Nigel Findley - Into the Void

They'd drifted off the important topic. "So we rescued you," he said. "Then what?"

"Then I was to stay with you and relay information back to them through some other spies they've got on Toril."

Teldin was shocked. "How did they know I was coming to Toril at all?"

"They didn't say and I didn't ask," she answered simply. "They knew you'd be coming to Rauthaven and guessed you'd try to contact the arcane. Barrab was one of their people. So was the bartender in the Pig and Whistle. I got further instructions through those two: to lead you somewhere where we could get the cloak with the least amount of fuss."

"But Barrab betrayed you, didn't he?"

"That pig!" Rianna spat. "He turned. He cut a deal with the mind flayers. I hope it gets him killed."

Teldin stared at Rianna as though seeing her for the first time. In a way, he was. The woman before him wasn't the same person he'd fallen for. "What about us, Rianna?" he asked quietly. "That was a setup, too, wasn't it?"

She laughed. "Of course it was. Didn't you ever think our romance was happening too fast? Are you usually that quick to give your heart and your trust to a stranger? I churned you, Teldin, that night in the tavern. Such a simple little bit of magic, but, oh, so effective."

New emotions twisted within Teldin's breast. Anger was there, anger over being used, but overpowering the anger was a deep sense of humiliation. His cheeks burned with it. He'd been used-used in a way he hadn't imagined possible. His will had not been his own; he'd been nothing more than a puppet, and Rianna had pulled the strings.

With a vast effort, he forced the emotion into the background. "Why are we here?" he asked.

"Why not?" Rianna replied simply. "Why not arrange things so you go-of your own free will-where my employers wanted you?"

Teldin remained silent. After all, what more was there to say?

Rianna studied him, and her smile faded a little. Teldin could read her doubts in her expression: Why is he taking this so calmly? she must be wondering. What does he know that I don't know? Then her face cleared and she laughed, "You're expecting good old Aelfred to help you, aren't you?" she asked in feigned wonder. Her face and tone hardened. "Forget it," she told him. "He's dead. As soon as we left the ship, my men were to kill him, stab him in the back. The Probe's secure, and there's nobody left to make that daring last-moment rescue. How sad." She raised her blade to point at his chest. "Now, your sword, if you don't mind."

Teldin didn't respond. Another friend dead, he thought: Aelfred, of the lopsided grin and hearty laugh, soon to be followed by Julia, of the copper hair, then by himself. Such a long road he'd followed, to end up here. The effort, the pain, the loss-all had been for nothing. All had led-simply and inevitably-to this, the final loss. He looked into Rianna's cold eyes. Why? Was he looking for mercy, for compassion? There was none of that to be found. Her sword glittered in the starlight. The blade was steady. There was: no way she'd hesitate to kill him. "Drop it," she snapped.

He felt dull surprise as he realized he still held his sword- the sword she'd given him. He looked down at the weapon in his hand, then up at Rianna's face. Why not? The thought came unbidden. Why not attack her now? He'd lose, he knew that, but he was going to die anyway. Why not try to inflict at least some faint echo of his pain on her? If I'm to die, why not with the song of steel in my ears? He remembered Gomja, the giff, and the gnome, Dana. They'd both died the way they'd wanted. How did Teldin want to die? Trying to kill the woman who'd betrayed him? Why not?

Rianna had been watching his eyes. Now hers widened and she took a step back from what she'd seen in his gaze. He felt his lips draw back from his teeth in a feral grin.

Do not do this. The words formed, cool and precise, in his mind. It took all of his effort to keep himself from looking over at Estriss. Rianna hadn't reacted: the words hadn't been directed at her.

His mind raced. Perhaps Rianna didn't know that the illithid could communicate privately. Was there some way he could turn that to his advantage? No, there was nothing he could think of, not unless he could talk to Estriss without the others knowing. He gripped his sword tighter.

Do not do this, the mind flayer repeated. A life thrown away is opportunity lost.

Teldin hesitated. The illithid's words sounded somehow like a proverb of some kind, then the meaning hit home. When he'd been growing up, one of his grandfather's favorite aphorisms had been "While there's life, there's hope." To tell the truth, he'd always thought it one of the only really fatuous things his grandfather had ever said. But now, for the first time, he saw the truth in it. No matter how dearly he sold his life, his only payment would be death and the knowledge that the cloak would fall to the neogi. If he waited, there was always the chance-no matter how small-that he could do something to better the odds, even to overcome them. After all, he could make that final, all-out attack at virtually any time. He twisted his body slightly and felt Aelfred's dagger against the skin of his stomach, held in place by his belt. However the big man had guessed, he'd guessed right. Teldin let his feral smile fade and loosened his grip. The short sword's blade rang as it fell to the ivory deck. Showing empty hands, he stepped back from the weapon.

Cautiously, never taking her eyes from his, Rianna pocketed her spell components-if that's what they were-and bent to pick up the dropped sword. She straightened and slipped the sword into her own scabbard. Her smile was broad, much more confident now. "Good choice," she cooed, then her voice hardened again. "Now," she said, reaching out toward him, "the cloak, please…."

She didn't realize he couldn't remove the cloak! Teldin realized with a shock. Of course not: he'd never mentioned it. Was there any way he could turn that to his advantage?

"No," a harsh voice spat from behind Teldin. "Own prize I will take."

Teldin knew that voice. He'd heard it, or one very much like it, on Krynn once before, and he knew the creature that produced it. He turned slowly.

The neogi had emerged from the door nearest the left end of the room. It advanced slowly toward him, the claws tipping its eight insectlike limbs clicking on the bonelike deck. Its bare, fleshy neck moved restlessly, like a snake's. Its mouth was open in a grin that showed needle-sharp teeth. The creature's pelt virtually blazed with a profusion of colors-the colors of a chaotic rainbow, or of the flow.

"Prissith Nerro Master," Rianna said, with a bow.

"Yes," the neogi hissed. Its small red eyes flicked back and forth between Rianna and Teldin. "Yes," it repeated, "master. You, woman: my prize you brought, but touch it you will not. Too great the temptation to betray."

"Betray." Rianna picked up on the word. "Master, the one known as Barrab has betrayed you. He's sold his services to the illithids. He…"

Prissith Nerro cut her off with a gale of harsh neogi laughter. "Master not learn this, you think? Lesser races meat are, only, no more." The creature fixed her with an evil smile. "Ambition of Barrab greater than wisdom, always. To me meat returned, for higher price meat asked." The neogi laughed again. "Higher price meat paid." The eellike head turned, and the creature barked a short phrase in an ugly tongue.

Another creature appeared in the doorway from which the neogi had emerged. Again, Teldin had seen its kind before, during the battles at Mount Nevermind and aboard the Probe. Eight feet tall it stood, bulging with great muscles beneath its black, armored hide. The umber hulk bore a bundle in its great, taloned arms, a bundle the color of burgundy. It threw its burden down to land with a soggy thump at its small lord's feet.