A neogi. An undead neogi wizard.
A tremendous heat began to burn through Vorr's chest armor. With the first real fear he had felt in decades, General Vorr cut at his armor with his knife, scraping a huge chunk of the glop away and flinging it against a stone wall, where the slime hung, green and glistening.
A dozen pinpricks of white-hot pain stabbed into his face where the green slime had struck him. It was the deadliest living substance in all the known spheres. He had only a dozen or two heartbeats left until the rapidly growing slime devoured his entire body, with all of his weapons and armor, turning him into a vile pool of ooze on the ancient stones of this ship. With a flick of his wrist, he stabbed through the straps holding his plate armor together, hurriedly flinging the chest plate away from him with the vast majority of the slime attached to it. The rest of the upper half of his armor followed only moments later, the sizzling sound becoming more pronounced as the slime dissolved the steel and leather like the most powerful acid.
The clicking of the neogi's claws sounded behind Vorr's back. He spun and saw the little creature as it reached the hatchway down to the next level. He remembered that he still held his slime-encrusted knife, and he threw it.
The blade struck the little spider-being in its neck, knocking it off balance and against the stone wall beyond it. The neogi staggered, then emitted a peculiar warbling shriek.
"Eating at me! Eating at me!" it screamed, and began a mad circular dance around its end of the room.
Vorr felt as if his face had been splashed with acid. He could barely see through the haze of agony. Desperately, he grasped one of the totches from the wall and broke it free of its sconce. The torch flickered as he grabbed it, almost going out. It must have been kept fueled by magic, he knew; now that he held it, the fire consumed the wooden torchstick normally. Eyes and lips squeezed shut, he held his face in the bright searing flames and thought of life.
The war priests came up later and destroyed the test of the slime, including the little spider-shaped pool near the hatch. The magical trinkets by the helm were saved, as was the helm itself. A new suit of armor was brought up for the general.
"The pyramid's ours," said Usso. She avoided looking at Vorr's face directly. The war priests had done all they could for him, but it had not been enough. "We took only light casualties: nine dead, twenty-three wounded, roughly equal between scro and ogres. Most of the trouble came with the umber hulks, especially the ones on the lowest level, but we got them all. The mirror's a high-quality scrying device that let our little friend cast spells through it, just as he said he could. It will take time for me to learn to use it. We found a few other trinkets, but nothing else of interest."
The huge figure sat on a stone ledge and looked down at his hands. Grotesque scars, gouges, and burned patches were chiseled deeply into his gray face and forehead, the damage arrested and healed indirectly by minor spells. Usso swallowed, fighting down the urge to vomit. She had always hated and feared ugly things.
Carefully, the general held up his hands and fingerspelled a few words for Usso to see. His mouth was seared shut.
"The Trident lost part of its hull bottom when we landed," she replied. "It's been moved, but it will sink if it lands on water again. Should we keep it or…" The figure made a cuting gesture with his hands, and Usso nodded quickly. "We'll trip it, then, and use it as a ram if need be."
The general fingerspelled a few more words. Dark eyes poked out from the hideous patchwork of his face.
Usso nodded again. "Certainly. The pyramid is sturdy enough to hold a great many troops. We can-" She stopped as the general began to spell out a long message. Minutes passed as she watched and read and thought.
Finally, the general's hands stopped moving and dropped to his sides. He stared at the fox-woman with dark eyes.
"I can do that," she said. "I have some scrolls that could take care of it. But what if the elves-"
Vorr snorted and waved a hand in dismissal. Usso bit back a retort and considered the general's idea. It was clever enough, and there was no reason it should fail. The pyramid was strong enough. If they pulled it off quickly enough, they could get away with it.
She reflected a few seconds more. This shouldn't interrupt her plans, really. It might even help her in the long run. Vorr would be distracted enough to miss all the clues. She was good at staying on top of things. If she could keep it up just a while longer, she would be on top of the universe.
Her tail wagged.
Vorr saw her do it and nodded thoughtfully. She couldn't read his mind and for that he was glad. Once in a while, though, he wished he could read hers. He'd tell her about the traitor in Teldin's group later. In the meantime, he was glad he'd pocketed the lich's medallion before she'd come up. She would have been impossible otherwise.
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," sa
id 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 atmos
phere 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-"
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