The Maelstrom Eye

Chapter Seventeen

"What happened?" Gomja's rumbling voice was barely above a whisper, but Teldin and Aelfred did not have to strain to hear him. Teldin stood, his cloak flapping lightly in the breeze. Aelfred sat cross-legged on the ground, apparently relaxed and comfortable. Sylvie sat to the side on a stool from the ship, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and her hands covering her mouth as she watched. Teldin noticed she held a copper coin in her fingers.

Gomja, still blinking into wakefulness, was tied up so thoroughly that Teldin thought it was a wonder he could still breathe. The barrel-chested giff sat on the ground, propped upright against an old tree stump. His once-pristine uniform was stained by mud, sweat, and crushed grass; rips showed in several places. Some of his medals and gold braid were missing as well.

"What happened?" Gomja repeated, then noticed his condition. "What-what's this? Why am I… what-"

"Your elven friends apparently thought you were in the way, so they moved you," Aelfred said easily. "You'd already served their purposes. Maybe they wanted to shut you up for good to cover their trail when they tried to kidnap Teldin, but they muffed their plan." He looked at Gomja thoughtfully. "I was glad to meet you after all that Teldin had said about you, but I never figured you for a traitor."

Gomja lifted his head and stared angrily at the blond warrior, then drew himself up. "You would not spout such lies if I where able to make you account for them, Mister Silverhorn. You have a brave mouth, but you lack any sort of real honor lich as we giff know."

"Is that the same code of honor that lets you sell us out to the elves?" Aelfred asked suddenly, his eyes narrowed. Gomja quickly turned bright blue with rage. His arms and chest swelled against the ropes and stretched them uncomfortably far. "Untie me, mongrel," he said, "and I promise to give you a personal demonstration of our code of honor, one that you will never forget. You are a vomit-eating dog and a-"

"You were working for the elves," said Teldin angrily, breaking in. "You were helping them to kidnap me so they could get my cloak. I want to know why."

Gomja looked at Teldin, and his manner changed at once. To Teldin's astonishment, the giffs rage was gone in an instant. "That's just not true, sir!" he said in a wounded voice. "I was helping the elves protect you! The very least you can do is to ask the elves themselves. They should tell you all about…" He looked away, his dark eyes searching the vicinty. "Unless, of course, the giant…"

Aelfred grinned without humor. "The giant's dead, and so are your Imperial Fleet buddies. They dropped the spear on this one. We know you set Teldin up to be grabbed. Before we figure out what to do with you, we just want the truth, if we can get anything close to it from you."

"I do not lie!" Gomja roared suddenly, struggling at his bonds. Teldin stepped back at the violence in the giffs voice.

Wildspace scum, I do not lie! If there is a liar among us, it is certainly you!"

"Gomja," Teldin said. The giff looked at him again, anger fading once more from his small black eyes. "I want to know the whole story about the elves, and I want it now."

The giff hesitated, glancing around once more in search of something.

"Talk," said Teldin. "The elves are dead. I want to know how you got mixed up with them, before we decide to leave you here or do something worse."

Gomja slowly relaxed in his bonds as he looked back up at Teldin. "Very well," he said softly, "but it's not what you think, sir. I'm not a traitor. The elves contacted me when we were on Ironpiece. They remembered me from the times I tried to get work from the Imperial Fleet, and they used a spell or device to talk to me. At first I though it was psionics-those are mental powers, something like spells, I think-but they told me it was just magic. We giff know little of real magic, so-at any rate, sir, they-"

"Stop calling me 'sir,' " said Teldin softly. "I think we're long past that point now."

Gomja looked at Teldin in disbelief, his mouth open. Somehow he grew smaller as his face lost all expression. "Yes, sir," said the giff, his voice barely audible. He grimaced as he caught himself. "I mean, yes, I understand." The giff cleared his throat with a rumble, his eyes glistening, then continued. "Well, the first thing the elves did was to warn me of the scro assault. That was on the first night after I pulled you from the water when the Probe crashed into the lake. The elves…" Gomja's voice drifted off as he looked from Teldin to Aelfred and Sylvie, staring for a moment at Sylvie in particular. He swallowed, then looked back at Teldin. "Can we talk privately, sir?" He bit his lower lip. "Sorry."

"Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of these two," Teldin responded curtly. "I trust them." The emphasis he put on the last word was lost on no one.

Gomja looked anxiously at the others, then went on. "The elves warned me not to tell you they were communicating with me, because… there was a spy among your group," he said faintly, looking at Teldin. "Someone was signaling our plans to the scro behind us, and the elves, who were behind the scro, saw the signal lights. The elves didn't know who it was, but they were very much afraid for your safety. They asked me to find a way to go with you and protect you from any"-he looked again at Aelfred and Sylvie-"internal dangers, while the elves would try to fend off the scro fleet with their own ships."

"Old son," said Aelfred with an easy smile, "you're implying that either myself or this lady might be that spy."

Gomja looked Aelfred in the face as he spoke. "The possibility has crossed my mind on a few occasions. I've seen nothing so far that would imply that there was any truth to ii, and is obvious to me that Teldin trusts you greatly, but my first loyalty is still to Teldin's safety. When stake s are high, one should tread carefully and carry a big firearm."

"If you were so concerned about my safety," Teldin said abruptly, "then why did you lead that ship to me so that it could try to snatch me like some kind of war booty? What did they offer you? Gold? A ship? Smokepowder?"

Gomja turned pale blue, but he looked Teldin steadily in the eye. "I can't believe they would have done anything as crude as that, but in any event they offered me nothing, nothing at all. They merely said that if I cared for you, then I would have to help them protect you. They gave me accurate reports in the wildspace battle near Ironpiece. They apologized for firing on some gnomish ships in the confusion. They warned me of the attack on Port Walkaway, and I was able to prepare for it with the help of my troops. They continued to give me warnings about the scro when we were in the phlogiston and when we entered this crystal sphere, and they told me about the scro fleet's presence behind us when we left the rastipedes. They did help us, s-Teldin."

No one spoke. "The elves said that at some point they wanted to talk to you personally," Gomja continued. "They wanted to convince you to go with them to find the Spelljammer. They'd had a change of heart in not becoming involved in your quest, so they followed you. They said it was a good thing they did, too. All they wanted was a chance to talk and help."

"Are you at all aware of what they did when they found me?" Teldin asked heatedly. "They knocked you down on purpose, they tried to kidnap me, and they finally managed to paralyze me with their wands before their ship went out of control and was smashed by that giant. Talk to me? Hell, they wanted this"-Teldin grabbed an edge of his cloak in one hand and held it up-"and you almost helped them get it. Didn't you even have a clue about this?"

Gomja's ears drooped and he appeared to get even paler. His tiny eyes were wide and rimmed with white. "That can't be true, sir!" he cried, forgetting himself. "They promised me that all they wanted to do was to talk to you and help you find the Spelljammer! Maybe they were just trying to get you out of the area, away from the giant. They didn't hurt you, they?"

"If they weren't after me, then why did they turn their wands at me, and not at the giant?" Teldin shouted suddenly. "Why did they treat me like a criminal? Why?"

Gomja looked stricken. He started to say something, but no words came out of his mouth.

"Why?" Teldin said more quietly, stepping forward and leaning down to the giffs wide face. "I'll tell you why. Because they wanted my cloak. If I hadn't shot their helmsman, they would have had it, too." Teldin stabbed a finger into the distance. "You want to talk to the elves? They're over there, smeared over the ground in the wreckage of their ship! If you really were trying to help me, then damn you for not telling me about all this! Damn you for keeping it a secret and nearly getting me killed! Damn you for making me have to kill them!"

No one spoke. Teldin drew back, his face hard with rage. "The only difference between the Imperial Fleet and those scro is that the elves won't cut my throat right away to get the cloak. It must offend their sensibilities, but I have a feeling that they might change their mind on this before long. They can't resist the lure. I was betrayed by an old war comrade on Krynn for this cloak. Damn you, Gomja, I was betrayed by a woman I trusted completely. She tried to kill me, and I had to help kill her! But you! You, of all the-"

"I didn't betray you!" Gomja howled, drowning out Teldin's words. Teldin saw tears forming under the giffs eyes, and they slid down his heavy jowls. "I didn't betray you, sir! I have been trying to protect you ever since you landed on Iron-piece! By all the smokepowder in wildspace, I truly thought the elves wanted to protect you, too! You're my friend!"

For a long moment, Teldin and Gomja stared at one another. Gomja's eyes were now puffy and blue around the edges; he was almost panting.

Teldin felt as if his mind were locked inside a maze with no exit. Had the elves strung the gullible Gomja along? Was he lying through his thick teeth? Or was he just-

"He's telling the truth," said Sylvie quietly, "and he's not charmed. You can untie him and let him go."

Teldin and Aelfred turned to stare at her, as if the half-elf had just turned blue herself, like the giff. "What in the Nine Hells are you talking about?" asked Aelfred.

"I'm reading his mind," said Sylvie, lowering her hands from her mouth. The copper piece was gone from her fingers. "I cast the spell a little while ago. Gomja's telling the truth. I think Admiral Cirathorn found out about him somehow, learned about his past connection with Teldin, and gambled that he could get to Teldin through Gomja. Cirathorn probably would have abandoned the rest of us if he could have gotten the cloak. Teldin's right, too. Cirathorn's not going to stop, if he's really behind this."

"What?" said Gomja stupidly, scarcely daring to breathe. "You're reading my mind?"

Sylvie smiled at the giff. "Not all of it, but just enough to know the truth," she said. "Whatever you think of, I can sense it." Sylvie got to her feet and brushed off her clothes. "Let him go," she said. "We've got to see the fal before someone else dive-bombs us."

Teldin looked from Sylvie to Gomja and felt his rage slowly melt away, leaving behind a sea of emptiness and confusion. At a shrug from Aelfred, Teldin rubbed at his face, looked at the others, then walked over to untie the dirt-encrusted giff.

"Why couldn't you have done this before?" Aelfred mumbled to Sylvie as he moved to help Teldin.

"I couldn't find a copper for the spell, so I borrowed one from Gaye. If you ever need anything, ask a kender."

No one laughed, but it lightened the atmosphere anyway. Gomja sniffed, obviously relieved, and straightened his posture to build his shattered dignity.

"Next time," said Teldin, finishing with one of the giffs arms, "just tell the truth from the start. By the gods, I hope the fal didn't see us acting like this."

There was a pause of exactly two heartbeats.

I did, said a voice in Teldin's head.

Everyone jumped. Aelfred shot to his feet, tugging his sword free. Teldin and Sylvie spun around on their knees, crouching, while Gomja got one arm out of the ropes and hastily felt for a weapon that he no longer had.

The gnomes near the ship cried out, and Teldin heard Gaye shriek, "There it is!" He got up, his own sword in hand, and saw a huge black shape forming only twenty feet from the Perilous Halibut. Although smaller than the gnomish ship, it shared a similarly long and cylindrical form and was equally dark-but the surface of the new form slowly rippled and undulated. The nearer end rose from the ground to the height of a tall man and leisurely looked over the assembled crew.

"Splendid!" cried Dyffed, spreading his arms. "Thirdeen Squared, you look barvelous, simply barvelous! You haven'd changed a bid in sixdy years!"

I am indebted to you, my youthful friend, said the voice in Teldin's head. The now-solid monstrosity by the ship, fully the size and length of a horse barn, was exactly as Teldin had seen it through the thingfinder. Bile rose in Teldin's throat. The sight of the pulpy black monster made him queasy, but he forced himself to be calm. It turned the upper part of its slug-like body toward the gnome, its rubbery tentacles writhing in a seemingly random fashion. You honor me with your presence and that of your companions. You have suffered physical harm in coming here. I grieve to see you so. I ask to repair you damage and see you whole.

"Oh, this?" Dyffed looked down at his mutilated hands, then hid them behind his back as if embarrassed. "Oh, thad's quide all ride, they're hardly a bother now, but I'd afraid sobe of us did ged a drifle knocked around on the way here, and if you could do sobething aboud thad, then we-"

I will do that, said the voice. Teldin suddenly heard distinct gasps from some of the gnomes, and a few whooped as rhey looked down at their now-healed injuries. Dyffed appeared surprised, then carefully unwound the bandages over his hands using his teeth. Teldin saw the gnome thoughtfully examine his hands-still missing certain fingers, but otherwise fully healed. Dyffed looked up abruptly as if someone that Teldin could not hear had just spoken to him.

"Oh, that's quite all right," he said hurriedly. "The pain is gone, and that itself is marvelous." He put a hand to his mouth, running fingers over his lips. "Just wonderful, simply wonderful. One Six Nine, you are the dearest old fellow."

You have suffered the threat of physical extinction in searching for me, said One Six Nine, the large humanlike mouth moving in rhythm to its thoughts. I watched your arrival from my tcha, where my true body lies now, at the peak of the megafauna's horn. You see but my image, created by my powers. I was impressed with your removal of the humanoid colossus by using your damaged quasi-psionk locater device as an aerial missile. You have earned my admiration. You have, however, only limited opportunity for discussion. I acknowledge the imminent arrival of antagonistic forces. You wish to acquire knowledge concerning the cloak Teldin Moore wears?

"Yes," Teldin broke in. "I was told that I had to find the Spelljammer, but I haven't any idea how to find it or even if that's what I'm supposed to do. I haven't been able to talk with anyone I can really trust on this." He colored as he said the last pan, hoping that no one present took offense.

You must come closer, said the fal. Its front tentacles twisted and waved gently in his direction as its fore-part-Teldin couldn't bring himself to call it a head-faced him.

Teldin took a deep breath and approached the fal, coming to a stop a dozen paces from its open, man-sized maw. He found himself staring at the dozens of razor-sharp teeth set in multiple rows inside its circular mouth, like the teeth on a shark's jaw Teldin once had seen on Krynn.

I am not carnivorous, said One Six Nine. The two largest tentacles, on opposite sides of its central mouth, examined Teldin from two widely separate points, looking him over with uncomfortable thoroughness for perhaps a minute.

I am satisfied, said the mental voice at last. You are wearing an authentic ultimate helm. You possess potential of an open-ended nature. You are the Cloakmaster, Teldin Moore, the future captain of the Spelljammer. You need only find your ship to claim it.

Teldin felt as if he had been physically struck. The blood ran from his face. It was difficult to think straight. "I'm what?" he said faintly.

You wear an ultimate helm, a device imbued with the power to command the Spelljammer, the largest and most powerful ship in all known spheres. You must find the Spelljammer in order to take command of it. You have open-ended potential-infinite, unlimited, of import to the gods themselves, given time.

"Of import to…" Teldin's mouth was completely dry. He felt light-headed. "But why me?"

You were randomly selected, said the fal. You were in the right place at the right time, as your kind is fond of saying. I know of no preconceived reason for it. You have taken a path from which you cannot turn back.

It once had seemed to Teldin that he had a thousand questions to ask the fal, but now he could not think of where to start. He took a deep breath, but the fal's telepathic messages flowed into his mind before he could begin.

You need to know much from me, Teldin Moore, said One Six Nine. I fear I may not have much to tell you that you need to know. I have studied the legends of the Spelljammer for an age of time. I have examined trinkets said to bear dues to its origin and whereabouts. I have even seen the Spelljammer as it passed through this sphere six thousand seven hundred twelve days ago, load time, on its endless journey through the spheres. I have deduced from all my research only that nearly all of what people know of the Spelljammer is wrong. There is little that is right.

There was a pause, and Teldin had a mental image of someone smiling wryly at a private joke. He looked around and noticed that everyone standing around him-Aelfred, Sylvie, the gnomes, Gaye, even Gomja, still half-tied on the ground-appeared to be listening to their own internal voices. You should not be concerned that they can hear what I am to reveal you, said One Six Nine, inclining its head in Teldin's direction. I have been able to project my thoughts into others from the time of my generation as an individual, unlike others of my kind, though I can read only your surface thoughts in return. I am able to carry on two such conversations at once- again, a unique ability. I am giving your comrades a speech welcoming them to my abode. I find this an easy speech to give, and I am not troubled by its habit. I wish to speak with you alone now. You fear that you can trust no one. I will strike a bargain with you, Teldin Moore. I will tell you what is true about the Spelljammer if, when you find it, you will return and tell me all that you find to be true about it.

Teldin blinked and dropped his gaze, considering. It was an easy enough thing to promise. The fal obviously was powerful and had no real reason to lie. He had the distinct feeling that it wasn't interested in his cloak in the slightest; only pure knowledge would satisfy it. As far as he was concerned, that was a fair enough price to pay for more practical knowledge. If he fal's advice was true enough, he'd owe the creature a thousand favors.

He made his decision and looked up. "It's a deal," he said imply. "I'll do what I can for you if I make it to the Spelljammer!'

I am pleased, said One Six Nine. I trust you and have faith in your ability. You must listen carefully to my next words.

I must tell you first that you must be prepared to meet dangers that will make all you have seen until now appear tame. You will face uncounted enemies on your quest, their ranks growing with each passing day. You must have courage beyond measure to go on to the end, for even if you retreat from hunting for that ship, your enemies will do their utmost to sky you for your cloak as you sleep. You were, are now, and will be hunted, no matter what you do. You cannot escape this fate. I must tell you second that your cloak is not unique. You have one of many devices with the potential to control the mighty Spelljammer. You are one of many other beings from across the known spheres and beyond who seek the prize of command of that ship. You must move with all speed to your destination if you wish to have a chance at capturing it for yourself, to whatever ends.

"Wait, wait," Teldin mumbled, dazed. He had expected the grim, first revelation, but not the second. "There are Others? But how could there be? I don't-"

I have little time left, Teldin Moore, said One Six Nine almost sadly. I sense the arrival of your enemies is at hand. I muse tell you third that the goal you seek is itself dangerous to you. I have met others before you who sought the Spelljammer, and they have vanished, their ultimate fates unknown to all but themselves. I have heard reliable stories of whole crews who went aboard that ship but were swallowed up by their goal. You must be wary of all dangers when you set foot on its decks, and you must watch for destruction such as no being has ever faced before, for no one has yet successfully prepared for it or escaped it.

I must tell you fourth that I alone know a due to the mystery of the Spelljammer, one that was revealed to me when last the Spelljammer passed through this sphere. I reached out to the ship with my mind, across the millions of miles of open space beneath our sun, in an effort to communicate with those powers aboard it. I discovered in doing so that which I had not expected. I know that the Spelljammer is alive.

"Alive?" Teldin said faintly. "The ship's alive? How?"

I do not know how. I caught only the briefest look into what consciousness it has, and I looked into alien depths I could barely fathom. I captured but one image out of that foreign abyss of thought and dream, one bit of real knowledge. I offer you the knowledge that to find the truth about the Spelljammer, you must seek its birthplace: a broken sphere. I know no more, Teldin Moore.

One Six Nine shifted, raising its forward bulk off the ground so that it towered over the assembly beside the Perilous Halibut. Its tentacles twisted in great agitation.

I sense that your enemies have arrived, the fal said to all. I can do nothing to protect you but to give you warning. You must fight or flee. I am glad to have seen you, Dyffed, my young friend. I send you my best wishes and the hope that we will again meet in peace.

Without warning, the vast black image of the fal vanished.

Teldin stared stupidly at where the fal's head had been, then roused himself and turned to look at Aelfred, Sylvie, and Gomja. With horror, he realized that Gomja was still entangled in rope, and he hastily dropped to his knees to untie his friend as fast as possible.

"You heard him!" Aelfred roared at the top of his lungs. "Arm yourselves! Get to the ship!" The gnomes nearly fell over themselves to comply with his command, squabbling over who would be first to ascend the rope ladder to the ship Gomja struggled to untie a complex knot on his feet, then hesitated, his hands frozen in the act of fumbling with the ropes. Teldin glanced up at the giffs broad face. Gomja was looking over Teldin's head at something in the sky behind him.

"By the arm of the Great Captain," the giff muttered, then bent to finish untying his legs. Teldin risked a fast look behind him, knowing that whatever he saw would be something he wouldn't like.

He was surprised to find that the immense orange butterfly hovering in the sky behind him was actually quite beautiful. The wingspan of the ship had to be three times the length of the Perilous Halibut's hull, maybe five hundred feet or more across. The delicate panes of its purple-veined wings were lit like stained glass by the vast sun overhead. It could not have been more than a few hundred yards above them, silent and magnificent. Teldin could not imagine how it had gotten there so suddenly.

A bit of movement attracted his eye. On the tips of the butterfly's wings were tiny figures wearing the silver armor of the Imperial Fleet.

It was only a moment later that the giant orange butterfly opened fire. Teldin saw something coming right for him, perhaps a ballista bolt. It was too late to dodge it. A moment later, the bolt zipped over his head-and someone behind Teldin gasped and fell.