A wistful expression crossed Queen Amlauril's face as she answered the sage. "If I had told such a tale when it occurred, who would have believed me? Wildspace travel was not a well-known thing in Evermeet some eight hundred years past. Even after I heard tales of the great ship, I could not be certain that was what I saw. The earliest memories of a child are so dreamlike that dream and reality are virtually indistinguishable." Her smile held great charm and self-mocking humor. "Until we received your message, Vallus Leafbower, I am not certain I believed myself."
"What did you see?" Teldin demanded, taking a step closer. In the corner of his eye he noted the warning look Vallus shot him and surmised that he had violated some protocol code. In his eagerness to learn of the Spelljammer from someone who had seen it with her own eyes, he didn't particularly care.
"Before we begin, perhaps you would take a seat?" the queen said graciously, gesturing toward the table placed directly in front of the throne. Teldin and Vallus took their places, and Amlauril began her tale.
"My family's ancestral lands lie on the northernmost shore of the island," she began, taking a leisurely elven pace. "As a child, I spent much time on the coast, sometimes walking the shore, sometimes sailing in the protected coves with my sisters. One night, when the moon was full, I slipped away alone, compelled by some childish impulse to catch sight of the merfolk. My nursemaid had recently told me tales, you see, of the marvelous dances the merfolk held on the water's surface on each full of the moon, and I was eager to see this wonder.
"I saw instead a giant ship, shaped like a manta ray, flying slowing through the sky and all but blocking out the moon. At that time, of course, I did not know of other worlds, nor did I dream that ships could sail among the stars. I remember looking from the ship above to the sea below. Seeing its reflection on the still waters of the cove seemed a complete reversal of all I had ever known or imagined. I was terrified and fascinated all at once."
A fleeting smile touched her lips. "Of course, I fled like a frightened ground squirrel, back to the safety of my own bed. At daybreak, I was not sure whether I had seen the ship or only dreamed it. Even in later years, I heard so many conflicting stories about the Spelljammer that it was not possible to know what I had seen.
"And now, Teldin Moore," she concluded, "it is time for your tale. Permit me first to present your audience."
One by one, the queen introduced the members of her court. Teldin bowed his head to each prince or princess in turn, trying to commit the unfamiliar elven names to memory.
When the introductions were completed, the queen asked Teldin to tell his story. He nodded and did as he was bid. Keeping in mind elven patience and the elves' delight in long and fantastic tales, he left out little of what had befallen him since the day he first had donned the cloak. Throughout his telling, the elves' rapt attention never wavered. As he spoke, Teldin noted with surprise that he was beginning to understand elven reactions and emotions. By and large, they were more subtle than those of humankind, as different as the slow, stylized dances he'd seen on the world of Chimni were from the boisterous frolic of a harvest dance on his homeworld. Less heavy-footed, he noted, pleased with his own analogy.
Their faces betrayed guarded outrage as Teldin told the story of the elven admiral Cirathorn and his attempt to seize the cloak for his own purposes. Finally, he described the battle with the illithids and his rescue by Vallus Leafbower.
"Vallus has offered to aid me in my search, with the understanding that once we find the Spelljammer, the ship will join the elven side in the war."
"War? What war?" asked an elderly sage in a querulous tone, his face puckered with dismay. It seemed to Teldin that the elf was distressed not so much by the prospect of war, but that such a thing could happen outside of his knowledge.
The perceptive Vallus stepped in to soothe the elven sage. "The war of which Teldin Moore speaks is a matter for other worlds. It rages far from your shores, Master Tseth."
The elven queen leaned back in her throne, her expression suddenly unreadable. Her gold-flecked gaze settled upon Teldin. "Where does your search take you next?"
"The Broken Sphere."
His answer apparently surprised them, for over a dozen pairs of elven eyebrows leaped upward in perfectly choreographed unison. The elven sages exchanged arch glances. "Might we ask why?" asked the elderly Tseth in a supercilious tone.
"A fal, a giant space sage known for its long life and great wisdom, told me I might find the answers at the Broken Sphere."
His response sent the elves into a chorus of laughter. The sound made Teldin think of fairy bells and delighted babies. "I take it you don't agree?" Teldin asked as soon as he thought he could be heard. He was as bewildered by their reaction as he was charmed by the music of their laughter.
"Along with wisdom and longevity, the fal are known for their cryptic responses," remarked the sage who had spoken before. The elf s smile struck Teldin as unbearably patronizing, and his patience slipped. He had come here for answers, not oblique ridicule.
"Perhaps that's a trait common to sages of all races, Master Tseth," Teldin shot back, meeting the ancient elf's eyes steadily. His response sent the elves into a renewed bout of merriment, an intimate, shared laugh that made Teldin feel as if he inadvertently had stumbled upon a favorite family joke. Far from insulted, the ancient sage actually seemed pleased.
"Well said!" congratulated a black-haired elven prince, wiping his streaming eyes. He beamed at Teldin and added, "You've met Master Tseth before, I take it?"
"That's enough, Asturian," Amlauril murmured in the manner of any mother curbing an adolescent son, but, when she turned to Teldin, her eyes still danced with laughter. "We do not disagree with your sage slug, Teldin Moore. The answers to the mystery that is the Spelljammer may well be found at the Broken Sphere."
"And the answers to every other question as well," added Prince Asturian, still grinning.
"I'm afraid I don't understand," faltered Teldin.
"Permit me?" asked Tseth. Amlauril nodded, and the aged elf began. "In simple terms, elven philosophy holds that the Broken Sphere is the primordial sphere, the mother of the universe, if you will. All other spheres, all life, for that matter, erupted from this single source in an explosion of unimaginable power. In time, new spheres formed and began their path outward upon the phlogiston. According to records gleaned from the Elders-an ancient people long since vanished-and from our own observations, it would appear that the spheres still move away from the source."
"Then couldn't you trace these paths back to the source, and locate the Broken Sphere that way?" Teldin asked, excited by the notion.
The sage shook his head. "Such a path cannot be traced. The movement is so minute as to be almost indiscernible, and the time involved is beyond fathoming." He paused, a look of deep contemplation etched into the lines of his face. "The universe is of unimaginable age. One ponders the ephemeral nature of elven life compared to such vastness." The distant look vanished when he met Teldin's eyes, to be replaced by chagrin.
Teldin bowed his head to acknowledge the elf s comment and to show that he had taken no offense. "Go on, please." He smiled ruefully. "As you say, life is short."
The elves' delighted smiles showed appreciation for Teldin's self-deprecating humor, and once again he was struck by the charm and impelling charisma of the moon elves. He could see why this family ruled.