The star patterns hadn't been any help. Even now that they were within the Vistaspace crystal sphere, Djan and the navigator had charted only a fraction of the system's stars. The patterns he'd seen hadn't matched anything on those incomplete starcharts. But that didn't really mean much, one way or another, did it? Also, the bright blue-white sun might have been the primary of the Vistaspace system, but it might just as well have been in an entirely different sphere. At least he still hadn't seen any hint that the Spelljammer had passed through a portal into the Flow, or that it was about to do so in the near future.
Throughout his contact, he'd also tried to connect with the mind of the mysterious ship-if it had anything resembling a mind-not just its wide-ranging suite of senses. Some tinge of emotion-or thought, even-might have given him some clue as to his quarry's location. But, though he'd sometimes felt such emotions in the past-or thought he had, he forced himself to add-nothing came through the link this time.
After an hour he'd let the contact slip away, returning to a physical body that was panting with exertion and drenched in cold sweat. Nothing.
Still, the Spelljammer had been here. It had passed close to Garrash itself, apparently sailing right through the fire ring. And, during its passage, the ship had sensed other vessels-if that's what they were-moving within the ring itself.
That's the last real clue I've seen, he told himself, the best lead I've got. He sighed.
He wrapped the cloak around his shoulders and headed aft, to where Dranigor sat on the helm. "Take us down," he ordered quietly, "closer to the ring."
*****
Standing on the afterdeck, Teldin imagined he could feel the heat of the fire ring on his face, just a baseless fancy, he knew. While the ring burned hot enough to ignite the squid ship like dry kindling, both Dranigor and Djan had reassured him that this heat didn't radiate far through the vacuum of wildspace. If necessary, they'd told him, he could bring the Boundless within a league of the ring without undue risk, maybe even closer.
Let's hope it won't be necessary, he thought. Even from this distance-a league or so from the ring, a distance inconsequential in comparison to the width of the band of fire- the violence of the Garrash system was impressive, terrifying. The huge planet itself, more than an hour's full-speed flight away, filled the sky. He could see the writhing, tortured surface of the atmosphere, churning and bubbling with heat, sometimes sending out great flames and prominences that soared many thousands of leagues above the surface before falling back. The comparison with the magical bolts rising from the surface of Nex were unavoidable, and every time another prominence started to climb into the heavens, fear squeezed his heart. Would this one fall back like the others? Or would it continue out into space, questing blindly for the ship, to send it down in fiery destruction?
He could see the great, dark circle-the weather pattern or whatever it was-near the distant limb of the planet. From this range, he could see that it wasn't black, as he'd thought initially. It was just a darker red than the rest of the world, appearing black only in comparison to the brighter fires around it. The circle-which Djan had taken to calling the Great Storm-was actually a great cone, the half-elf had explained to him, easily large enough to swallow tens of thousands of worlds the size of Krynn, extending far down into the heart of the world. The Great Storm was much colder than the rest of the flaming atmosphere, so much colder that Djan had guessed a spelljammer might be able to descend some distance into it before bursting into flames.
The ring itself was a spectacle in its own right. From a distance it had seemed perfectly flat, but now Teldin could see that its surface churned, too, as though currents of unimaginable speed and ferocity were flowing through its liquid fire. Its light was largely yellow, but sometimes rivers or bubbles of flame burned at the surface in different colors- red, emerald green, even sometimes lightning blue. The result was an impression of barely contained violence.
The Spelljammer sailed through that? Teldin found himself wondering. And what about the other shapes-ships or whatever they were-he'd seen cruising within the ring? It boggled the imagination.
He turned away from the view, stared out into the star-specked blackness. Where are you? he asked mentally. Where?
"Ship ahoy!" Harriana's voice echoed down from the repaired crow's nest.
Her words jolted Teldin like an electric shock. The Spelljammer! "Where?" he yelled,
"Low off the stern, starboard," the halfling called. "In the fire ring."
Teldin sprinted to the aft rail on the starboard side and pivoted the ballista aside to give himself more room. He leaned over the rail, looking aft and down, past the broad spanker sail.
Yes, there it was, a darker shape moving within the liquid fire of the ring. Was it the Spelljammer?
No, the configuration was all wrong. No manta shape, this, but a broad-based triangle with an extended, sharp apex. As he stared in shock and amazement, the apex emerged from the ring, liquid fire dripping off it. Metal, it looked like, finest steel polished to a mirror finish.
The rest of the-the thing-emerged into the vacuum, and he could see it clearly for the first time, a cylindrical body or hull, maybe a hundred feet long, maybe a little more, sprouting broad, knife-edged wings that spanned at least one hundred and fifty feet. The tips of the triangular wings bore sharp, forward-pointing spines or spears dozens of feet long. The whole thing seemed to be made of the same mirror-polished steel as the apex.
A ship made completely out of steel? Capable of surviving-and keeping its crew alive-in the depths of the fire ring?
Teldin sensed a presence next to him-Djan. "What in all the hells is it?" he whispered.
The half-elf shook his head. His face was pale, his eyes wide with wonder, or perhaps fear. "I don't know," he answered slowly, "I've never seen, never heard of, anything like that before. I can't even guess what race could build a ship like that."
The broad-winged metal ship moved slowly, cruising parallel to the rippled surface of the ring. Although he couldn't see any portholes-and there definitely couldn't be any open decks!-Teldin imagined he could feel the vessel's crew scrutinizing the squid ship. Then, smoothly, the metal ship's bow lifted, pointing directly toward the Boundless, and it began to accelerate.
"Battle stations!" Djan screamed. "Man all weapons!"
Feet pounded the decks as the crew hurried to obey. Teldin moved farther forward, getting out of the way of the gunners who began to prepare the twin ballistae.
The first mate turned to Teldin. "Captain… ?"
"Bring us around," the Cloakmaster answered after a moment's thought. "Bring the bow toward it."
Djan paused, then nodded and relayed the order through the speaking tube to the helmsman. Teldin could understand the first mate's hesitation. Normally, aligning the bow with an approaching vessel would allow the squid ship's main weapon-its forward catapult-to come to bear, but it would limit the ship's maneuverability if it needed to escape. The half-elf had realized, however, that the Cloakmaster's unusual control over the Boundless-through the ultimate helm-would compensate for that disadvantage.
"And get Beth-Abz up on deck," Teldin added, "just in case."
The bearing to the knife-edged metal ship began to change as the squid ship's bow came around. As Teldin watched, the strange vessel maneuvered, too-much smoother than he'd seen any other ship change course-to keep its own bow pointing directly at the Boundless. It continued its acceleration for a few seconds, then settled down on a fast-though not incontrovertibly aggressive-approach course.