Netarza turned on the other illithid, lowering her head and fixing her blank white eyes upon it. The creature recoiled. With a searing hiss, it began to tear at its own eyes in the madness of agony. In seconds it slumped, either unconscious or dead, to the deck. Teldin gaped, astounded that the illithid captain would use its lethal mind blast on one of its own crewmen.
Forgive the interruption. Ship politics, I’m afraid,
Netarza said, nudging Teldin’s attention away from the stricken mind flayer.
I hope you will stay for a while, as my guest.
“Do I have a choice in the matter?” Teldin asked bluntly.
Before answering, Netarza gestured at a trio of elven slaves and issued a silent command. The elves responded immediately and dragged the fallen illithid to the railing. Without ceremony, they tossed the dead creature out to drift away. Netarza watched the object lesson in silence for several moments before turning back to Teldin.
Naturally, you have a choice. Of course, there are good choices and bad choices
….
The illithid captain let her words echo in Teldin’s mind for a long moment. Before he could respond, he heard beneath him the muffled sound of a scuffle. A scream of anguish came from the lower deck, and then another. Wooden steps creaked as the victor approached the main deck.
Netarza spun toward the commotion, her white eyes spitting fire. She hissed a command, and mind-controlled elven warriors drew steel and attacked with a speed and agility that made Teldin stare. In little more than a blink, a dozen elves surrounded a figure, obscuring it from view. One of the elven slaves screamed and stumbled back toward her, his hands clutching at his head and his eyes rolled back in unspeakable agony.
Netarza brutally shoved the wounded elf out of her way as she padded forward.
Now, now,
she admonished, her mental voice an evil purr.
Is this any way for a guest to behave?
The elves parted to let her pass. Teldin fell back a step. Netarza’s other “guest” was an illithid. Its eyes were without either pupils or expression, but Teldin had known one illithid well enough to perceive this one’s distress. The creature clasped its three-fingered hands before it, and the four tentacles that formed the lower part of its face writhed with agitation. In the dim purple light, its flowing robe was a deep maroon, almost black. With a stab of shock, Teldin realized that he knew Netarza’s guest very well.
We meet again, Teldin Moore,
came a familiar mental voice, removing any doubt of the creature’s identity.
“Hello, Estriss,” Teldin said aloud.
Netarza’s head snapped around to face Teldin.
You know each other?
We have met,
Estriss “said.” The illithid’s mental tone was dismissing, minimizing the importance of the relationship.
Teldin was not surprised by Estriss’s coolness. At their last meeting, Teldin had suspected his one-time comrade of treachery, and he had convinced the illithid’s crew to mutiny. Teldin had taken Estriss’s hammership, the
Probe,
into wildspace, intending to get rid of the cloak by giving it to an arcane. There he had found the arcane slain and himself betrayed to the neogi.
Netarza studied Teldin, and one tentacle curled up to tap thoughtfully against her lavender forehead.
I know less of the cloak’s powers than I would like. Estriss, as always, is full of talk of the Juna and has revealed nothing of value. Perhaps, Teldin Moore, you will tell me what you know of the cloak, and why the elder-brain wishes to possess it?
Turning his eyes away from the mind flayer’s probing gaze, Teldin deliberately kept his mind blank. Although he wasn’t entirely sure Estriss had spoken the whole truth, the illithid once had claimed he could read Teldin’s mind only when the human formed words in silent speech. Apparently Netarza did not get the answer she sought, for after several moments the illithid captain hissed and shot a glance over her shoulder. Immediately an elf glided forward.
It is time to earn your keep, wizard. Tell me whatever you can about this human,
Netarza instructed the elf.
A hint of light returned to the wizard’s eyes as Netarza allowed him to reclaim enough of his mind and memory to perform the required spell. The elf’s index finger moved sluggishly through the gestures of the spell, and his voice was slurred as he muttered arcane syllables.
Teldin stiffened, enraged by the magical intrusion on his life. He had no idea what information the spell would yield, but anything would be too much.
“There is magic about his cloak,” the wizard began in a dull tone.
The illithid hissed her exasperation and shoved the elf aside. She stepped forward and took the silky green fabric of the cloak between her fingers. Instinctively Teldin swatted away her hand. She released the cloak and caught his wrist in a movement almost too quick for his eyes to follow.
You don’t want me to touch your cloak? I wonder why,
she asked sweetly.
Perhaps there were some gems amid the rubble of Estriss’s tales and theories, after all. He mentioned an artifact of the Juna, and claimed that anyone with magical ability who touched the artifact could thereafter track it. Not that
I
would be so foolish as to let such an artifact out of my sight,
she concluded. One of her facial tentacles arched in an approximated sneer as she cast a glance in Estriss’s direction.
Despite the danger of his situation, Netarza’s words struck Teldin like a blow. They confirmed something he had long suspected: from the very beginning, Estriss had known about his cloak and had tracked him down, hoping to possess it. An old sadness, one that he had thought long spent, welled up in Teldin, and he met the expressionless eyes of his false friend with an accusing gaze.
Tell Netarza nothing,
urged Estriss’s mental voice, throbbing with intensity.
In her own way, she and all her kind are as evil as the neogi. The
Spelljammer
in their hands is a possibility too appalling to contemplate. On this you must trust me.
Teldin stood silently for a long moment, considering the illithid’s fervent request. Once he
had
trusted Estriss. The warning given by his cloak and his own instincts told him he must do so now. Whether Estriss was friend or foe was a question for another, safer time.
Is the cloak this artifact of the Juna?
Netarza asked Estriss. Whatever he said about either cloak or its potential creators was for her mind alone, and she seemed less than pleased with the answer. The illithid captain abandoned that line of inquiry and turned to her other guest.
You will tell me about this cloak of yours, Teldin Moore,
Netarza stated, her white eyes locked with his.
Teldin felt the first tendrils of control slip into his mind. He took a reflexive step backward. “Another time,” he replied. “I must return to my ship now.”
The illithid’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.
You have a sense of humor, I see. I think I would enjoy taking your thoughts, Teldin Moore, but I must remember my pledge to the elder-brain.
She turned to her slaves.
Take our guests below and put a guard on their quarters until whatever time Teldin Moore feels like talking,
she said, broadcasting her instructions.
A sharp gasp burst from the dracons. “A guard? You mean to keep Captain Teldin Moore
prisoner
?” Chirp asked in a shrill squeak.
“But
kaba
Netarza, this is most irregular,” Trivit protested. The pale green dracon had been standing quietly by, watching his clan leader with growing confusion and dismay.
“Most irregular,” Chirp echoed, obviously in deep distress. “This human rescued us from a beholder, and surely he should be honored and rewarded, not —” Overcome with emotion, Chirp broke off, biting his reptilian lip to keep it from quivering.
The dracons’ chagrin seemed only to amuse Netarza. She reached up and patted Chirp’s dark green cheek.
Take them below,
she repeated, then she spun and walked away.
Elves surrounded Teldin and Estriss, and the two “guests” were roughly herded below deck and through a narrow hall. Teldin glanced back at the troubled dracons, wondering whether he should try to warn them about what lay in store for them. Perhaps such knowledge at this point would only endanger them; it would seem that their safety lay in their continued ignorance. Of one thing Teldin was sure: if he managed to escape the illithid ship – a distinct possibility, given the creatures’ oversight in leaving him armed – he would find a way to bring Chirp and Trivit with him.
When the door to the cabin clicked shut behind them, Teldin turned to his fellow captive. “What’s going on, Estriss? How did you get here? I thought you were —” He broke off abruptly.
Dead?
Estriss finished coldly. He held his facial tentacles stiff and immobile, a clear sign of his emotional detachment.
Illithids require less air than humans, and I survived in the void long enough to be rescued by this group from Falx.
There was so much to say that Teldin did not know how to start, or what to do to bridge the gap of betrayal that lay between them.
“I’ve heard that the mind flayers of Falx were going after the cloak —”
And you assume that I was in league with them,
Estriss finished coldly.
I deserved better from you than to be judged solely on the basis of my race.
Deeply ashamed, Teldin averted his eyes from the mind flayer’s steady, white-eyed gaze. The words Estriss had just formed were not new to Teldin; they had echoed in his own mind since the mutiny, which Aelfred and Sylvie had helped him lead.
“You’re here,” Teldin observed lamely.
Yes, but not by my own choice,
the illithid said. There was a long silence, then his shoulders rose and fell in a great sigh.
Much of what is said of my race is true, Teldin Moore, but I despise the slave trade and all those who engage in it. I find slavery morally repugnant
–
a view, I might add, that is virtually unique among illithids.
Teldin nodded. From the first day he’d met Estriss, he could not consider him a monster, despite his appearance. He could not say the same thing for Netarza and her crew. Those illithids seemed to require a new word for evil. Estriss was right; in their own way they were every bit as bad as the neogi. But even if Estriss was different from most of his kind, there still was much about the past that lacked explanation.
“The threat from the Falx illithids was only one thing of many,” Teldin continued, determined to have the whole truth. “Our first meeting aboard the
Probe
could not have been a coincidence. You came after me. If not to gain the cloak for yourself, then why?”
That is a long story, one better left for another time.
Estriss’s mental voice was suddenly weary, and he sank down on one of a few narrow cots in the cell.
There are more immediate concerns.
“Like keeping the
Spelljammer
out of Netarza’s hands,” Teldin said.
Actually, Netarza does not seek the
Spelljammer, Estriss replied,
though she would hardly turn down a chance at the great ship. She does not know why the elder-brain seeks the cloak, but she harbors ambitions of her own and command of the
Spelljammer
would certainly further them. Most illithids are content to gain power through trade and information; Netarza seeks military strength as well. To what end, I am not sure. She is searching for the homeworld of the dracons, planning to raise a mindless army.
“How can Chirp and Trivit not realize what’s going on?” Teldin demanded. “Can’t they see that they’re surrounded by slaves?”
Estriss shifted his shoulders in a crooked shrug.
The dracons have an inborn sense of order. Each clan must have a leader and a spiritual guide. The dracons’ need for this structure is so imperative that they will die if deprived of a clan setting, and perhaps this need has blinded them to the true nature of their adopted clan.
“They’ve got to know,” Teldin insisted. “When we escape, the dracons go with us. When the time comes, can you convince them?”
The illithid inclined his lavender head.
You have grown in confidence and daring, I see. When the time comes, as you say, I will do what I can for the dracons.
A piercing alarm sounded throughout the ship, its insistent shriek rising and ebbing in a hideous pattern that made Teldin think of an angry, wounded eagle. Footsteps hurried down the narrow corridor outside their room, and the sounds of battle began to ring on the deck above. Teldin tried the door to Estriss’s cabin and found it unlocked. He smiled at his good fortune, cracked the door open, and ventured a look. Their guard was gone, and the corridor was deserted. A woman’s voice soared above the din of battle, raised in a berserker’s war cry.
Dagmar!
Teldin was halfway down the corridor before he realized he had left Estriss’s cabin. Fear gripped him as he sprinted up the stairs toward the main deck. His small crew had no hope of overcoming the illithids’ elven warriors. He drew his own sword, glad that the contemptuous illithids hadn’t bothered to take it from him.
The sight on deck stopped him cold. Somehow his crew had boarded the
Nightstalker,
and they were locked in battle with the illithids’ slaves. Fighting alongside Dagmar was a ten-foot monster wielding a two-pointed halberd with incredible speed and skill.
Shock welded Teldin to the deck as he gaped at the monstrous ally. Roughly humanoid, the creature resembled a bipedal, muscular insect. A large gem was set in the center of the monster’s forehead, and it cast an eerie red glow into the purple light. Two large compound eyes, like those of a giant fly, faced forward, and four more eyes darted about independently as the creature took on newcomers from all sides. Although it was surrounded, the creature did not seem to be in trouble. Weapons clanked harmlessly against its iridescent exoskeleton.
At the edge of his vision Teldin saw a black-robed illithid draw near the creature, its white eyes fixed in a wide, compelling stare. Teldin realized it was summoning a mind blast. Before he could shout a warning to the insect creature, it lunged forward with the halberd, neatly spitting the mind flayer and raising it aloft. The illithid’s legs flailed beneath its black robes, but their motion rapidly diminished to a few jerky twists. With a quick, sharp shake of the halberd, the creature sent the mortally wounded illithid flying into the void.