Выбрать главу

Another sage spoke up, this one an elven woman of middle years. "Despite such evidence as we have gathered, we cannot know the nature of the Broken Sphere. It may be an actual place, but it may not. It is but one theory, albeit a favored one, of the origin of life. If this theory is correct, it would follow that all answers could be traced back to the Broken Sphere. In essence, your fal was correct in saying this."

. Teldin listened with growing dismay. Frustration as palpable as a fever flowed through him. If Cirathorn had known all this, why had the elf sent him to the fal?

Teldin slumped in his chair, defeated. "Then I'm back to where I started."

"Not necessarily," said Tseth softly. "You carry an object of great power. In some way that I do not understand, it is linked to your quest."

Hadn't the sage heard a word he'd said? wondered Teldin with exasperation. "The cloak and the ship are linked, yes," he responded as evenly as he could.

Tseth shook his head. He rose and came over to the table where Teldin sat. "No, I wasn't speaking of your cloak. You carry another magical object. The power comes and goes, but at the moment I feel it waxing."

The sage could be referring to only one thing. Teldin reached into the bag at his belt and drew out the medallion Gaye had given him. Immediately he was hit with a wall of emotion as overwhelming as a tidal wave. He gripped his forehead with the fingers of his free hand, struggling to ride out the mental storm. Occasionally a random thought or feeling became separate from the cacophony in his mind, and somehow he realized that he was being buffeted by the emotions of every person in the room. When he felt as if he could bear no more, Teldin became aware of a new sound, a voice of incredible power that drove back the mental assault. Slowly the storm receded. Teldin lowered his hands and tentatively opened his eyes. Tseth stood over him; the saving spell had come from the ancient elf.

The sage extended a wizened hand. "May I see the artifact?" he asked, and his voice once again held the reedy quaver of age.

Teldin nodded and handed the amulet to the sage.

Holding it in one palm, Tseth wove an intricate pattern in the air above it with the fingers of his other hand. Finally he shook his head and handed it back.

"Nothing," he said with a touch of surprise. "Whatever magic it once possessed has almost faded. Can you describe what happened to you just now?"

Teldin did the best he could to explain the sudden assault of emotion. On impulse, he also described the sudden flashes of insight that had started coming to him since he'd acquired the medallion, and the sage's face lit up.

"An instrument of true seeing," Tseth murmured. He looked at Teldin. "It seems to me that the two objects are related. Perhaps the magic of the cloak can augment the medallion's failing power."

Following Tseth's instructions, Teldin focused on the amulet, concentrating on the sigils engraved on its face and slowly moving into them, through them.

As if from a great distance, he heard gasps of surprise from the elves and he noticed that his cloak had taken on the glowing, red-gold hue of molten bronze. The elven council chamber blurred and faded before the bright light, and Teldin had the notion that reality itself was melting before the cloak's bright magic.

Then he was beyond the cloak, far from his own body, far from the elven kingdom. He saw the blackness of wildspace, sprinkled with unfamiliar groupings of stars. The sense of immediacy was incredible, as if he actually were seeing it through eyes that not only saw, but felt and measured.

Accepting the strange perception as reality, Teldin began to focus intently on the scene before him. The vast, majestic emptiness of wildspace was familiar, but it held dimensions that he had never been able to see before. In the silence was song, and the blackness had depth and texture.

Suddenly the dreamlike quality of his vision exploded into a frenzy of anger and flight. A dragon burst into sight, but such a dragon as Teldin had never imagined. Teldin's vision registered the dragon's opalescent black scales and enormous wings, and his more subtle, magically enhanced senses staggered under the impact of the creature's rage. The serpentlike dragon wheeled and flew away at tremendous speed. Lacking points of reference, Teldin had no idea how big the creature was. Its emotions struck him in a bright burst of power, leaving Teldin with the impression that he had spent a moment in the dragon's mind. The feeling stretched his own mind to the point of explosion. If a small world was sentient, if a star could feel rage, then that might approach the vast intelligence that flickered briefly in Teldin's expanded vision.

So this is how a dragon thinks, he thought dazedly. He might as well have said, So this is what it feels like to be struck by lightning.

The enormity of it shattered Teldin's vision and threw him back into the elven council chamber.

With only his own human senses to gather information, Teldin felt suddenly blinded and silenced. The elves plied him with questions, cautiously at first and then with growing excitement. He put the medallion down on the table and told them in as much detail as he could remember what he had seen and felt.

Vallus spoke with great wonder. "I have heard tales of this medallion, but I was not certain of its existence and had no idea it was in your possession. Its magic enables you to see what the Spelljammer has seen."

Teldin had no idea of what benefit that might be, and he let his expression say so.

"Don't you understand?" Vallus persisted. "If you can see what the ship sees, you can figure out where it is. The creature you described is a radiant dragon, a very rare being indeed. Perhaps there have been other, recent sightings of this creature. That would give us a general idea of the ship's location. Can you remember anything else that might be used as landmarks? Star formations? Planets? Anything?"

The elf s excitement was contagious. Teldin's hollowed eyes brightened. Determined to try again, he reached for the medallion. Tseth's withered hand captured Teldin's wrist before his fingers could close on the ancient disk.

"No. The use of magic takes a great deal of strength. You are not ready to try again. At any rate, the effort would be to little purpose," the sage admitted with obvious reluctance. "The elves of Evermeet have little knowledge of other spheres. We could not tell you what you saw." it seems to me that our best course would be to proceed to Lionheart," Vallus said thoughtfully. Understanding the risk he was taking in revealing such information, he turned to Teldin and explained, "Lionheart is the secret base of the Imperial Fleet. Elves from many worlds are stationed there. Surely with their combined resources we can find the answers you need."

Teldin instinctively recoiled from the plan. He was not ready to commit to the elven cause, and he feared that walking into their command center would take this choice out of his hands. With a surge of relief he remembered Hectate and the uncanny knowledge the half-elf had of star charts and navigation. He was sure Hectate could provide the needed answers, but he wasn't about to announce his decision to a room full of elves.

After a long, typically elven discussion, it was decided that nothing more could be accomplished. Queen Amlauril suggested that they break so that Teldin Moore could rest until time for the evening meal. The exhausted Teldin followed an elven aide out of the chamber, feeling as though he were wading through swamp water.

The elf showed Teldin to a guest chamber. His peripheral vision suggested that the room was sumptuously appointed, but his fading attention was focused solely on the bed. Preparing to flop into exhausted slumber, he pulled back the bright silk coverlet and recoiled in surprise. The bed, which had looked solid enough when draped, was a thin mattress that floated roughly three feet from the floor. A childhood image from his grandfather's stories popped unbidden into his mind, a tale of a magic mat that would bear the rider to magical destinations. For all he knew, he could wake up from his nap to find himself in Vallus's Myth Drannor.