Understanding came like a physical impact. For a moment, the world seemed to dim around him. His throat tightened, almost enough to cut off his breathing, and it felt like there was ice in the pit of his stomach. His gaze was locked on Rianna's face.
"Don't look so tragic," she told him. That familiar, subtle throb of amusement was in her voice, and it was enough to make him ache. "It could have worked out a lot worse. The neogi could have caught you themselves."
One too many shocks. Teldin felt numb. When he spoke, it was with a voice devoid of emotion. "You're working for the neogi," he said. She just grinned. "Tell me why, Rianna. I think you owe me that."
She shrugged. "There's no reason not to tell you. Most of what I told you about myself was true," she began. Her voice was as unemotional as his, as if they were discussing nothing more significant than the weather. "I'm a message-runner. That's all I've ever wanted to be-alone in a ship, alone with the stars. You remember the talk we had about the stars?" Teldin's only answer was a curt nod. He didn't want to think about their talks. "I left home young," she continued, "and from then on I was always in business of one kind or another. It took me years, but I saved enough money to buy my ship, the Ghost. And that's when I finally got the life I wanted. Since then, I've done whatever it's taken to guarantee that I'll always have that."
"The neogi," he prompted.
"It happened much the way I told you. I was inward bound from Garden, and I met a neogi deathspider. I turned back to Garden and tried to lose them among the rocks, but they hit the Ghost a couple of times, and my helm went down. When they boarded me, I expected to be killed. I was ready to fight, ready to sell my life as dearly as I could…."
"But you didn't have to," he finished for her.
"I didn't have to. They offered me a deal. They'd set me adrift in space right across the course your ship would be following." She smiled. "They understand humans very well. They knew you'd rescue me. They offered me enough to buy myself a much bigger ship."
"And you trusted them?" he asked with scorn. "Neogi?"
She shrugged. "Business is business. I've dealt with humans who are worse than neogi. At least they kept it on a very professional level, just the way I like it. Plus-" there was real satisfaction behind her smile "-they may understand humans in the abstract, but they don't understand me. I don't want a bigger ship. I want something I can crew myself. The advance payment was more than enough for the ship I'd buy. So if they didn't come through with the rest of the money, I'd still be ahead."
"They have no hold over you, then," Teldin pointed out.
"When I cut a deal, I stick to it," she said sharply.
They'd drifted off the important topic. "So we rescued you," he said. "Then what?"
"Then I was to stay with you and relay information back to them through some other spies they've got on Toril."
Teldin was shocked. "How did they know I was coming to Toril at all?"
"They didn't say and I didn't ask," she answered simply. "They knew you'd be coming to Rauthaven and guessed you'd try to contact the arcane. Barrab was one of their people. So was the bartender in the Pig and Whistle. I got further instructions through those two: to lead you somewhere where we could get the cloak with the least amount of fuss."
"But Barrab betrayed you, didn't he?"
"That pig!" Rianna spat. "He turned. He cut a deal with the mind flayers. I hope it gets him killed."
Teldin stared at Rianna as though seeing her for the first time. In a way, he was. The woman before him wasn't the same person he'd fallen for. "What about us, Rianna?" he asked quietly. "That was a setup, too, wasn't it?"
She laughed. "Of course it was. Didn't you ever think our romance was happening too fast? Are you usually that quick to give your heart and your trust to a stranger? I churned you, Teldin, that night in the tavern. Such a simple little bit of magic, but, oh, so effective."
New emotions twisted within Teldin's breast. Anger was there, anger over being used, but overpowering the anger was a deep sense of humiliation. His cheeks burned with it. He'd been used-used in a way he hadn't imagined possible. His will had not been his own; he'd been nothing more than a puppet, and Rianna had pulled the strings.
With a vast effort, he forced the emotion into the background. "Why are we here?" he asked.
"Why not?" Rianna replied simply. "Why not arrange things so you go-of your own free will-where my employers wanted you?"
Teldin remained silent. After all, what more was there to say?
Rianna studied him, and her smile faded a little. Teldin could read her doubts in her expression: Why is he taking this so calmly? she must be wondering. What does he know that I don't know? Then her face cleared and she laughed, "You're expecting good old Aelfred to help you, aren't you?" she asked in feigned wonder. Her face and tone hardened. "Forget it," she told him. "He's dead. As soon as we left the ship, my men were to kill him, stab him in the back. The Probe's secure, and there's nobody left to make that daring last-moment rescue. How sad." She raised her blade to point at his chest. "Now, your sword, if you don't mind."
Teldin didn't respond. Another friend dead, he thought: Aelfred, of the lopsided grin and hearty laugh, soon to be followed by Julia, of the copper hair, then by himself. Such a long road he'd followed, to end up here. The effort, the pain, the loss-all had been for nothing. All had led-simply and inevitably-to this, the final loss. He looked into Rianna's cold eyes. Why? Was he looking for mercy, for compassion? There was none of that to be found. Her sword glittered in the starlight. The blade was steady. There was: no way she'd hesitate to kill him. "Drop it," she snapped.
He felt dull surprise as he realized he still held his sword- the sword she'd given him. He looked down at the weapon in his hand, then up at Rianna's face. Why not? The thought came unbidden. Why not attack her now? He'd lose, he knew that, but he was going to die anyway. Why not try to inflict at least some faint echo of his pain on her? If I'm to die, why not with the song of steel in my ears? He remembered Gomja, the giff, and the gnome, Dana. They'd both died the way they'd wanted. How did Teldin want to die? Trying to kill the woman who'd betrayed him? Why not?
Rianna had been watching his eyes. Now hers widened and she took a step back from what she'd seen in his gaze. He felt his lips draw back from his teeth in a feral grin.
Do not do this. The words formed, cool and precise, in his mind. It took all of his effort to keep himself from looking over at Estriss. Rianna hadn't reacted: the words hadn't been directed at her.
His mind raced. Perhaps Rianna didn't know that the illithid could communicate privately. Was there some way he could turn that to his advantage? No, there was nothing he could think of, not unless he could talk to Estriss without the others knowing. He gripped his sword tighter.
Do not do this, the mind flayer repeated. A life thrown away is opportunity lost.
Teldin hesitated. The illithid's words sounded somehow like a proverb of some kind, then the meaning hit home. When he'd been growing up, one of his grandfather's favorite aphorisms had been "While there's life, there's hope." To tell the truth, he'd always thought it one of the only really fatuous things his grandfather had ever said. But now, for the first time, he saw the truth in it. No matter how dearly he sold his life, his only payment would be death and the knowledge that the cloak would fall to the neogi. If he waited, there was always the chance-no matter how small-that he could do something to better the odds, even to overcome them. After all, he could make that final, all-out attack at virtually any time. He twisted his body slightly and felt Aelfred's dagger against the skin of his stomach, held in place by his belt. However the big man had guessed, he'd guessed right. Teldin let his feral smile fade and loosened his grip. The short sword's blade rang as it fell to the ivory deck. Showing empty hands, he stepped back from the weapon.