"Low on the starboard bow," the lookout replied, pointing.
Teldin looked to where the man indicated, below the plane of the Julia, to the right of its twisted ram. Yes, there it was, a black shape against the swirls of the phlogiston. A smooth, curvilinear shape-gracefully downswept wings, a tail that arched up and over the flat dorsal surface…
The Spelljammer!
As realization struck him, Teldin Moore felt the cloak around his shoulders flare to life. Brilliance washed around him, a hard, brittle nimbus of blue-white light he'd never seen before. The amulet, suspended around his neck on its chain, throbbed and pulsed against his chest. For an instant, unbidden, an image of the Julia itself-distant and tiny against the crystal shards-filled his mind. He knew that he was seeing himself, through the perceptions of the Spelljammer. Then the image was gone.
Supernally heightened perception lingered, however. He drew a breath and felt the air chill his throat and his chest. He felt the oxygen absorb across the membranes of his lungs and spread into his bloodstream. The palms of his hands could feel the grain of the wooden rail that he grasped, could sense every detail of its fibrous structure.
He could sense every element of his own structure as well-every muscle fiber, every nerve. His skin was unnaturally sensitive, feeling the complexity of the fabric's weave as his clothes brushed against it.
"Teldin, what… ?"
He turned slowly to see Djan skid to a halt on the battle station.
It was as if he'd opened his eyes for the first time, the Cloakmaster thought, was truly seeing for the first time. He could see every detail of his friend-every hair on the half-elf s head, every pore in his skin, as a distinct element. And more: it was as if he could see deep within him as well, down into his soul. Djan's emotions washed over him, became one with his own…
Then it was over. The transcendence, the epiphany, could only have lasted a few moments, but, subjectively, it could have lasted for years, a lifetime, an eternity. The blue-white nimbus faded, as did the Cloakmaster's hyperacute senses, but the calmness-the sense of centeredness, of peace, remained.
He smiled at Djan, a smile of wonder. He pointed forward and down. "It's there," he said quietly, calmly. "The Spelljammer. I've found it at last."
The half-elf dashed to the rail and stared in the direction that Teldin had indicated. A smile spread across his face-a tentative smile, though. With the last remnant of his enhanced perception, the Cloakmaster sensed his friend's mixed wonder and trepidation.
"I see it," Djan confirmed. "What do you want to do?"
"Bring us closer," Teldin said simply. "Close with the Spelljammer."
As Djan sprinted into the ship to relay the order, the Cloakmaster turned back to stare at the object of his quest.
The great manta ship had already maneuvered, he saw at once. Rather than viewing it from the side and slightly above, he now looked full onto the Spelljammer's bow. The mysterious vessel was closing with him.
Sudden fear jabbed at his heart and throat. It was closing fast-already traveling faster than any vessel had a right to, and still accelerating. Against the chaotic backdrop of the Flow, the dark shape swelled alarmingly.
An attack run! With horrible clarity, he knew: the Spelljammer was attacking the nautiloid.
Why? He wore the ultimate helm, didn't he?
But, then, weren't there other ultimate helms in the universe, other contenders for the great ship?
What if someone else had reached the Spelljammer first, had taken control of it? And what if the new captain's first priority was to eliminate all potential rivals-among them Teldin Moore?
"Battle stations!" His scream was so loud that it tore his throat. He was unable to wrench his gaze from the onrushing world-sized vessel.
"Evasive action!" he ordered, but he knew it was already too late.
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Document creation date: 13.09.2008
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The Broken Sphere s-5 Page 31
