Curbert's was less than a dagger cast ahead of him when he saw the front door open and two figures emerge. He slowed his pace immediately to an apparently aimless stroll. Damn it to the hells, he thought, almost.
It was them all right, the pair that the bartender had described. The woman was short, of relatively light build, but that was all he could make out. She wore an ankle-length cloak of light gray homespun, with the cowl pulled forward over her head. If it weren't for the large figure beside her, Teldin would have paid no more attention to her than to any other Marrakite woman. Her companion was definitely striking, however-striking and familiar. Even though he couldn't see the big man's face, Teldin knew it was the same man he'd seen on the street near the Great Archive-the man who'd prompted that strange, inexplicable reaction in the Cloakmaster.
Mentally, he assessed his emotional reactions, in much the same way he might probe a tooth to see if it ached. This time there was no strange aversion; the figure was just another big man… and a big man who didn't seem to be carrying any weapons, he noted with satisfaction. Teldin let his hand fall to the hilt of his short sword (he'd made sure to bring it this time), which felt more like a broadsword in comparison to his dwarven frame. He picked up his pace, enough to start to close the distance with his quarry but hopefully not enough to draw attention to himself.
The two figures reached the opening of an alleyway that opened to their left, and turned into it. Why? Teldin wondered. To discuss their next step? It really didn't matter. Getting the two of them off the main street so he could talk to them uninterrupted had stood out in his mind as a major problem, one that they'd unknowingly solved for him. He smiled. With them out of his sight-and hence him out of theirs-he could hurry.
He stopped at the opening of the alley and cautiously looked around the corner. The two figures stood close together, not much more than a spear length from the road, apparently engaged in quiet conversation. All the better. He drew his sword and, holding it steady before him, stepped around the corner. "Greetings," he said conversationally.
Two heads snapped around, one framed in curly black hair, the other shadowed. The big man turned an indifferent gaze on Teldin, then his eyes widened and he growled, "It is he!" His voice was rough but emotionless.
Suddenly, Teldin was struck with another mental flash. It wasn't words this time; instead, it was an image as vivid as it was disconcerting. In his mind, the Cloakmaster saw a broad, loose-lipped mouth filled with teeth like daggers. And somehow, he knew that image was associated with the big man before him. Involuntarily, he let his magical disguise fade, revealing his true appearance. He took a step back and leveled his weapon at the man's belly. "Don't move," he barked.
"No."
It was the cloak-enshrouded woman who'd spoken.
Slowly Teldin lowered his blade and turned to the other figure. She'd thrown back her hood, exposing red hair, which shone in the sun like burnished copper. Her white teeth flashed in a smile he hadn't seen since he and Aelfred had set down on the Rock of Bral. Even after all this time, however, all his recollections of this woman-her laugh, her sudden enthusiasm, even the way her hair swung around her neck-were as fresh as if they'd been formed just the day before.
A torrent of conflicting emotions flooded through him: surprise, doubt, excitement, fear, paranoia… but, most of all, a piercing, bittersweet emotion that he tried to suppress before he had to admit its nature.
"I hear you're hiring a crew," the woman said. "Are there any berths still open?"
Schooling his expression to neutrality, he replied, "Let's talk. Come back to the ship with me, Julia."
*****
The large compartment in the "head" of the squid ship was officially the captain's cabin; so Djan had told him. It was so large, however, with two big, circular ports that made up the vessel's "eyes", that Teldin had felt uncomfortable keeping it for his sole use. Against his first mate's suggestions, he'd had the crew move a table in there as well as his personal effects, so it could double as an officers' meeting room. When the arrangements were made, the resemblance to the saloon aboard the Probe was enough to make him smile.
Right now, however, Teldin Moore wasn't smiling. He and Djan sat at one end of the table. Julia-who'd doffed her gray cloak to reveal a green jerkin that perfectly set off the copper of her hair-sat at the other. Behind her and to one side sat the big man, who Julia referred to as Beth-Abz. He was handsome. Broad of shoulders and square of jaw, with thick black, curly hair down to his shoulders, he looked like the very quintessence of the heroic warrior. So far he hadn't said a word aboard the ship and seemed satisfied just to watch everything with calm interest. Every now and again, Teldin shot him a curious look. The strange image of a tooth-filled mouth hadn't recurred, and the Cloakmaster could determine no reason for it to have happened in the first place. He set that train of thought aside and returned his attention to Julia.
The attractive woman shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "I know," she said tiredly, "I know what it looks like, but I didn't follow you here." She opened her hands, palms up. "I didn't even know you were here, Teldin. I heard yesterday at the White Elf tavern that 'Aldyn Brewer' was hiring a crew. Honestly, I'm as surprised as you are."
"You talked to people at other places as well," he said sharply, "not just the White Elf."
"Of course." Her tone was almost impatient. "I wanted to find out as much about what you were up to as possible. I had to…" She paused, looking away uncomfortably. "I had decisions to make."
Teldin was silent for a moment. He wanted to believe her. They'd been friends and comrades aboard the Probe. After the death of the treacherous Rianna Wyvernsbane, there'd been the strong hint they could become considerably more. But then Julia had left the Probe's crew and signed on with another vessel setting sail from the Rock of Bral.
He could understand why; even though she'd never said it straight out, she'd hinted at it often enough. Teldin Moore would never be free to follow his own path, she feared. Even if he didn't subsume his own desires and ambitions to the "enforced destiny" that the cloak seemed to carry with it, the fact that enemies would always be pursuing him implied that he'd always be reacting, not acting. It was a very limited existence; she'd said that often enough. It was also an existence-and this she'd never actually said-that held little space in it for Julia. Unwilling or unable to put herself through what a relationship with Teldin would involve, she'd gone off alone-leaving behind a note reading, "It's better this way," and a lock of copper hair nestled in the fold of the parchment. She'd also left behind a lot of memories, of course.
He wanted to believe her, yet there was still the fact of the six "alley bashers" who'd assaulted him. He was still convinced they'd got their information from someone who knew all too much about Teldin Moore, and here was someone from his past who definitely fit that description. "How did you come to Crescent, Julia?" he asked quietly.
Her hopeful half smile faded. She shrugged. "I signed on with a merchantman setting sail from the Rock to the world of Nivil," she explained, "a safe billet but a dull one. Remember, at the time I didn't really care where I was headed. I just needed to keep myself busy." She shot him a quick glance from under her copper bangs.