldin, his cloak hood still pulled forward to partially hide his changed features, stood well back from the group, hoping that nobody would pay him any notice. Estriss glanced his way and gave him a slight nod, as if to confirm the wisdom of what he'd done. Vallus, however, studied him a little more intently. Teldin was afraid that the elf would say something to draw attention to him, but after a few seconds of scrutiny, Vallus contented himself with a raised eyebrow and an aloof smile and turned back to the others, behavior quite out of character for the elf.
Aelfred put the problem into words. "Normally we'd fire a grappling iron with a rope attached," he explained, "take up the slack, and slow the ship that way, but without a ballista that's out of the question." He turned to the elven mage. "Vallus, any ideas?"
The wizard thought for a moment. "How heavy is that ship?" he asked eventually.
"I'd guess around six tons," Aelfred answered. "Can you slow it down with magic?"
"No," Vallus said firmly, "it's much too heavy for that." He paused in thought again. "I could fly over to it with a rope, and tie it off to the hull."
Aelfred shook his head. "And if there's something aboard that's hostile? You'd be a sitting duck."
The elf greeted that with a somewhat condescending grin. "I assure you, I can take good care of myself."
"I'd rather you didn't have to," the first mate shot back. "Could you fly somebody else-me, for example-over there?"
"I could," the elf confirmed, "but the same objection applies, doesn't it? There is, however, another option." His voice became more businesslike. "Have the crew prepare the grappling iron and rope you mentioned earlier. You won't need the ballista after all."
Aelfred barked orders, and the crew hurried to obey. Down on the main deck, amidships, a long rope was tied to the eye of a grappling iron, and the rope coiled on the deck. Twenty-five crewmen stood ready to do whatever was necessary. Vallus climbed down to the main deck and joined them.
When all was in readiness, the elf looked up expectantly at Aelfred.
"Go," the first mate ordered. "Deck crew, stand ready."
The elf s long fingers wove intricate patterns in the air before him. From where he stood on the forecastle, Teldin couldn't hear the incantation the mage was murmuring under his breath.
On the deck, the grappling iron quivered like something alive, then silently lifted from the planking. Slowly, trailing the rope behind it like a tail, it floated toward the tumbling mosquito. The coiled rope paid out smoothly.
The iron neared the angular vessel. "Rope crew ready," Vallus instructed quietly.
One crewman laid out the remaining rope across the deck. The other crew members spat in their palms, took up the rope, and braced themselves.
Carefully, the mage adjusted the position of the grappling iron. As the mosquito's slender stem swung up and over, the iron flicked into position. Its sharp tines bit into the wood near the aftmost end. "Take up the slack," the elf instructed.
Twenty-five men groaned as one as the rope crew took the load. The mosquito's tumbling slowed noticeably, but the ship was still moving.
"Give me some slack." The crew did as Vallus instructed. Under the elfs mental control, the grappling iron repositioned itself, this time near the mosquito's bow. "Take up the slack," Vallus ordered again, and again the men groaned, again the small ship slowed.
"Once more." The grappling iron moved again to the stern. This time the elf didn't have to give the order. As soon as the iron was positioned, the crew took up the load, then they relaxed, stretching strained muscles and muttering congratulations to one another. The mosquito lay at rest beside the hammership.
Vallus rejoined the others on the forecastle. "I thought that would work," he said mildly.
"Good job," Aelfred told him. The first mate called down to the rope crew, "Bring her alongside. Slowly."
Now that the mosquito wasn't moving, and because speed wasn't an issue, only a dozen men were needed on the rope.
The others picked up weapons and stood along the rail. Those with bows had arrows nocked and ready, but didn't draw.
Silently the mosquito inched nearer. Still nothing moved on board the small ship. Eventually the hammership rocked slightly as the two hulls met.
"Boarding party," Aelfred roared. "Two people. Julia and Garay."
The red-haired officer and the muscular crewman drew their swords and clambered over the rail. Cautiously they moved about the mosquito's tiny deck.
"Nobody on deck," Julia called back. "Maybe below, but the air's fouled. I don't hold out much hope."
"Check it out," Aelfred ordered, "but no heroics. I want you both back."
Julia flipped the first mate a quick salute. She and Garay moved from sight.
Almost immediately they reappeared. Julia was in the lead, Garay following, with a large bundle in his arms. With a twinge, Teldin recognized the shape of that bundle: another body. Julia swung quickly back over the rail aboard the Probe. Garay handed his burden up to another crewman and followed.
Aelfred and the other officers hurried down to the main deck. Teldin followed, a little hesitantly. As he drew closer, he knew he'd been right in his identification of the bundle. Lying on the deck, it was unmistakably a human body, wrapped in a heavy green traveling cloak. Aelfred knelt beside it, and slowly reached out a hand to pull the cloak back from the face.
The body sat up. With a slender hand, it pulled the cloak back from its face and shook out its long blonde hair. "Well," the body said in a rich contralto voice, smiling into Aelfred's astonished face, "if this is death, it's not as bad as I expected."
*****
The officers' saloon was as full as Teldin had ever seen it. Aelfred, Sylvie, and Julia-as Aelfred's second-in-command after the death of Sweor Tobregdan-sat around the central table. Estriss was notably absent, but presumably the illithid had decided his presence might disrupt the proceedings.
Teldin was present, too, though he'd pulled a chair away from the table and sat in a back comer. Nobody had actually invited him, but neither had he been excluded from the meeting, and-as his grandfather had always told him-it's easier to get forgiveness than permission, so he'd tagged along with the others. At first he'd considered keeping the hood of his cloak in place, then had decided Sylvie and Julia would have more important things on their minds than his changed appearance. He'd been right; neither woman had given him so much as a second glance. Their attention was focused totally on the sole inhabitant of the mosquito ship.
His own attention was focused pretty much in the same place, Teldin had to admit. He also had to admit that it was warranted.
The newcomer sat at the table, her back to the large port that looked out to the star-studded blackness of wildspace. She'd removed the heavy cloak she'd been wrapped in, and Teldin thought that was a great improvement. She was tail-almost as tall as Teldin himself-and slender, but her movements seemed to imply there was considerable strength in her supple body. She wore a jerkin and tights of forest green, not too different from the clothes worn by most aboard the Probe, but her garb was well-tailored to show off the curves of her figure. On her feet were boots of soft mahogany-brown leather that came halfway up shapely calves. Her face was slender, but her features were more rounded than sharply chiseled, and her small nose was slightly upturned. When she smiled-which was often-the tanned skin around her green eyes crinkled in what Teldin thought of as "laugh-lines," and she became even more beautiful than when her face was at rest. When she spoke, her warm voice seemed to have an undercurrent of laughter.
She was speaking now, brushing shoulder-length curls of honey-blond hair back from her face. "My name is Rianna Wyvernsbane," she said, "and, first thing, I want to thank you all for saving me. I thought I was dead."
Aelfred gave a half-smile and shook his head as though to dismiss the thanks. "What happened to your ship?" he asked.
"I was inward bound from Garden," Rianna answered.
"For Toril?" Sylvie put in.
"For Dragon Rock, in the Tears of Selune. I live on Tori], but I keep my ship-the Ghost-on the Rock."
"Toril to Garden's a long flight in a mosquito," Sylvie remarked.
"Not really," Rianna replied with a throaty chuckle, "not if you don't mind your own company. I make my living as a message-runner. If you need a message delivered to any planet in Realmspace-fast, with no complications-I'm your girl."
"You were telling us what happened," Aelfred reminded her.
Rianna favored him with a smile. "That's right, I was." She sat back in her chair. She seemed completely relaxed, Teldin thought, totally unconcerned that she was aboard a strange ship surrounded by potential enemies. Was she so brave that the thought didn't bother her, or so stupid that the danger hadn't even occurred to her? Or was her apparent relaxation just a facade?
"I'd delivered my message to the party in question," Rianna went on, "and I was climbing away from Garden when I saw another vessel coming up ahead. A deathspider."
Aelfred cursed. "Neogi again."
Rianna shot him a curious look, but he waved her on with her story. "The Ghost isn't much to look at," she continued, "and she's not much in combat, but I've stripped her for maneuverability, and she's fast…." She grinned wryly. "The long and the short of it is, I ran, down toward Garden again. If you know Garden at all, you know it's a cluster of large rocks in one atmosphere envelope. I ducked in among the rocks to lose the deathspider. It worked. Just." She grimaced. "Those neogi are nothing if not persistent. They got a few shots away, and the poor old Ghost took a bad hit…."
"I didn't notice any damage," Sylvie pointed out.
"Take a look at the starboard wing root," Rianna suggested, "you'll see it's held on by rope, a little wire, and a whole lot of good intentions. The keel is cracked, too, ready to give way, I think."
"Go on," Aelfred prompted.
"They followed me down," the woman continued, "right on my tail, until they had to break off or slam full into one of the rocks. I went on through. They had to reverse course, then take the long way around, so I had a good head start, enough to get away."
"What were the neogi doing there?" The question slipped out before Teldin could stop it.
Rianna's green-eyed gaze settled on Teldin for the first time. I wish I'd made myself more handsome, he caught himself thinking. Now where did that thought come from?
"I don't know," she replied with a smile, "I didn't stop to ask them."
"And then?" Aelfred prompted.
"Then I headed for Toril. I pushed the Ghost as hard as I could, for as long as I could keep my mind clear. I was well away from Garden, and I couldn't see the neogi anymore. That's when my helm died. No warning. One moment I'm tearing along at full spelljamming speed, the next, I'm moving at a crawl with no control over the ship at all."
Teldin felt a current of sympathy around the table. He could understand why. Vallus Leafbower's comments about distance in wildspace were still with him. The idea of being stranded in that vastness was terrifying.
"Bad," Sylvie commiserated, echoing the feelings of everyone else in the saloon. "What was wrong with the helm?"
Rianna shook her head, and her blond tresses swung. "I'm not an arcane," she chuckled. "I can run a helm. I can't troubleshoot one. It was just dead."
"And then?" Aelfred prompted again.
"Then I drifted. What else could I do? I was too far from Garden for its gravity to affect me, but I did still have some speed-though not much-and I was heading toward the sun. I figured the best thing-the only thing-was to conserve the air I had. No work, no movement that I could avoid. Just hope that some ship would find me before I suffocated." She bathed everyone at the table with a warm smile. "I slept a lot, but I didn't enjoy the dreams."
"The air was foul aboard your ship," Julia noted. "How long were you adrift?"
"Twenty-three days."
The female officer looked at her uncertainly. "You had food and water for twenty-three days? On a mosquito?"
"Water, yes," Rianna replied. "I don't do cargo runs, so I load the Ghost's cargo space with as much water as I can. You never know, do you? But food, no. I've been on very thin rations, and for the last couple of days nothing at all. So maybe when we're finished here… ?" She patted her stomach.
"We're almost finished," Aelfred said briskly, "then you can get something to eat. Your destination is Toril?"
"Dragon Rock," Rianna corrected him, "if you're going near there…"
"Our destination is Toril," the first mate told her.
She shrugged. "Close enough."
"About your ship," Aelfred pressed on. "We can't take her aboard."
"Tow her?" Rianna suggested.
The first mate shook his head. "Not practical. If the keel is cracked, she'll break up. Plus, we can't land with a ship in tow."
Rianna digested this in silence, eyes lowered. "Ah, well," she sighed eventually, "I suppose I knew the Ghost and I had taken our last voyage together. Cut her loose if you have to."
Sylvie reacted to the woman's sadness. "We'll post a salvage claim on the hull," she said reassuringly. "That way maybe you'll recover something from her."
The newcomer nodded her thanks, then she turned back co Aelfred. "What port on Toril?" she asked.
"Rauthaven. Naturally, we'll give you passage to there."
"Nimbral?" She looked somber for a moment, then brightened. "Well, it could be worse. I should be able to get passage to Dragon Rock from Rauthaven, then maybe another ship, and I'm back in business." She smiled at Aelfred. "If we're through here, maybe we could do something about that meal… ?"
*****
As the Probe drew closer to Toril, Teldin came to realize that Rianna Wyvernsbane's status aboard ship was almost as ambiguous as his, though for quite different reasons. Almost immediately after she'd eaten, Rianna had sought out Aelfred and insisted that he assign her duties in return for passage to Toril. She'd offered to take shifts on the hammership's helm- after all, she was mage enough to run the Ghost- but the Probe already had enough helmsmen. Instead he assigned her to assist Sylvie with plotting the approach to Rauthaven.
The crew knew that Rianna was at least nominally an officer- by virtue of her assignment alone, though she couldn't officially give orders-but they couldn't help but respond to her on a nonprofessional level as well. She was, after all, strikingly beautiful, and it was apparent that she had no close friendship-or any other relationship-with anyone on board. That was just another factor that set her apart from most of the other women on board. There were no rules aboard the Probe that prohibited relationships or even casual liaisons between crew members-as long as they didn't interfere with the smooth running of the ship-and the hammer-ship's female crew members were generally as glad to enjoy the benefits of this freedom as the males.
It was easy to learn just where Rianna was aboard the Probe, Teldin noted with amusement, just look for the largest group of off-duty male crew members. The size of her entourage seemed pretty constant, though its membership varied according to time of day.
Even when Rianna wasn't present, she was often the topic of conversation among the "temporarily unattached" men aboard. Discussions over who did or didn't "have a chance" with her were common, and some of these exchanges sometimes grew a little heated. One, in fact, almost came to blows, forcing Aelfred Silverhorn to exercise his considerable disciplinary powers. The two men involved found themselves standing back-to-back watches for three days.
Rianna did nothing to foster these controversies, but her naturally friendly nature did nothing to discourage them either. She was always ready to talk to anyone nearby, and male members of the crew frequently competed to see who could best elicit her warm and throaty laugh.
Teldin's own situation was different, too. Once it was established that Rianna would stay aboard until the Probe made landfall, he suggested to Aelfred that it might be best if he dropped the charade that he was becoming less and less comfortable maintaining. To his surprise, Aelfred disagreed vehemently. "It's not that I have any reason to distrust her," the first mate explained, "quite the opposite, in fact, but why take the risk? It's safer if you don't show your own face. I'm not ordering you, Teldin," he added, "just asking, as a friend, all right?" Teldin had accepted the big warrior's argument, but wasn't happy with it.
As the days passed, there was no way he could keep his new face hidden. At first, crew members had shown surprise over the "new man" aboard the Probe, but his own voice-which he was still incapable of disguising-quickly gave away his true identity. The crew's reaction to this had surprised him deeply. He'd expected that people would question him, but that simply never happened. Instead, the crew just shrugged and seemed to write it off as another magical eccentricity of the "fighter-mage" in their midst. He learned that Estriss, as captain, had quietly passed the word that no crew member was to tell Rianna about Teldin's true identity, on pain of losing one half of the culprit's pay for the voyage. Considering, cynically, that any crewman would give up that one-half share and more for a better chance at Rianna's favors, Teldin doubted that this edict would have any effect at all.
Teldin made no effort to speak to Rianna and, in fact, went out of his way to avoid meeting her. Even though he found her as attractive as did every other male member of the crew, he knew that talking to her would force him into a position of lying about his identity, and that was something he simply didn't want to be compelled to do.
So, for the first five days after her arrival on board, Teldin saw Rianna Wyvernsbane only at a distance.
There was no way that could continue, of course. On the sixth day after the Probe had encountered the Mosquito, Teldin found himself unable to sleep. As he usually did on occasions such as this, he went to the officers' saloon.
When he opened the door, he saw that Rianna was already there. Unaccountably, she was alone, somehow having managed to shake off her retinue of admirers. She was sprawled, boneless and relaxed, in one chair, with her long legs propped up on another, gazing out the port into the depths of space. He started to withdraw.
Rianna must have sensed his presence somehow, for she turned her green-eyed gaze on him and greeted him with a slow smile. "Well met," she said lazily. "Join me?" She patted another chair.
Teldin hesitated. There was no way he could leave now without being unforgivably rude…. Plus he had to admit that he found the tall blonde very attractive, and the chance to talk to her alone wasn't something to pass up lightly.
His hesitation was long enough for Rianna to notice. Her warm smile faded a little. "If you'd rather not…" she said quietly, a hint of disappointment in her voice.
Quickly he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "No," he answered, "I'd like to." He took the chair she had indicated. It was close to her, close enough for him to notice a subtle aroma. Some kind of musky perfume? None of the other women aboard wore scent. Or was it just her natural fragrance? He sat in the chair a little stiffly, then forced himself to relax. For the first time, he had the opportunity to study the woman from close up. At this range, it was possible to be a little more critical. Taken individually, her features weren't as perfect as they appeared from a distance. Her mouth, for example, was a little large for her face, filled with white teeth. When she smiled, her upper lip pulled back to display a line of pink gum. Her jawline was hard, giving her a "stubborn" chin.
But that was nit-picking. When he looked into Rianna's face, it was the totality that mattered, the way the individual features combined into a harmonious whole. He had to admit that Rianna Wyvernsbane was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen, let alone spoken to.
He'd never been good at judging women's ages-and that fact had gotten him into minor trouble on occasion. Rianna simply reinforced the fact. Initially he'd guessed that she was around twenty summers. Now he had to revise that estimate upward. The laugh-lines around her eyes were deeper and remained visible-if only as a network of spiderweb-thin traces-even when her face was in repose. The eyes themselves were clear and steady and seemed to contain wisdom out of keeping with someone as young as his original guess. If he were forced to estimate now, he'd have to say she was about his own age, maybe even a couple of years older.
If Rianna noticed his close appraisal, she gave no sign. "I remember you were here when I first arrived," she said, "so you know who I am…." She let the statement trail off.
"My name is Aldyn Brewer," Teldin told her, a name that Estriss had suggested he use. Its rhythm was much die same as his real name, as were the sounds of its individual syllables. The illithid had reasoned that Teldin would be better able to remember-and respond to-a name with a cadence similar to his own.
"Aldyn Brewer," Rianna repeated. The name sounded so much better rolling off her tongue, Teldin thought. "Did you come here looking for me, Aldyn Brewer?"
"No," Teldin answered honestly. "I often come here to relax."
"To be alone with the stars," Rianna amplified. "Yes. That's why I came here. I miss it, being on a big ship. That's what I liked about the Ghost. Alone with the stars for days, weeks at a time. Do you like your own company, Aldyn Brewer?" Her voice was slow, lazy, as though she were merely vocalizing her wandering thoughts.
"Sometimes," he replied, "but I enjoy conversation, too."
She chuckled throatily. "Well spoken. What kind of conversation would you enjoy now?"
He shrugged, returning her smile. "Any that you'd care to give me."
"Ah-" she laughed "-the give and take of witty repartee. All right, then. Where do you hail from, Aldyn Brewer?"
Teldin's stomach went cold. He had a false name, but no false story to go with it. He desperately searched his memory. "From Wayspace," he said, clutching at the name of a crystal shell that Aelfred had mentioned visiting. "From Waypoint," he said, naming what he thought he recalled being the major world in that sphere. When she nodded, he asked, with a sinking feeling, "Do you know it?"
She shook her head. "Know it, no," she answered. "Know of it, yes. I've heard the name, but I don't know much about it. Tell me about your life on Waypoint, Aldyn."
"It's not that interesting," Teldin mumbled uncomfortably.
Rianna wasn't going to be put off that easily. "Perhaps not to you," she pointed out, "but I like learning everything I can about other worlds: the feel of the world, what it's like to live there." She sat up straighter in her chair and tucked her booted feet beneath her. Hugging her knees, she smiled at him again. "What did you do on Waypoint, Aldyn Brewer?" One part of Teldin's mind-the logical part-was telling him this was crazy, dangerous. He should make some excuse and get himself out of here right now. Another part admitted that this was the last thing he wanted to do. With Rianna sitting near him, and her fragrance in his nostrils, he certainly didn't want to leave. In any case, he found himself reasoning, he should be able to keep the topic of conversation away from anything sensitive. This would be good practice if he had to do it under other, more dangerous, circumstances.
Thus reassured, he relaxed back into his chair. "I was a farmer," he told her with a smile, "nothing interesting."
She shook her head, and her golden curls danced. "Don't undervalue yourself," she told him. "You left your world to seek adventure in space, didn't you? How many people actually do that? One in a hundred thousand? One in a million? You did. I find that interesting. Tell me about your farm. Was it yours?"
"My father's," Teldin answered, "but I ran it, ever since I came back from…" He paused. He'd almost said "back from the wars." He had to be more careful. "… from military training," he concluded quickly.
"Your land has an army?"
"I think all lands do," Teldin answered honestly.
She grinned. "Perhaps. What did you grow, Aldyn?"
"Some of everything," Teldin replied. He was beginning to enjoy this, despite-or maybe because of-the knowledge that he was taking a risk. "We were self-sufficient and grew enough to sell. We weren't rich-far from it-but we were comfortable. It was a good life, a pleasant life."
"But too dull, else you'd never have left to come into space, right?" She nodded as if answering her own question. "Were you married?"
"No. Never."
"Why not?" Rianna's grin grew mischievous. "Were you having too much fun breaking farm maids' hearts? Would marriage have put too great a limit on your freedom?"
Teldin shook his head firmly. "No," he answered again. "I just never found the tight woman. Maybe-" he had to smile at his own unaccustomed flight of rhetoric "-maybe that's why I left home, to seek her among the stars."
Rianna's eyes sparkled like emeralds. Her laugh seemed to thrill through Teldin's body. "Would you bow her if you found her, Aldyn Brewer?" she asked.
"Who's to say I haven't, Rianna Wyvernsbane?" he joked.
The woman laughed again. "If all men of Waypoint are as silver-tongued as you, maybe the place is worth a visit, but you know, it's interesting…." Her voice took on a musing tone, but her gaze was steady and appraising. "I always thought that Waypoint was a desert world, and all you could farm there was dust and lizards."
Teldin had felt like he was drifting through a warm, comfortable dream. Now reality struck him like a bucket of cold water. Stupid, he cursed himself. He'd let himself get blinded by Rianna's beauty and apparent friendliness, and she'd led him straight into a stupid contradiction. Damn it! She knew he was biding something. What else did she know?
The woman's green eyes were still on him. Well, he thought, he could at least do some damage control, "That must be the southern hemisphere you're thinking of," he said as casually as he could manage. "Well, it's been a pleasure, Rianna…." He started to climb to his feet, but Rianna reached out a hand and took his arm.
"No, don't," she said quietly. "Don't leave yet."
The woman's grip on his arm was surprisingly firm. Teldin could have broken it, but not without some effort. And, even now, he had to admit he didn't want to break it. He took his seat again.
"I could well be mistaken about Waypoint," Rianna told him. Her hand was still on his arm; he could feel its warmth. It was her gaze, now, that fixed him in place, rather than her grip. It held his own firmly, made it impossible for him to look away even if he'd wanted to.
"We should change the subject," she went on. "You've told me something about you, and it's my turn now. In my business, I deal with lots of people who have secrets. I think just about everyone has secrets. You bow, I think your secrets are probably the most personal possessions you ever have, and no matter how rich you are, they're probably the most valuable Do you see what I'm saying? I think you should treat a person's secrets with the same respect you'd treat any other valuable item they have. You can accept some item of value as a gift, but you don't take it. It's the same with secrets." She smiled. "There. I've just told you something that's important to me, one of the rules I live by. Like a gift, I hope you take it in the spirit in which it was given."
Although the woman's tone was light, almost joking, and her mouth was smiling, the glib expression didn't reach her green eyes. Her gaze still held Teldin's, and in it was an intensity that was almost uncomfortable. He couldn't look away- not that he was sure he wanted to. Those deep, emerald eyes seemed intent on passing a message that wasn't contained in her words. Or maybe it was, but deep below the surface. Teldin thought he understood that message, thought it was meant to reassure him, but he couldn't accept that message at face value, not right now.
Rianna seemed to sense his thoughts as clearly as if he'd spoken them aloud. She nodded as if in answer to a question or statement of his, then she let her eyes soften into the smile that was already playing about her lips; The intensity faded from her gaze.
"Well," she said-and her tone was as light as ever-"I hear Rauthaven is our port of call. I've been to the Resort several times. Maybe when we land I can show you around a little."
"I'd like that," Teldin told her, and again he was telling the truth.
Her smile grew warmer, if that were possible. "So would I."