The Radiant Dragon

Chapter Seventeen

The return trip to the swan ship was swift and perilous. Still in their yeti forms, Teldin and Raven struggled with the oars for only a few minutes before Raven decided to shapechange into one of the giant, eellike fish that abounded in the icy waters, so that she could tow the longboat back. As soon as she made that announcement, she rose and dove into the water, disappearing into the turbulent sea. A dubious Teldin tossed a tow line overboard, and the longboat took off with a jerk that sent him tumbling to the floor. With one paw Teldin desperately clung to the side of the boat; with the other he held on to the unconscious half-elf. The longboat sliced wildly through the choppy waters, leaving behind it a small wake. Again and again the boat thudded painfully down after hitting a particularly large wave. By the time they were within sight of the Trumpeter, Teldin felt battered and exhausted just from the effort of staying in the boat, and he feared the effect the wild ride might have had on Hectate.

The longboat's momentum slowed abruptly, and Raven's eel head poked out of the water, along with a foot or so of scaly neck. Teldin watched, dumbfounded, as the upper part of the creature changed into the familiar head and shoulders of the elven woman. The part of Raven still submerged in the icy water retained its fish form. As she dragged herself up and into the longboat, the metamorphosis worked its way down her body. Finally she tumbled over the side and into the longboat, fully clothed and completely dry. The elf met his astonished gaze with a tolerant, one-sided smile, and Teldin realized that he was gaping like a beached carp. His fanged jaws closed with an audible click.

Fangs. There was that problem again, Teldin thought ruefully. In his current, goblinoid form he hardly could expect a kinsman's welcome from the elven crew, but if he reclaimed his human form, he'd board the Trumpeter clad in nothing but gooseflesh and a cloak. With a sigh of resignation, Teldin willed the cloak to grow out to its full length. He drew the dark folds over his broad, furred shoulders, hoping that the elves would discern his true identity from the magical cloak.

"Change your face back," Raven suggested. "Just your face. Keep the fur so you don't freeze, but scale the body down to something approaching your normal build."

Teldin quickly followed her advice. As he felt the goblinoid features melting away, he felt only relief. Using the cloak's power to change his appearance no longer bothered him; he'd come to regard the magic cloak as a tool and a weapon, and refusing to use it when required made no more sense than leaving his sword sheathed during battle.

As they rowed the last few yards to the swan ship, Teldin saw a light in the ballista portal. To his surprise, Rozloom was in the hold, holding a lantern aloft and peering anxiously outward. A broad grin wreathed the aperusa's face when he caught sight of the longboat, and, as soon as Raven had secured the ropes, the gypsy winched the craft up and into the hold.

"Captain!" he boomed. He grasped Teldin's furry hand and pumped it vigorously, but his eyes were only for Raven. "I am so pleased that you are not dead."

Teldin nodded his thanks and tugged his hand free. He stooped to lift the half-elf from the longboat. "Rozloom, can you take Hectate to the healer? I'll be along as soon as I change."

For the first time the aperusa's eyes focused on Teldin's furred, yetilike body. His bushy black brows shot up, but he merely nodded in agreement. "That, I see, could take time. I will care for the captain's friend, then I will come and see to the longboat. You need not trouble yourself with it." The aperusa easily took the half-elf in his large arms, and he bounded up the stairs toward the main deck.

"The elves will have questions," Raven pointed out.

"They can wait," Teldin replied firmly. "If you run into Vallus, would you let him know I'll be around to see him as soon as I can? I'll be with Hectate, and I'm not to be disturbed. If you think it's necessary, post the dracons at the infirmary door and mine to keep out intruders." He met her eyes squarely. "After Hectate's settled, you and I need to talk. It's time."

A slow smile spread across Raven's face, and she nodded in approval. "I think you're right, Captain."

While Deelia Snowsong checked Hectate over for injuries, Teldin paced restlessly around the infirmary until Rozloom pushed him into a chair, insisting that Teldin was giving everyone in the room "the seasickness."

Still the captain fidgeted, watching the immobile half-elf with deep concern. It still seemed incredible to him that Hectate could have survived the crash at all, much less have escaped serious injury. That was the conclusion Deelia had reached. With a shrug, she claimed she could find nothing wrong with Hectate beyond a mild case of frostbite.

The moment the elven healer left the room, Rozloom shook his bald head in vehement disagreement. "The pale one, she is beautiful but not wise," he rumbled. "To the captain's dear friend she should give better care. These elves, they have too little regard for those not their own."

For once Teldin found himself in wholehearted agreement with the gypsy. He looked appraisingly at Rozloom, remembering that Hectate himself had praised the aperusa's skill with potions. "What would you do differently?"

Rozloom shrugged. "Herbs and simples, given often with broth, to warm the body, stir the blood. With such care, your friend should soon mend. Also, one should watch over him while he sleeps."

"Would you do this?" Teldin asked, having little hope that the self-absorbed gypsy actually would agree to such a task.

"I? But of course."

"You would?" Teldin demanded, startled by the unexpected response. "Why?"

"Why, why. Always with you it is why, Captain," the aperusa said in a hurt tone. "Must a man always have a reason?"

The door cracked open and Deelia's pale, lovely face reappeared. "I'll stop in to check on the half-elf from time to time."

Teldin thanked her and shot Rozloom an arch glance. Not at all disturbed at having his romance found out, the aperusa merely smiled and preened his curly beard.

Leaving Hectate in the aperusa's care, Teldin made his way back to his cabin, noting with satisfaction that the attentive Trivit was stationed at the door. The dracon's face was unusually grave. Raven must have put the fear of the gods into the young dracons, Teldin noted with a touch of amusement.

Raven. Teldin sighed heavily. The time had come to settle matters with his strange ally, but he felt reluctant to seek the answers he needed. He was pretty confident that he wouldn't like them.

Teldin went to his sea chest and removed the book he had borrowed from Vallus days ago. Before he had it out with Raven Stormwalker, he wanted some insight into her true nature. Maybe then he'd be somewhat prepared for whatever she had in mind. He settled down at his writing table and quickly leafed through the book, scanning descriptions of familiar races as well as creatures that stretched his imagination.

One entry caught his eye and, as he read it, bits of information he had collected about "Raven Stormwalker" fell into place: fleeting visions of golden eyes and a black, scale-covered face; Raven's natural ability to shape-shift; the dracons' reverent awe of Raven and her own delight in adulation. Then there was Raven's pendant. It matched the description given by the lakshu, whose search for the "dragon's helm" followed a path that had led from Realmspace to Teldin's ship. The wildspace dragon that he'd seen through the Spelljammer's eyes-and the medallion's power- had been in Realmspace. It all came around, full circle, to an inescapable conclusion.

Teldin dropped the book on his lap and slumped back into his chair. The truth about Raven's identity had been before him all along, but it had been simply too enormous to accept. Her true form, her true nature, was that of a dragon.

And not just any dragon. The creature he knew as Raven Stormwalker was a radiant dragon: a magical creature that in maturity could reach a length of almost one thousand feet. It could travel the stars under its own power, shape-shift into any form, and breathe magical balls of force-which would explain the lakshu's violent death, Teldin concluded dazedly.

He bent over, burying his face in his hands. He briskly rubbed his face, trying to take it all in. The radiant dragon had an ultimate helm, and if the magic amulet was to be believed, she already had been within sight of the Spelljammer. What, then, was she doing here? Why hadn't she taken command of the great ship? Had she tried to do so and failed?

Teldin remembered his amulet-induced vision of a radiant dragon speeding away from the Spelljammer in a rage: this was the creature he had planned to confront. He pushed away from his writing table and stood, pacing about the small room as he tried to bring order to his whirling thoughts.

As far as Teldin was concerned, an ordinary, fire-breathing, garden-variety dragon would be trouble enough. He'd seen such a dragon back on Krynn, and even in death it had been a fearsome creature. If anyone had told him then that he would consider a pact with such a creature, he would have thought him insane. Of course, back then Teldin wouldn't have believed that any of this could happen to him, nor could he have envisioned the odd creatures he had since befriended.

As the shock wore off, Teldin tentatively began to put his strange ally in perspective. He had dealt with many creatures equally strange: Estriss, a brain-eating illithid; Chirp and Trivit, the centaurlike lizards; Gomja, a militant blue-gray humanoid hippopotamus; even the fal, a brilliant garden slug the size of a space vessel. So why not a dragon? Why the hell not?

Of course, these alliances had not been without problems. There was Estriss, for example. Teldin had tried not to think about the illithid since the day Estriss recently had left without word. Teldin's faith in his friend, and in himself, had been sorely strained by the defection.

Teldin stopped at the foot of his cot and glanced down into the open sea chest. The strange figurine that Estriss had left behind still lay there, untouched. The ancient statue seemed to beckon him, and Teldin absently reached down to pick it up.

By the time you discover my messenger, Teldin Moore, I shall be gone.

The words formed in his mind with liquid clarity. Startled, Teldin dropped the statue. It clattered to the floor, and immediately the familiar mental voice stilled. After Teldin recovered from the initial shock, it occurred to him that Estriss might have ensorcelled the statute to "speak" in his place. He'd never heard of such a thing, but he supposed it could be done. Curious now, he stooped and picked up the ancient figurine.

I regret my hasty departure, but I have compelling reasons for leaving you. The arcane Npamta has seen the Spelljammer, and from him I can learn more about the great ship than I could discover in a century of study. More importantly, he may be willing to lead me there, though I know not how.

You must follow your own path to the Spelljammer, Teldin Moore. I had hoped to accompany you on your quest, but, as the bearer of an ultimate helm, you attract many enemies. Your road may well be long and filled with danger. I am not by nature a coward, but I am no longer young. We have spoken many times of my lifework: proving the existence of the Juna. Such an opportunity as the arcane presents cannot be passed up. It may be my last.

The illithid's mental voice paused, and Teldin found himself nodding in understanding.

There is another matter. You soon will discover the slain body of the lakshu warrior. I witnessed her death. She was killed by the being who calls herself Raven Stormwalker. The attack confirmed what I have long suspected; the elven woman is not what she appears to be. She is a radiant dragon and bears an ultimate helm. What this means for you I can only guess, but tread with care. Her presence on the swan ship is another reason I must leave. There is long-standing enmity between her race and mine. I would not long be safe from her, and, in all honesty, I would destroy her if an opportunity arose. Should I attempt and fail, she could easily crush the swan ship in her rage.

This is farewell, Teldin Moore. If the gods smile upon your quest and mine, we will meet again soon aboard the great ship.

Estriss's voice faded from Teldin's mind, and the captain carefully placed the now mute statue back into the chest. He hoped that Estriss did find the Spelljammer, and on it the answers he sought. Teldin had no idea what trials awaited him aboard the great ship, but he cherished the thought that a friend might await him there. The prospect of being greeted by a friendly face, even one decorated with tentacles, was more than Teldin had hoped for. A deep sense of peace filled him, and for the first time he truly believed that his search could end in success.

With a new resolve, Teldin left his cabin in search of the radiant dragon.

Vallus Leafbower confronted him the moment he'd left the dracon-protected seclusion of his cabin. "You might have told someone you were leaving the ship," the elf said.

"And I suppose you would have endorsed the mission?"

The question, spoken in a woman's sarcastic voice, surprised them both. They turned to see Raven standing at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed and a supercilious smile aimed at Vallus.

Vallus cast a quick glance at the moon elf and turned his attention to Teldin. "That was a foolish, unnecessary risk."

"Actually, it was the best thing I've done in a handful of days. If you'd known what I had planned to do, you'd have tried to stop me. No, don't bother to deny it," Teldin said coldly when Vallus began to protest. "I'm tired of pretending. The truth is that from the day I was carried aboard the Trumpeter, I've been a prisoner. Your talk of recruiting me to the elven side is so much scawer dung. The elves intend to have the cloak, whether it's on my shoulders or someone else's. Use it or lose it. That's the extent of my choice, isn't it?"

As Teldin spoke, Raven climbed the stairs. Vallus cast an apprehensive glance in her direction. "Perhaps this conversation should be held in private."

"This is her business as much as mine," Teldin said firmly. "She carries an ultimate helm, too. Do you plan to keep her prisoner as well?"

Raven looked amused at the concept, but Vallus's eyes shifted from her to Teldin with growing concern. "Another helm?" Raven responded by waggling the sapphire pendant. Vallus took in her smug expression and the way she stood at Teldin's side as if they were closing ranks against a common enemy.

"What part does she play in this?" Vallus asked Teldin.

Teldin turned and met the dragon's eyes squarely. "I haven't decided yet."

She blinked, astonished by the hard edge in his voice. "He hasn't decided yet," she muttered under her breath. A smile spread slowly across her elven face, and she extended a hand to Teldin.

"My true name is Celestial Nightpearl. Pearl for short. I'm your new partner."

Teldin didn't pretend to be surprised by her offer, but neither did he take her hand. "Your terms?" he asked. As he spoke, words that Aelfred Silverhorn had spoken long ago flashed through his mind: Bargain with a dragon, and you're a fool or a corpse. Teldin wasn't entirely sure his late friend had been wrong, but the dragon needed something from him or she wouldn't be here. He determined to keep their deal on an even footing; he had no intention of exchanging his unwilling alliance with the elves for another kind of servitude.

Pearl shrugged and withdrew her offered hand to grasp her sapphire pendant. "Your cloak has many powers. So does this bauble. Maybe you can imagine the mess we'd make if we decided to fight it out." One corner of her mouth twitched into a wry, lopsided smile. "Unfortunately, I don't have to use my imagination. I've fought other would-be captains, and to prove it I've got scars in places even Rozloom hasn't thought about."

Teldin felt a surge of sympathetic understanding; he knew what it meant to be hunted for his ultimate helm. Yet he didn't completely believe her claim. A radiant dragon had little to fear from him, despite the powers of his cloak. Or did she? The cloak had untapped powers, of that he was sure, but was its potential such that a dragon might fear him?

"So you're proposing a truce?" he asked cautiously.

"A partnership," she stressed. "Plainly put, you want the ship, and the ship wants a captain. I'd just as soon that not be me, though I wouldn't mind if a little of the power and prestige from the job came my way. So this is the deal: I'll take you to the Spelljammer, you'll be the captain, and I'll go my own way. From time to time, we could join resources for mutually advantageous adventures."

"Why don't you want the Spelljammer yourself?"

Her answering smile was vanity personified. "Who needs it?"

Teldin nodded. What use would a radiant dragon have for a spelljamming vessel, even the spelljamming vessel? She probably considered a partnership between a radiant dragon and the Spelljammer an even exchange.

"Mutually advantageous adventures?" he asked.

"We did all right on Rakhar," she said, a comrade's gleam in her odd-colored eyes.

Teldin acknowledged that with another nod. She'd helped him when he needed her, no questions asked or strings attached. He glanced at Vallus Leafbower, who was listening to the exchange with growing dismay on his angular face. What Raven-Pearl, Teldin corrected himself-offered was more to his liking than the elves' proposal. And, he had to admit, he liked being around her. In many ways, the dragon reminded him of Aelfred: full of zest for life and always ready for a new adventure. Still, she was keeping something from him; Teldin was sure of that, and, despite their friendship, he'd have to keep alert for whatever that secret might be.

It was friendship that passed between him and the dragon, a healing, helpful thing that he suspected surprised the dragon even more than it did him. With the sudden, crystalline clarity he'd come to take for granted, Teldin knew the benefits of having a dragon ally would outweigh the risks. Taking a deep breath, he extended his hand to seal their pact.

Vallus seized Teldin's wrist. "Surely you don't intend to join forces with this… with Raven Storm-" He broke off and shook his head. "No," the elf corrected himself sharply. "She is not Raven Stormwalker. That elven hero died many centuries ago."

"I'm feeling remarkably well, considering," the elf-shaped dragon murmured.

"My point, Teldin Moore," Vallus continued in a determined tone, "is that you cannot trust a being who is willing to misrepresent herself so blatantly. By all the gods!" he exclaimed, throwing up his hands in exasperation, "you don't even know what sort of creature she might be."

"Actually, I do," Teldin said.

Two sets of elven eyebrows shot up. "You do?" said Vallus and Pearl in unison.

The dragon-turned-elf shook her head and chuckled, as if she'd made a conclusion. "Well, what do you know. Most humans would have turned tail and run. Or turned up their toes and died, just to save me the trouble. You play cards, Captain? Too bad. The way you bluff, you'd be a natural at High Paladin." She peered closely at him. "Are you sure you're not afraid of me?"

"Should I be?" Teldin retorted.

She threw back her head and laughed delightedly. "Probably, but don't bother. Being worshiped and adored is all fine and well, but I must admit, I like your salt."

Vallus stepped forward and clasped Teldin's forearms.

"You must reconsider this. Whatever she is, you have no idea where such a course of action will take you," he said earnestly.

Not sure whether Vallus was warning or threatening him, Teldin pulled free of the elf s grasp. His angry response died unspoken as his eyes caught a distant flicker of light, and his face went slack with horror.

The twin mountains of Rakhar thrust upward into the night sky, gleaming in the bright moonlight like polished tusks. Teldin blinked several times, praying that his eyes had been playing tricks. No, there was another light, and then a third, reflecting off hulls. Several ships were leaving Armistice, moving steadily upward toward the converging moons.

"Great Paladine," Teldin swore. He grabbed the elven wizard's shoulders and spun him around. "See that? The orcs are taking to the stars. We're going after them."

"Kermjin is on the helm," Vallus said in immediate agreement.

"Get him off." Teldin's voice was inexorable. "The secondary helm's too slow. Raven, we'll need yours. Use the bridge and have Kermjin stand by to take over later on, in case we need you elsewhere."

"Pearl," the dragon-woman reminded him pointedly, but she hurried up toward the makeshift bridge to relieve the helmsman. Teldin glanced up and caught a glimpse of pale pink light through the door of the makeshift bridge, and he turned to other matters.

"Vallus, prepare the crew for immediate flight, then get them to battle stations. Send the weapon master to the bridge."

The wizard nodded and hurried to sound the signals. The moment the high, piping tune soared through the ship, the crew members braced wherever they were. Teldin gripped the stair railing and planted his feet wide apart.

The Trumpeter rose straight up, so suddenly that it burst free of the water's hold with a sound like a small explosion. The swan ship's ascent was smooth, uncannily so after the constant pitch and roll of the Armistice ocean.

As he hurried up the short flight of steps to the bridge, Teldin took stock of the ship's chances. Of the original elven crew, only eighteen had survived the bionoid attack. They were barely enough to run the swan ship, much less battle a small fleet of ships. Even with the cloak's magic, the coming battle was no sure thing. He was glad he'd had Kermjin stand by in case a better use for Raven's-Pearl's! — talents arose.

Teldin found Pearl seated cross-legged on the navigation table, star charts scattered around her. The pink glow from her spelljamming sapphire filled the small room, and her face was tense and bright with exhilaration. Whatever else she might be, Teldin noted, she was a born adventurer. He turned and squinted out the bridge window to the trio of ships ahead. Under Raven's helm the swan ship traveled unbelievably fast; in moments they were closing on the nearest goblinoid ship.

The main body of the vessel was a giant mollusk, the round, winding shell of a typical illithid ship. In front of the shell, however, was a long, shallow hull much like that of a drakkar. Huge, tusklike protrusions thrust upward from the bow, and between them was mounted what appeared to be a giant slingshot. Attached to the bottom of the hull were long, jointed legs that could have come from any number of ships: a wasp, damselfly, even a neogi spider ship. An involuntary shudder coursed through Teldin.

"What the hell is that thing?" he muttered.

"What isn't it?" Pearl retorted in the distant, detached voice Teldin had come to associate with a spelljamming wizard. "It's got more ingredients than one of Rozloom's soups."

"Slow to tactical speed," Teldin directed her, and immediately the swan ship complied. "We're almost in ballista range," Teldin guessed, turning to the weapon master. The slight elf, whose face was tattooed in whorls of green and brown, nodded grimly. "Take over, Quon," Teldin directed.

The elf stepped to the speaking pipe that led down to the cargo deck, where the fore ballista was mounted. As he did, the orc vessel ahead began to execute a clumsy circle. Teldin raised his brass looking tube, and he could just barely make out a cluster of gray orcs bustling around the ship's large weapon. He gripped Quon's shoulder. "Get them before they bring that slingshot thing to bear on us," he commanded.

The elf shouted down the order to fire, and an enormous bolt shot toward the orc vessel. It missed, soaring harmlessly over the low hull. Before the ballista crew could get off another bolt, a fireball sped toward the orc ship and its wooden hull exploded in flame. Suddenly off balance, the shell section began a dizzy, spiraling descent to the icy waters far below.

"That's one," Teldin said with satisfaction, clapping Quon's shoulder. "Keep picking them off." He left the bridge and went to the stern, where Om frantically was making last-minute adjustments on the "improved" tail catapult. Trivit and Chirp stood ready beside a pile of what appeared to be boulders and spikes. A glance over the rail showed Teldin the reason for the gnome's frenzy. A second fleet of ragtag vessels-at least a half dozen bastard dragonflies-was coming up behind them.

"Almost in range," Om muttered with a worried glance at the approaching ships. She caught sight of Teldin and rose to her feet.

"Stomp and spit, Captain," she said solemnly, naming a gnomish ritual for courting luck, then she threw herself against an oversized lever.

The catapult shot forward, and, with a sharp intake of breath, Teldin watched its strange payload unfurl. Om had rigged up a number of giant bolas: large, spiked balls connected by lengths of chain. One missile spun end over end toward an insectlike ship, and the spikes of the first ball bit deeply into the wooden hull. The second ball hurtled around the ship, held in orbit by the long, stout chain, gaining momentum and snapping off legs with each cycle. Its final impact shattered the vessel into flame and flying splinters. Another bola tore through a second dragonfly's wing, whizzing through the fragile substance. The one-winged ship tumbled out of control.

Om grinned and cranked back the catapult for a second shot, and the dracons quickly loaded a second pile of the gnome's lethal bolas into the weapon.

By the time the swan ship shuddered through the atmospheric boundary, most of the ragtag fleet had been destroyed. The "battle" was over in minutes without casualty or damage to the swan ship. Teldin should have been pleased with the ease of their victory, but he felt restless and uneasy. Something was wrong. The orc and goblin ships all appeared — to be heavily armed, but not one of them had so much as fired on the Trumpeter.

A deep foreboding filled Teldin, and he sprinted toward the bridge.

For the third time in a millennium, the magical alarm on a man-o-war patrol ship sounded.

The only living occupant of the ship's bridge, a bloated tertiary Witchlight Marauder, aimed an incurious stare at the pulsing disk suspended over its head. The monster reached up toward it, and two of its swordlike fingers bracketed the thick mithril chain. With a casual, effortless snap, the creature brought the blades together and severed the chain. The disk hit the floor in a shower of spraying fragments. The tertiary marauder picked up a large splinter of crystal with dexterous foot claws and tossed the shard up and into its gaping maw.

It crunched, considered, then spat. Silently the monster directed its rapacious appetite back to its preferred food, and the bodies of the ship's captain and battle wizard quickly disappeared. Over the monster's head, the image of a ragtag goblin fleet and a battered swan ship slowly faded from the crystal panel.