Plate armor clattered against the wooden deck as the bionoids rolled and grappled, each trying to get the advantage. Finally one of the warriors lifted its head high, smashing its forehead into the other's face. The creatures' crystal eyes struck each other like flint and steel, and there was a bright spark and a sudden flare of red light. Then there was darkness, and both bionoids lay still.
In the aftermath of battle, elves and surviving bionoids eyed each other uncertainly, not sure what the strange outcome meant.
After a long, silent moment, one of the creatures stirred and rose unsteadily to its feet. There was an empty oval indentation on the other bionoid's forehead. Its crystal eye had shattered; the creature was dead. Everyone on deck held his breath as the onlookers waited to learn who had survived the challenge.
The dead bionoid quickly compressed back to elven form. A tall, rangy female elf lay on deck, her sweat-drenched black hair clinging to her head and her amber eyes open. Even in death those eyes held the wild, fierce expression of a hawk. Still in his monstrous form, Hectate stooped and closed Ronia's eyes with a gentle, taloned finger. He rose and faced the other four bionoids.
"Challenge was made and met. You will withdraw, as agreed."
The four bionoids inclined their heads in agreement, and one of them signaled the shrike ship by waving its arms at the shrike ship in an elaborate pattern. The bionoid ship circled, came to a hover, and threw down boarding ropes. One of the creatures gathered up the elven body of Ronia, and, without a word, the survivors of the once fearsome battle clan returned to their last ship. The shrike ship flew off, disappearing into the black vastness of wildspace.
*****
Grimnosh pounded the railing with a white-hided fist. "The bionoids have failed again! Thrice-damned elf-spawned garden pests, fit only as food for giant Zenuvian flytraps!"
The scro ranted for some time, while the hideous ice orc general looked on impassively and waited for the storm to pass.
"What plan now?" Ubiznik asked at length.
"We must have that cloak!"
"Cloak, scro want. Elf blood, orcs."
"Indeed." Grimnosh's colorless eyes narrowed. "Perhaps it's time for both of us to take what we want. Choose four of your best soldiers and report to the landing dock immediately. We're going to board the swan ship."
*****
Pearl came up onto the main deck just as Chirp and Trivit were dragging Hectate's limp bionoid form into the captain's cabin. "About time," she murmured with satisfaction. Turning to Vallus, she demanded to know what had just occurred.
"The bionoids have retreated," he said tersely.
"Good. An assortment of goblins is trouble enough. By the way, I'm supposed to tell someone that we're out of ballista bolts down in the cargo hold."
"Take some from the main deck," Vallus replied absently.
"Thanks, but I don't run errands." Pearl raised her voice and summoned Trivit, sending the dracon to resupply the lower level.
Elven crossbows twanged as the swan ship charged yet another orc scorpion ship, and the thud of the catapult sounded twice more from the stern.
"How long can he keep this up?" wondered Pearl, glancing up at the bridge with deep concern. "Sooner or later those scro out there are going to get mad, squash this sorry excuse for a ship like a ripe melon, and make off with the captain."
Vallus Leafbower turned to face the mysterious moon elf. "That would be convenient for you, wouldn't it. With Teldin Moore gone, you would have a clear path to the Spelljammer."
"Convenient? Ha!" Pearl said scornfully. "Teldin can have the captain's job, and welcome to it." She shot an arch glance at the elven wizard. "I'm sure you can understand that."
Vallus recoiled as if she'd struck him. "But how much does he know about the Spelljammer?" the wizard persisted. "Has he any idea of the dangers aboard the ship? Or that few who seek the ship are ever heard from again?"
Pearl's eyes mocked the elven wizard. "Not unless you've told him."
"You see what the elves are up against," Vallus said, a trifle defensively, pointing toward the ongoing battle with the orc fleet. "The Imperial Fleet faces destruction. We need the cloak."
"What do I care about that?" Pearl retorted. Her hand curved around her sapphire pendant in a gesture of deliberate menace. "I want Teldin Moore, end of story. If the Imperial Fleet interferes, I'll destroy it myself. That goes for anyone else who gets in my way. It's as good a hobby as any. Think about that, little wizard." She whirled and darted up the stairs to the bridge.
Teldin looked up briefly when Pearl burst into the room. "They're tightening the noose," he murmured in a distant, distracted voice. "They're starting to close on us, and we can't get them all."
"Can you break through? Outrun them?" she suggested.
"I doubt it. The swan ship's held together with string and spit," Teldin said ruefully. "Pieces of it fall off every time I make a run."
"Then it's time for us to leave," Pearl declared. "Turn die ship and its problems back to the elves, and come with me."
Her suggestion startled Teldin. "Leave? But how? On what?"
"Under your own power!" she said, and her voice sang with the exultant freedom of wildspace. "Think of it: Your cloak allows you to shapechange. What better form to assume than that of a radiant dragon? Ahh!" she broke off, her face glowing. "It would be good to fly again. Let's go!"
Teldin was too staggered by her suggestion to speak, and he just stared at Pearl's outstretched, entreating hands. Was such a thing possible? He had taken on other human faces and forms, had endured a brief interlude as a gnome, had fought in the body of an orc general, and had assumed the appearance of an Armistice bugbear, but a dragon?
Something hit the swan ship with an extended, rattling thump. The ship lurched, sending Pearl falling backward to land squarely on her backside. She leaped to her feet, eyes blazing. While she swore and rubbed at the offended portion of her inconvenient elven anatomy, Teldin swept his magically extended vision over the ship. One of the orc ships had loosed a catapult load of stones. Teldin could feel a crack along the lower part of the hull, slightly above the paddle line. They could fly and probably land, but they'd slowly sink once they did land. Still, it could be worse.
As if on cue, the attack began. A scorpion's jettison shot another load. Stones thudded against the swan ship like a summer hailstorm, and the cries of injured elves drifted into the bridge.
Still using his strange double vision, Teldin hovered over the ship. To his horror, he saw a small, triangular ship-one of the things Vallus had called "kobold arrows"-coming straight toward them. He brought the swan ship around, but then he noticed that the arrow had changed its course. The tiny vessel flew straight at the scorpion that had just attacked them. The two orc ships met in a ball of flame, and wave after wave of explosions rocked the burning remnants.
"Now there's an object lesson for you," Pearl said. "Someone on that battleship doesn't want this swan ship to be attacked, and they're letting the other orcs know it's not healthy to get carried away. They want something on this ship, Captain-probably that cloak of yours, though I never saw a scro who looked good in pink." Her facetious expression faded, and her face and voice became grim. "If you don't come with me now, the scro will get you. The elves can't stop them, and you know it. You've got to pick friends who'll be of some use, Captain, and that means me."