Nigel Findley - Into the Void

Teldin smiled but said nothing. Even though he knew Aelfred intended no harm, he didn't feel comfortable joking about someone who he'd suddenly realized meant a lot to him. "Any word from Barrab?" he asked.

Aelfred's expression sobered. "Not yet," he replied, "but I hear tell that our fat friend spent his night away from home, too. Meeting with his boss, I'll wager."

"Is there anything we can do to hurry things along?"

The warrior shook his head firmly. "Nothing. We wait."

As it turned out, they didn't have to wait long at all. Teldin had been back on board for perhaps an houri which he'd spent in the officers' saloon, gazing out at the busy harbor, when a knock sounded and Aelfred entered. The big man was grinning like a bandit. "Message for milord Brewer," he announced, "just delivered by tender." He waited, obviously enjoying himself.

"It worked?"

"It worked," Aelfred confirmed. "You and two assistants are invited aboard the Nebulon -that's the arcane's ship."

Teldin grinned. He was almost there. "Did he say where the ship was?" he asked. "Are we taking the Probe up?"

"He didn't say where the ship was," Aelfred told him, "but it doesn't matter. Barrab's arranged a boat to take you up. Security, I suppose." The first mate grew serious. "The invitation says you may bring two people with you if you want," he said quietly. "And I suggest you do it, Teldin. I don't know why an arcane might want to set a trap for you, but if he planned to, this would be an excellent opportunity."

Teldin nodded slowly. As Aelfred had passed on the message, similar thoughts had been running through his mind. "I agree," he said. "Aelfred, do you want to come?"

The warrior smiled. "Just try to keep me away." He paused, then went on, "Estriss was there when I got the message and wants to come, too. I'd rather have one of my people come- Bubbo, maybe, as an intimidation factor-but…"

Teldin paused in thought. Aelfred was leaving the decision up to him. That was probably as it should be, but he wasn't comfortable with it. He considered. He'd feel a lot happier with the reassuring bulk of Bubbo at his back, but Estriss knew more about the arcane than either he or Aelfred-probably more than anyone else aboard. That knowledge could be vital. In a flash of recall, he saw an attacker staggering back under the illithid's mental attack. There was no doubt that Estriss could take care of himself.

For a moment Teldin considered Rianna-her company and moral support would be more than welcome-but he quickly rejected the thought. He still hadn't told her everything about the cloak-specifically, the defensive powers it had shown in battle with the neogi, and the fact that he couldn't remove it-even though the lie of omission made him feel uncomfortable, and that's what the conversation on the Nebulon would be about. On balance, he decided it would be better to limit the participants to people who already knew the whole story.

"I'll take Estriss," he said finally.

Aelfred nodded his acceptance. "I'll pass the word." He turned to go.

"Where's the boat?" Teldin asked. "Alongside?"

Aelfred grinned. "You'll see," he said cryptically.

When Aelfred had used the word "boat," Teldin had pictured something like the Unquenchable 's longboat, or maybe a smaller version of the hammership. It turned out to be something entirely different. He and his "assistants," Aelfred Silverhorn and "Bale Estriss," took the tender in to shore, then walked through the town and out the main gate. The "boat" was waiting for them on the wide paved road, surrounded by a flock of curious onlookers.

It was a dragonfly, Aelfred told him. Resting on its spindly legs, it looked like a larger version of Rianna's mosquito. Like the smaller ship, it was long and slender, tapering to a sharp point astern. Unlike the mosquito, it had two sets of wings: one arcing up and back over the afterdeck, the other sweeping below and almost brushing the ground. "Minimum crew of two," Aelfred explained, "a good ship's boat."

With Aelfred in the lead, they pushed through the throng of spectators-who, Teldin noticed, were standing a respectful distance from the strange craft-and approached the dragonfly. "Aldyn Brewer and party," the warrior called up to the deck. "Permission to come aboard?"

"Permission granted," a voice responded from above. A rope ladder was lowered from the main deck.

As they'd agreed beforehand, Aelfred was first up the ladder. Teldin watched the practiced ease with which the big man climbed the swaying ladder. The warrior swung himself over the rail and vanished from sight. After a few moments, he reappeared, beckoning the others to join him. "Come ahead, milord Brewer," he shouted. It had been agreed upon ahead of time that Aelfred would go aboard first. If the dragonfly was safe, he'd call down for "milord Brewer" to join him. If it was a trap-and somebody had a dagger at Aelfred's back-he'd shout down for "milord Aldyn," warning Teldin and Estriss to get away fast.

Teldin flipped the cloak-which he'd expanded-back over his shoulders to clear his arms. He grasped the swaying ladder and began to climb. It wasn't as bad as he'd expected. He was quickly on the small boat's deck, and, equally quickly, Estriss joined him. Aelfred was forward, talking with one of the dragonfly's two crewmen. The other hauled up the rope ladder. Almost immediately the small craft was underway, lifting silently into the cloudless sky.

Teldin wanted to lean over the rail and watch the city dropping away beneath them, but he'd decided that this wasn't appropriate for the role he was playing. "Milord Aldyn Brewer" would be used to such things. Oh, certainly, he knew he'd have to drop the pretense when he actually spoke with the arcane, but that meeting would be private if he had anything to say about it. In the meantime, he guessed that the crewmen had probably been hired by Barrab, and dropping his role in their sight would be a good way of alienating someone he might have to use again later.

To take his mind off the view he was missing, and to prevent himself from rubbernecking like the tourist he was, he looked around for somewhere to sit. He found a small bench abaft of the small ship's single mast and seated himself.

He tried to relax, but it was futile. Conflicting emotions warred within him. There was excitement-of course! If Estriss was right about the arcane, then in just a few hours he might be free of his burden. What then? A new life on Toril? Or on the Tears of Selune? Or maybe elsewhere in space? He forced those thoughts from his mind. There would be time for them later.

There was also fear. Mainly, it was the fear of disappointment, of failure. What if he somehow found out that the arcane weren't the creators of the cloak? If he found himself, now, as far-perhaps farther-from the end of his quest? He had no other clues to follow, unless you counted Estriss's theories. How could creatures who'd vanished from this corner of the universe several millennia ago free him from the cloak?

The conclusion was inescapable. He'd have to continue searching for the real creators. How long would that take? Years? Decades? His entire life? Maybe he'd never be free of the burden, free to live his own life as he wanted to live it. Maybe he'd always be controlled by the "gift" of the dead traveler, with little more real freedom than a prisoner in chains.

That was what he feared: disappointment, yes, but so much more. He toyed with the idea of yelling to the crew to return him to the city-after all, if he didn't face the arcane, he'd never hear bad news-but knew that was just fear talking. He forced his doubts, too, and anticipation, from the front of his mind.