The Radiant Dragon tcc-4

by Elaine Cunningham

  Her sardonic tone sent Teldin into a burst of surprised laughter. The elf s beauty was so delicate that her sharp-edged wit came as all the more unexpected. What appealed most to him was her straightforward manner. In that she reminded him very much of Aelfred Silverhorn.

  "Come on," he said suddenly. "I've requisitioned a bottle of sagecoarse, if you'd like to come by my cabin for a drink. It's an acquired taste, I'm afraid," he added somewhat lamely, faltering a little under Raven's steady, amused gaze.

  "Sagecoarse! I've already acquired that taste." A mischievous glint lit the elf's unusual eyes, and she reclaimed Teldin's arm. "Lead on, Captain."

  Chapter Eleven

  At first the pounding seemed to be part of the dream. Teldin was back on Krynn, a mule skinner in the War of the Lance, trudging toward yet another battle and choking on the dust kicked up by the league of soldiers in front of him. He awoke slowly, painfully, and his first waking observation was that his mouth felt as dry as that Krynnish road. Dimly he recalled a possible explanation for his condition. He groped for the bottle of sagecoarse-which had been full the night before-and upended it. A single, smoky drop fell to the floor. Strange. He didn't remember drinking that much. Raven had matched his every drink with at least two.

  The pounding continued, more insistent. Before Teldin could respond, the door of his cabin flew open so hard it slammed against the cabin wall. Teldin winced and clutched at his temples, glaring weakly at Vallus Leafbower.

  "Raven Stormwalker must leave the swan ship immediately," Vallus said without preamble.

  Teldin blinked stupidly, trying to make some sense out of the elf s pronouncement. As he did, he hefted the bottle in his hand, giving brief but serious consideration to flinging it at the invader. "All right, I'll play," he said wearily. "Why does she have to leave the ship?"

  Clearly agitated, Vallus raked both hands through his silvery hair. "This is not a matter for jests. You have no idea what she is. She's dangerous, and if she remains on board, she could destroy us all."

  A memory flickered through Teldin's numbed brain, an image of the scaly, night-black head he had seen reflected in the elven woman's face. "What is she?" he asked cautiously.

  Being an elf, Vallus did not answer the question directly. He began to pace distractedly, and the expression on his face made it clear that he was weighing his next words carefully. Watching the wizard made Teldin dizzy, so he closed his eyes and sank back on his cot. With a sigh of resignation he waited for the latest elven saga to unfold.

  "There is a legend from Toril, from a time when humankind was still young, its cities and civilizations still centuries in the future. A certain magical land, a group of living islands, was besieged by an alliance of evil dragons. These creatures attacked not only the elven, fairy, and animal populations, but the good dragons as well. Soon only a handful of the magical fairy dragons still drew breath, and even the powerful silver dragons seemed destined to follow them into extinction.

  "Then an elven warrior, an adventurer named Raven Stormwalker, gathered an army from the far-flung elven kingdoms. She was a fierce fighter, a master of the bow and broadsword, and she had an uncanny ability to rally her troops. Under her banner came a score of races, including good and even neutral dragons. The evil dragons were driven from the island, but Raven Stormwalker was grievously wounded in the final battle. She was carried away by a gold dragon whom she had befriended, and from thence she passed into folklore. She was not seen again, and although there were rumors and legends, no one learned what her true end was."

  Teldin massaged his aching temples. "A point," he pleaded.

  "Raven Stormwalker was a moon elf of exceptional beauty," Vallus continued, as if he had not heard the man. "She wore her night-black hair in plaits that fell to her knees.

  Her most striking feature, however, was her mismatched eyes. One was gold, the other silver. The good dragons considered this a favorable omen, I believe." Vallus paused to let the import of this sink in. "It goes against elven culture to name someone after a hero or a historic figure. I have every reason to believe there is only one Raven Stormwalker."

  Teldin opened his eyes cautiously. "Wait a minute. You think your Raven Stormwalker and mine are one and the same?"

  "Yours, is she?" Vallus asked sharply.

  Teldin flapped one hand in a vague, helpless gesture. "A figure of speech, that's all."

  "I hope so," Vallus mused, looking deeply disturbed. He gazed at Teldin with somber eyes. "There is more to my tale, and it gets more disturbing. Have you noticed that the dracons all but genuflect before her, and the dogged perseverance with which the aperusa pursues her? You should have seen her holding court in the mess at dawnfry. Almost without exception the crew is quite taken with her."

  "So? Maybe they share your fascination with elven history," Teldin said with heavy sarcasm.

  "No." Vallus shook his head emphatically. "The legend of Raven Stormwalker is well known to all dragon races-including dracons-but, except for Toril's elves, few who are not scholars or historians know it."

  "Enough about this thrice-damned legend," Teldin snapped, getting unsteadily to his feet. "How an you tell a tale like this with a straight face? How old would she have to be? One thousand years? Two?"

  "Four," the elf said softly.

  Teldin's eyebrow flew up. "Do elves live that long?"

  "Not normally, no."

  "Then how-"

  "She's not an elf!"

  The wizard's shout shocked Teldin into silence. Vallus composed himself quickly and continued in a softer tone. "Even four thousand years ago, some ships traveled the stars. I believe that Raven Stormwalker took to the stars and met some mishap. She became a survivor. Do you know that term?" When Teldin shook his head, Vallus continued. "A being who is set adrift in the phlogiston does not necessarily die. Some remain in a suspended state for centuries, floating in the rainbow rivers until rescued by some well-meaning fool."

  "I've no idea how you came up with this," Teldin observed with honest astonishment.

  "How, then, do you explain her appearance? Her antique weapons? Even her name?" Vallus asked sharply.

  Teldin gave a helpless shrug. "Look, I'll admit that there's more to Raven Stormwalker than meets the eye, but this theory of yours is beyond belief. Even if-and that's a very big if-you're right about this, what's the harm of it?"

  "A survivor changes," Vallus said quietly. "It becomes an altered demihuman driven by insatiable hungers. To make up for centuries of sensory deprivations, she will take over the minds of every member of the crew, draining us of thought and emotion and intellect like a vampire drains his victims of blood. Not to think, not to know," he concluded softly. "It would be the worst kind of living death."

  Teldin laughed outright, earning a shocked look from the wizard. "I'm sorry, Vallus, but I just can't believe any of this."

  "Oh no? It's happening already. Remember yesterday in the bridge? When we asked her why she took to the stars, she gave my answer. She took it from my mind."

  "Actually, Vallus, it just might mean you two have something in common," Teldin suggested with false gravity. "Are you in the market for a Mistress Leafbower?"

  The elf chose to ignore his gibe. "The aperusa's obsession with her is not normal, and the dracons haven't been themselves since she came on board. Those three have had the most contact with her. I fear for you, Teldin Moore," he said earnestly, "and I fear what would happen to the cloak if she were to hold you in thrall. Next to the power of a survivor, the effect of Rianna Wyvernsbane's charm spell would be nothing."

  Teldin sucked in a sharp, surprised gasp. For a long moment he felt as if someone had gut-punched him. No matter how upset Vallus Leafbower might be, the reference to Rianna was unforgivably tactless. Teldin nodded pointedly toward the cabin door.

  "I'll give your words all the consideration they deserve," he said coldly.

  "Not enough," Vallus insisted. "Any delay could be disastrous. She must leave the ship at
once."

  Teldin cast a glance at the cabin porthole. The rainbow hues of the phlogiston tumbled by in lazy, random patterns. Out there was vast space and unimaginably brilliant color, but nothing else. "How do you proposed to accomplish that?" he asked. "We're several days from any port, and we haven't a small craft to spare."

  "Jettison her," Vallus said firmly. "It's that or lose everything we are."

  Teldin stared at the elven wizard, utterly horrified. He shook his head in disbelief, then, without a word, he yanked on his boots and strode from the cabin.

  Left alone, Vallus sank wearily onto the cabin's only chair. If the human was coming under the sway of a survivor, Vallus would have to take the cloak after all. The elven wizard dropped his head in his hands, and for several long moments he mourned for Teldin Moore and for the loss of his own freedom.

  Teldin came on deck just in time to see the damselfly touch down. A small crowd was gathering around the spindly, insectlike craft, and the elves had their weapons handy. The ever-curious dracons were there, of course. Teldin also spotted Estriss in the crowd and hurried over to him. He had not seen the illithid for several days; Estriss had kept to his cabin and had declined visitors.

  "What's going on here?" he asked the illithid.

  The damselfly appeared, suddenly, just outside of the swan ship's air envelope, Estriss informed him. Teldin noted that the illithid's mental voice seemed somehow edgy, agitated. They raised the flag for ship in distress and then landed. It all happened so suddenly that there was no time to summon you or Vallus.

  Before Teldin could speak, the door of the craft swung open and a lone arcane, bent almost double to keep his blue domed head clear of the door, ducked through the too-small opening. The creature awkwardly descended the rope ladder to the deck. He unfolded himself to his full twelve-foot height, then spread his six-fingered blue hands to show he was without weapons. "I am called Npamta. We mean you no harm. We come seeking trade," the arcane said in the oddly expressionless voice Teldin had come to associate with the race.

  A second figure exploded from the craft, disdaining the ladder and landing on deck beside the arcane with a clank of armor. Immediately elven steel flashed as the crew circled the newcomer, an exotically beautiful female warrior dressed in plate armor and intricate body paint. The woman glared defiantly at the elven warriors. "Where's the dragon?" she demanded.

  A lakshu. Estriss's words formed in Teldin's mind, holding a touch of wonder and excitement. You might meet a reigar after all. The snake bracelet on her forearm is a shakti, a sign that she is pledged in service to a reigar.

  The arcane edged away from the lakshu and shifted uncomfortably. "What my, er, associate means to say is that we're seeking an artifact of great power. The creature who wields it is not necessarily a dragon. It can take whatever form it wills," the arcane explained hastily. "Whatever the case, I will pay dearly for the artifact."

  Teldin tensed, his hand going to the clasp of his cloak. He'd received such offers from the arcane before, but never one that began like this. The magical garment gave him the ability to change his face and form, and although he'd never tried so drastic a change as a dragon, he supposed it was possible. Perhaps one of its previous owners had done so. "The cloak is not for sale," he said firmly.

  "Cloak? What cloak?" The arcane blinked, then stunned realization dawned on its blue face. "You are Teldin Moore, I take it? This is an unexpected turn of events. I have heard of your cloak."

  Then the cloak is not the artifact you seek? Estriss asked sharply.

  "Stick to the point," snapped the female warrior, not hearing the illithid's mental question. She strode forward through the circle of elven blades, batting them aside as easily as another woman might tear through a cobweb. Teldin motioned for the elves to hold peace. She came toe-to-toe with Teldin and glared down at him. "You in charge here?"

  "I am," he said.

  "Good. I want the dragon. That's all. All you have to do is point her out to me, and I'll do the rest," she said.

  For some reason, Teldin remembered his first encounter with Raven Stormwalker and the fleeting image of a dragon he had seen on her face. Now that he thought about it, the perception had all the earmarks of the flashes the medallion brought him. Was it possible that Raven once had owned the cloak? Had she met the lakshu while in a dragon form? Perhaps before losing the cloak she had taken the form of Raven Stormwalker, and had somehow became stuck with it. It was an odd theory, but it was certainly easier to swallow than Vallus's explanation. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Trivit slip away from the crowd and hurry below deck, undoubtedly to warn Raven of the fearsome newcomer.

  "Well?" snapped the warrior, impatient with the man's delay.

  "I'm sorry," Teldin said, flashing the woman his best smile, "but dragons seem to be in short supply on this ship."

  "It could have taken any form," added the arcane. "You will know the creature by the pendant it wears, an antique gold piece set with a dark sapphire. Have you seen such a piece?"

  "I'm sorry, no," Teldin said firmly.

  "But the artifact is on this ship, of that I'm sure," protested the arcane, its blue face wrinkling in an expression of petulance.

  How do you know this? Estriss broke in, broadcasting his words this time so that all could hear them.

  The lakshu sniffed. "When the dragon was a reigar, this obsequious blue bastard couldn't kiss her pendant often enough."

  The meaning of the warrior's cryptic statement hit Teldin like an icy fist. The fal had spoken of other artifacts, objects with powers similar to those of his cloak. The arcane was a wizard-he'd have to be to propel the damselfly-so he could track such an object. Teldin cast a quick glance at Estriss, wondering whether the illithid had come to the same conclusion. Estriss's expressionless eyes gave no indication of his thoughts.

  Teldin took control of the situation. "You raised the distress flag to gain access to the swan ship. Is this how you usually do business?"

  "Our apologies," the arcane said, his voice utterly without regret. "A necessary deception. The ship is perfectly functional."

  "Couldn't hurt to check her over, though," put in Om. The tiny gnome woman had edged her way through the growing crowd to Teldin's side, and she eyed the damselfly with a disturbing degree of fascination. Her ubiquitous wrench glinted in her brown hand.

  Teldin placed a restraining hand on the gnome's shoulder, and turned to address the arcane. "I have no knowledge of the object you seek."

  "Forget the pendant," growled the lakshu. She leaned in closer, her eyes glinting. "I want the dragon."

  "You've made that quite clear," Teldin said coolly. "Now I'll be equally frank. You have boarded this ship under false pretenses, and by your battle garb and demeanor you threaten my crew. I want you off the swan ship immediately."

  The lakshu glared, then shrugged. "Your funeral. Maybe you'd sing a different song if you knew that the last crew who sailed with the dragon is floating through Realmspace in bits and pieces."

  "Viper!" protested the arcane. The lakshu shot him an unrepentant glare, then folded her muscled arms and defied Teldin with her eyes.

  "Realmspace?" Teldin asked. Viper gave one curt nod. "It seems we may have a something to talk about after all," he said slowly. "I will gather the ship officers and meet you on the bridge in an hour. Since there are no dragons to slay on this ship, perhaps you would consider removing your battle armor before the meeting?" He gestured to the wary, armed elves. "It puts the crew off."

  Viper considered the offer. She whipped off her helmet, to reveal rows of tightly braided, vibrantly green hair. The end of each tiny braid was decorated with colored beads, and the flamboyant style complemented the warrior's unusual beauty. Her face was broad, defined by high, sharp cheekbones, fierce black eyes, and green brows that slanted sharply up at the corners.

  "Armor or no, if I find the dragon, she's dead," Viper growled. Despite her harsh words, the lakshu's tone offered a concession.

&
nbsp; "That sounds perfectly reasonable," Teldin agreed with a touch of sarcasm. Deal made, he pointed to the first mate. "Gaston, post a guard to protect our guests from passing dragons. The rest of you, return to your stations."

  Teldin left the strange duo in the care of the elven warriors and went in search of Vallus Leafbower. As soon as most of the crew members had drifted away, Estriss glided silently up to the damselfly. Projecting his thoughts to the arcane and the lakshu, he said, If you wilt trust me, I believe I can help you both obtain what you desire.

  The anger Teldin felt over Vallus's callous attitude toward Raven had not faded, but Teldin felt that the wizard should hear about the new developments immediately. If Teldin's suspicions were right, the quest for the Spelljammer could be more difficult than either of them had dreamed. Not only would Teldin have to battle and evade the many who would take the cloak from him, but he might also have to overcome other potential captains. If Raven Stormwalker was one of these, if she did have the pendant the arcane sought, why else would she be on board but to destroy him?

  To Teldin's surprise, Vallus was quite willing to discard his own theory in favor of Teldin's. In fact, the elf seemed relieved to discard the notion that Raven might be a "survivor." He agreed, however, that the moon elf would have to be watched carefully.

  "Our more immediate concern is the lakshu," Vallus observed. "If Raven does indeed possess another ultimate helm, I'm assuming she used it to take the form of Viper's reigar master. If that is true, the lakshu is looking for vengeance and will not willingly leave the ship until she is satisfied. Even one lakshu can do a great deal of damage, I'm afraid."

  "I don't plan to hand Raven-or whoever she is-over to the lakshu," Teldin said firmly. "I know what it is to be hounded for the cloak."

  The sound of a muffled explosion interrupted their conversation, and Teldin and Vallus quickly made their way to the main deck. The damselfly was gone, and where the ship had stood lay the bodies of the three guards Gaston Willowmere had posted. They had died quickly and silently, their throats cut before any of them could draw a weapon.