Feeling safe for the moment, Teldin dropped to his knees and bent over Estriss. The illithid was alive. Relief washed through Teldin, and the intense focus of battle began to slip away. His senses shifted and swam, shrinking and condensing into the focus of his normal time perception.
Dimly aware of a clicking sound coming toward him,
Teldin looked up. His eyes widened in purest horror. The insect creature loomed over him. Its armored body shimmered faintly in the dim light, and the lethal blades on its hands, arms, and head dripped blood. At close quarters, the monster was terrifying. Worse, it began to reach down toward Estriss. The creature had fought alongside the Valkyries crew, but for all Teldin knew it might have a taste for illithid flesh.
Teldin struggled to his feet and stood over the fallen body of his friend. As he crouched in a defensive position and raised his sword, he frantically tried to summon the cloak's battle magic. The clarity and focus would not come; it was gone beyond recall.
"It's all right, sir," said the creature in a soft, familiar voice.
Shock hit Teldin like a blow. His sword fell from his suddenly numb hand and clattered unheeded to the deck. "Hectate?" he whispered, not wanting to believe.
The insect monster inclined its head. To Teldin's numbed senses, the creature's acknowledgment seemed to hold a deep sadness. With a gentleness Teldin had always associated with Hectate Kir, the creature stooped and gathered Estriss in its enormous, armor-plated arms.
"Time to leave, sir," it said in Hectate's voice.
"Leave?" Teldin echoed numbly. The monster swiveled its head so that its main eyes looked out over the starboard rail. Teldin followed the gesture and recoiled in shock. Another ship, even stranger than the drakkar, had joined the battle.
A series of grappling hooks connected the dark man-o-war to an enormous, spacebound swan. Elven warriors slid down the lines from the swan ship, immediately engaging the illithid's slaves in fierce battle.
There be is! Get him. Get the cloak, demanded a dark, feminine voice. Teldin spun to see Netarza leading a group of elven warriors. An elf with skin like polished obsidian responded by throwing back his arm. One moment, purple light glinted off the steel in his hand, the next, Teldin staggered back from the force of the impact. Bright pain exploded in his left hip. He reached down and felt the hilt of the knife flush with his skin and the blade grating against bone.
Through the pain, Teldin dimly noted that the insect with Hectate's voice had deposited Estriss on the deck. It turned to meet the attack. The heavy armor that shielded its chest parted, and two plates folded back to reveal glowing red membranes that vibrated with power. A flash of bright energy burst from the creature's chest, blinding Teldin with its intensity as it hurtled like a shooting star toward the band of slaves. It hit the warriors with a burst of light and fire.
Heavy black smoke, fetid with the smell of death, roiled back toward Teldin and his strange companions. It surrounded them in a suffocating cloud, and Teldin sank to his knees beside Estriss, coughing and choking. As he struggled to hold on to his ebbing consciousness, Teldin was dimly aware that Hectate-the real Hectate Kir-was sprawled beside him, his elven face as pale as death. Teldin had little doubt that Hectate's fate soon would be his: the cloak's magic had drained his energy, and he was losing too much blood from the knife wound. Teldin could no longer feel the deck under his knees. He was floating, weightless, into a place of darkness and warmth….
"Teldin Moore."
Strong, slender arms caught him as he fell. A familiar voice shouted orders in Elvish. Teldin summoned every vestige of his remaining strength and willed his fading senses back into focus. With a mixture of relief and dismay, he pulled himself away and looked into the face of his elven rescuer.
Even in his weakened state, Teldin could not accept the possibility that this rescue was a coincidence.
The insignia of a ship's captain adorned the elf's Imperial Fleet uniform, and his slanted green eyes were hooded, as unreadable as ever. This time, however, Teldin had no doubt about what this elf wanted.
Vallus Leafbower had returned for the cloak.
Chapter Five
"I'm not dead yet," Teldin informed the elf with as much vehemence as he could muster. Anger coursed through his veins, deadening his pain and renewing his resolve. If the elves once again hoped to take the cloak off his dead body, they were in for one more disappointment. By Paladine, Teldin vowed as he struggled to his feet, he'd live just to spite the pointy-eared bastards.
Despite the surge of energy his anger lent him, the effort was too much for Teldin, and a fresh stab of agony tore through his wounded side. Gasping through gritted teeth, he fell back to his knees, pushing away the elf s steadying hands.
Vallus Leafbower grimaced and shook his silver-haired head. "Perhaps you're not yet dead, Teldin Moore, but you soon will be if your wounds are not tended." The elf looked up and raised on hand in a quick, imperious gesture. Five uniformed elves hurried to his side. "Get this man aboard the swan ship and take him to the healer," Vallus directed them.
Two of the elves started to do Vallus's bidding, but something in Teldin's eyes stopped them. "I'll see you in the Abyss first," he told Vallus coldly.
"That is a distinct possibility," the elf returned with equal warmth. "The man-o-war is burning, and I will not leave you behind. If you don't let us help you, we're all dead."
"But the battle-"
"Is over," Vallus concluded firmly.
Teldin hesitated, listening. The battle sounds had dwindled to a few scattered clangs, a few faint moans. Smoke billowed up from the stairwell, and a faint, ominous crackling came from beneath the deck. "Take me to the Valkyrie, then," Teldin said resignedly.
"The illithid's wizard slaves hit the drakkar with a barrage of spells." Vallus's flat tone and steady gaze made it clear that Teldin's ship was gone.
"And the crew?" Teldin demanded, not able to take it all in. Vallus turned to one of the other elves and raised his silver eyebrows in inquiry.
"A small longboat got away before the drakkar exploded. We took the survivors aboard the Trumpeter," the elf reported.
Dread filled Teldin. "Some of my crew boarded the man-o-war. Have any survived?"
"I'm sorry," Vallus said gently.
Teldin slumped, despairing. More deaths tallied on his slate, all due to the cloak. Whatever the Spelljammer might be, it couldn't be worth this.
The elf rose to his feet. "Come."
He had no choice but to go with the elves, Teldin realized. He nodded dully, numb to the core. "Take Estriss first. His wounds are worse than mine."
"Estriss?" Vallus echoed in disbelief. The elf squinted through the smoke at the crumpled form beside Teldin, then with a cry of recognition he dropped to his knees beside his former captain. Gently turning the unconscious illithid over, Vallus bent to peer into the empty white eyes. "Barely alive," he murmured distractedly. He looked up at the other elves, who had formed a tight, curious circle around him. "Take these two to the swan ship, now," he commanded.