Into the Void s-2

by Nigel Findley

  Teldin searched for some trace of the vanished elf, but with no success. He gave up and took a few moments to think matters through. He had no reason to trust Vallus- By the Abyss, he thought, I've got no reason to trust anybody anymore-but the elf s words made sense. Barrab and crew must have realized Teldin would have to follow a major road to the harbor, and the downhill end of the sloping marketplace would be one of the natural "choke points" to guard. Then he wondered why the elf was trying to help him. He obviously knew about the cloak, and just as obviously wanted it for his own people. Why didn't he just take it himself? Did he doubt his own ability to do so, even with his considerable magical abilities? Or was he just channeling Teldin toward an ambush where he and some comrades could take the cloak more easily, at less risk? If so, following the elf s directions would be fatal.

  He shook his head in disgust. That way lies paranoia, he thought, echoing the words of Aelfred after the neogi attack against the Probe. The choice was basically simple: stick to the crowded thoroughfare, even though his own logic the way would be guarded, or trust the elf. Put that way, the choice was easier. He set off deeper into the alley.

  As Vallus had said, the alleyway soon joined a narrow road, much less traveled than the major thoroughfare. The few people that passed were all intent on their own business and didn't even spare him a glance. That was good. Even better, this road, too, led downhill. He turned right, as instructed.

  This route was much less direct than the main road through the marketplace. It wound back and forth and intersected other roads, but the continuous throbbing pain in Teldin's knee told him it was always heading downhill. His level of paranoia was still high, and he kept a sharp lookout for anything that might be the elf s ambush, but he saw nothing to cause him any alarm. After a dozen minutes, he reached the harbor area.

  He stopped in the mouth of a narrow street, staying as much in the shadows as possible while still keeping a reasonable field of view. He was looking out at what Aelfred had facetiously called the "Widow's Walk." This was the wide seawall that ran around the harbor, traditionally the place where sailors' wives-"sea widows," as Aelfred called them-watched for their husbands' return. By day, it was a hive of activity: longshoremen loading and unloading cargo, hawkers selling their wares from barrows, ships' crews seeking taverns or other diversions, and those whose livelihood came from offering those diversions. At night the traffic thinned out somewhat, though the wandering sailors and the women who beckoned to them never seemed to leave. From his position of shelter, Teldin tried to get his bearings.

  It took a few moments, then the landmarks that he saw matched his mental map of the area. He was on the western arc of the harbor. A couple hundred yards to his left he could see one of the breakwaters that sheltered the anchorage. That meant the harbormaster's building was to his right, as was the dock where people boarded the tender to take them out to their ships.

  That also meant that Barrab and his bravos were somewhere to his right, waiting for him to try to reach that tender. How was he going to get past them?

  Or did he have to get past them at all? He'd been thinking exclusively in terms of the tender-naturally, since that was the way he'd always traveled back and forth to the hammer-ship, but this was a working harbor. There were small boats everywhere, weaving through the larger ships that swung at anchor. Most seemed to be ships' boats, ferrying cargo and crew to and from major vessels, but there were also small skiffs that looked like fishing boats. Wouldn't a port city such as Rauthaven have an active fishing fleet? Most would probably be outside the breakwater, returning before nightfall and readying for departure the next day at dawn. Surely there would be some that weren't at sea, however-in for repair, or to give their crews a day of rest. There would be no way that Barrab's watchers could guard the entire length of the Widow's Walk.

  His first instinct had been to turn to the right, to head toward the tender dock. Now he looked to the left. Luck was with him. The docks a score or two of yards to his left seemed to be those devoted to fishing craft. The people who congregated there were hard-bitten types, many of them older and showing the leathery, weather-beaten faces that he associated with fishermen. A few yards farther on were a handful of younger men who were mending a large net. That looked promising. If the net was being repaired, wouldn't that mean the boat wasn't at sea? Teldin quickly checked his belt pouch. He had perhaps a dozen gold coins that Rianna had jokingly given him as an "allowance" that night at the tavern. Maybe he could hire one of the fishermen to take him out to the Probe.

  He'd been standing in the mouth of the narrow street for too long; his indecision was too evident. On a nearby bench. an ancient scrimshander with a wooden leg had looked up from the piece of ivory he was working, and was watching Teldin with suspicion. He had to move.

  He stepped out into the traffic along the Widow's Walk.

  His nerves felt like taut wires. If his foes could detect the cloak's magic, if discovery was going to come, now was the time. He'd hear the shouts, the grasp of a strong hand, or maybe the bite of Spak's dagger. He struggled to keep his step steady and his expression free of the fear that threatened to dominate him.

  He was concentrating so hard on spotting foes that it took him a few moments to realize that he could see a friend. Up ahead, in the mouth of an alley, was an unmistakable figure. Rianna's hair shone like spun gold in the sunlight. Her face was pale and drawn with pain, but her gaze was steady as she scanned the crowds. Flanking her were two large, brutal-looking men, cut from the same cloth as Barrab's sellswords.

  His heart leaped, and it was all he could do not to break into a run. Forcing himself to keep to the same slow stride, he made his way through the passers-by toward her. With every step, he thanked whatever gods there happened to be that she'd survived.

  He was no more than ten paces from her when her gaze passed over him and continued on. A moment later, he saw her eyes flick back to him and focus on the hilt of the sword at his hip-the sword she'd given him. He saw relief in her green eyes, but she had the self-control to keep her expression indifferent. As if bored with her vigil, she turned and walked deeper into the alley. Her bodyguards flanked her.

  When he saw no one watching, he followed into the mouth of the alley. He glanced one last time over his shoulder, and his heart almost stopped. There were two more bravos behind him. They were twenty or thirty feet away, partially screened by other pedestrians on the Widow's Walk, but there was no way he could fail to recognize them. Compared to the people around them, they stood out like night wolves among a pack of lap dogs. They carried no visible weapons, but judging by their size, they'd rarely need any. Fear tightened in his throat.

  The two bravos stopped right in the mouth of the alley, engaged in apparently casual conversation, blocking the narrow entrance almost as effectively as a portcullis would have. With a wash of relief, Teldin realized they, too, were on Rianna's payroll.

  He turned. Rianna stood a dozen paces deeper in the alley. He rushed to her, heedless now of caution. He made to throw his arms around her, to hug her to him in a grip he never wanted to break, but stopped himself at the last minute, mindful of her injury. Instead he gently grasped her shoulders and just stared into her beautiful face, trying to pour out through his eyes the emotions he could never put into words. She smiled at him, a tired, sweet smile, and he felt that his heart would melt. At this distance, her pain and exhaustion were even more apparent. He could see there was a rudimentary dressing-originally white, but now stained dark-on her shoulder.

  "Are you all right?" he asked at last. "How is your shoulder?"

  "Messy," she admitted, "and painful, but not dangerous." She grasped his wrists. "And you, how did you fare? Oh, gods, Teldin-" there was a catch in her voice "-I hated to run like that, but I guessed that those wolves would sooner pursue the dog that had bitten them than pay attention to you. I see it worked."

  "It worked," Teldin agreed, "but you're hurt for it."

  She shrugged that off.
"I'll heal." Her smile faded. "You're in deep trouble," she told him quietly. "I'm not sure you know how deep. Now, I don't know all the details about this cloak of yours-" she raised a hand to cut off his incipient comment "-and I don't want to know all the details, but I've figured some of it out. There are various groups involved, and they're all after the cloak. Isn't that right?"

  Teldin nodded reluctantly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you everything earlier."

  "You told me what it made sense to tell me at the time," she said. "If I were in your place, I wouldn't have told so much." A brief smile lit up her face. "But I thank you for your trust. In any case," she went on, serious again, "one of the groups is a contingent from Falx. Do you know what that means?"

  He shrugged. "Barrab said it," he remembered. "Who's Falx?"

  "Not 'who,' but 'where,' " Rianna explained. "Falx is a planet." She looked him squarely in the eyes. "A planet ruled by mind flayers. Do you understand what that means?"

  Teldin stated at her. "Oh gods," he muttered. "Estriss."

  "Perhaps," she stressed. "Estriss might be an independent, or he might just be an innocent, like you," she added with a smile, "who got caught up in events."

  "I can't trust Estriss."

  She shook her head wordlessly.

  Teldin had thought he'd become so hardened that further shocks couldn't affect him. He was wrong. His entire body felt cold, and his chest was so tight that he could hardly draw a breath. He stared at Rianna, wishing he could disbelieve her, but he couldn't afford to. Too many other pieces of the puzzle now fit together. How did the Probe come to rescue me? he asked himself. Coincidence? I don't believe in coincidences anymore. He closed his eyes for a moment in despair. Was there nobody he could trust other than Rianna? Not even Aelfred… ?

  No, he corrected himself quickly. The Probe must have been in Krynnspace on Estriss's orders. Not Aelfred's. That, at least, was something to cling to. He looked back into Rianna's eyes. "What are we going to do?" he asked.

  She smiled grimly. "I was hoping you might have an idea, little chum."

  Behind Teldin, steel clashed and a scream ripped the air. Teldin spun to face the alley's opening. One of Rianna's two bravos, her rear guard, was down clutching his stomach and writhing in pain. The other, short sword drawn, was facing three other hard-faced men with naked steel. As Teldin watched, one of the attackers aimed a whistling cut, which Rianna's sellsword parried at the last moment. Rianna's man riposted, but his opponent had danced back out of range, and the bravo had to parry again, desperately, to block a cut from another attacker. The guardian had to give ground, and the attackers were advancing cautiously.

  "Hold them," Rianna ordered from behind him. The two bravos who'd been flanking her rushed past Teldin and hurled themselves into the melee. Swords sang their song of death as Teldin stood transfixed, watching helplessly. The attackers had to be Barrab's men, he told himself.

  Rianna grabbed his arm. Her face was drawn, even paler than before-blood loss, overlaid with fear. "Come on," she yelled, dragging him deeper into the alley.

  He briefly looked back to see that Rianna's three sellswords were still standing, but now were facing six attackers. Apart from the first casualty, who was no longer moving, none seemed wounded. The woman's bravos were still being forced to give ground, and it was obvious to Teldin that they eventually would be overwhelmed.

  "Come on," Rianna screamed again. She was already half a dozen paces down the alley but had turned and was waiting for him impatiently. There was nothing Teldin could do but follow her.

  *****

  Teldin's knee was pure agony. He thought the pain couldn't be any more intense if he stuck his leg into molten lead, but still he forced himself on. At first, Rianna had left him behind, but then she'd realized that he, too, was injured and slowed her pace to match his.

  They'd bolted down the alleyway, then taken the first turn to the right. It was that running turn that had inflamed Teldin's knee so badly. He cried out at the pain of it, and the world went dark and hazy around him. Somehow he managed to cling to consciousness. He'd felt Rianna's hand on his arm, dragging him farther on, and he followed blindly.

  He had no idea how far they'd run, but finally the mad flight ended. Rianna was leaning against a wall, her full chest heaving with exertion. Teldin himself sank to the ground, clenching his teeth in a vain attempt to hold back a whimper of agony. He looked up at Rianna through blurring tears. "How did Barrab find us?" he asked weakly.

  "Find me, you mean," she corrected between gasps. "They probably didn't know it was you back there. Unfortunately, I've got little choice but to wear my own face." She was silent for a moment, her expression that of someone chewing on a bitter truth. Finally she looked steadily at Teldin and told him, "We have to separate."

  "Why?" he demanded, even though he thought he understood her reasoning.

  "Because I'll get you killed. If they catch me, they catch you. I'll give you the names of some contacts. Maybe they can help you out-"

  He cut her off the simplest way he knew how, grabbing her by the shoulders, pulling her body to him, and stopping her lips with his. When they parted, her somber expression had softened. "Forget it," he told her firmly. "We're going to make it through this together."

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rianna gave him a tired smile. "All right," she said, "together. So where do we go from here?"

  Teldin didn't answer immediately. The pain in his bee had diminished from the almost unbearable to the merely abominable. Slowly he worked the joint, testing its range of motion. Rianna watched him silently. Finally he looked up. "It's got to be the arcane," he told her.

  "Why?"

  Quickly he summarized his logic for her. "I've got no reason to doubt T'k'Pek," he concluded. "Once he has the cloak, he should be able to protect us."

  "From the neogi?" Rianna asked. "They've been after you from the start, haven't they?"

  He shot her a sharp look. "I never told you that."

  She chuckled deep in her throat. "You talk in your sleep, little chum." Then she grew serious again. "How do you fee! about the arcane possessing the cloak?" she asked quietly.

  He shrugged. "I don't know," he told her honestly, "but I'd feel worse about the neogi getting it." He paused. "Why in the hells do they all want the cloak anyway?" he asked. "Why is it so important?"

  "I haven't got a clue," she replied, "but there's no doubt it is important. The neogi want it, the arcane, and the Falx illithids…."

  "And the elves," he added. "But why?"

  "Neogi aren't interested in much except power," Rianna pondered. "And they want the cloak. What does that tell you?"

  "It's powerful," he answered. "More powerful than I really want to think about."

  "So it's the arcane?"

  "I don't have any other choices," he replied candidly. Wincing with pain, he forced himself to his feet. The problem hasn't changed, he reflected. It's how to get to the Nebulon. He turned back to Rianna. "Can you get us a ship?" he asked. "Something the two of us can fly?"

  The woman thought for a moment, then shook her head. "I don't have any personal contacts here," she said slowly. "There are places where you can rent ships, but Barrab will have them watched."

  Teldin had figured as much, but he'd had to ask. "It's the Probe, then," he told her. "Can you get us aboard?"

  "Yes," she said simply.

  Teldin looked at her speculatively. No questions? he wondered. No doubts? Does she have such faith in me?

  He glanced up at the sky. It was midafternoon, by the sun. "How long will it take?" he asked.

  "Not long."

  *****

  How many contacts does Rianna have? Teldin found himself wondering. And how many sellswords are trying to make a living in Rauthaven? Rianna had made only one stop, at a disreputable wine shop off a back alley that smelled of ordure. Teldin had waited in the doorway, his eyes watering from the fumes of stale wine, while she spoke with the hard-bitten sailors within. She'
d then beckoned him in, to join her at a corner table from which she could keep an eye on the door. They hadn't spoken as they'd waited; it seemed that both had more than enough on their minds to keep them occupied.

  The proprietor-a big man with a face like a scarred fist-had belligerently demanded that they order if they were going to stay. The two of them sat, each with a cup of wine on the table in front of them now. Out of curiosity, Teldin took a sip of his drink… and almost spat it back on the table. What is it? he asked himself. Vinegar and acid, with some lamp oil added for flavor? With an effort, he swallowed the foul stuff. "Gah," he whispered to Rianna, "my mouth tastes like a latrine."

  She whispered back, "That's the house's best." She turned her eyes back to the door. As she watched it, he watched her. Even exhausted and wounded, she was beautiful.

  To Teldin it felt as though they'd sat in the wine shop for hours, but according to the smoky time-candle burning on the bar, it had hardly been half an hour when a large figure appeared in the doorway. Rianna's face showed relief as she recognized the man and rose to join him. They spoke for a few moments in voices too quiet for Teldin to hear, then returned to the table.

  "We can go," she told him quietly. "I've hired some people to back us-people I can trust-and a boat to take us out to the hammership."

  "From where?" Teldin asked. "Aren't Barrab's men watching the docks?"

  "From the western breakwater," she replied. "And, yes, Barrab did have a man watching the area, but not anymore." She grinned impishly. "Willik here slipped him a few coins to take the afternoon off. It's amazing how loud money talks."

  He grinned back, glad of her competence and seemingly unflagging confidence. "Shall we go?" he suggested.