Teldin's eyes pleaded for understanding. "I can't just leave them here to die."
The dragon-in-elf's-clothing glared at him, and her elven eyes changed into compelling golden orbs slashed by vertical black pupils: dragon eyes.
One of Aelfred's stories flashed into Teldin's mind, a tale of dragons that could weave charm spells with their eyes. Indeed, Teldin could feel the warmth and power of the dragon's mind sweeping over his own, and the glow of his cloak dimmed a little as his hold on himself-and its magic-waned. Dimly he remembered landing on Armistice, when Pearl used her pendant helm to take over the spelljamming ship. He'd slept deeply and recalled few of the details of landfall. Had she charmed him then? And if so, would she always attempt to force his will?
No, Teldin vowed silently. He would not be owned, not by the elves and not by a dragon. Teldin gritted his teeth and struggled to throw off the dragon charm, to pull his gaze away from her compelling golden eyes.
An image forced its way into Teldin's mind, a memory of a childhood summer. He saw a much younger version of himself lying in the grass, looking up and marveling at the flight of the birds. The boy's timeless yearning for wings filled him, and he rose from his grassy bed, stretched his arms wide and prepared to soar up into the golden light.
Try as he might, Teldin could not break free of the vision. He summoned all the strength of his will and leaned into the waking dream. He recalled other boyhood pleasures-a fresh-picked apple, a swim in the creek, the scent of spring- and he visualized roots slipping from his small bare feet and tethering him to the land. The dream of flight faded.
Pearl tried again and again, projecting images into his mind of moments he'd treasured, people he had loved, all bathed in the warmth of golden light. One by one Teldin overcame them.
Gradually he came to realize that, under the power of a dragon charm, he could see into her mind as well. An overwhelming pride and immense vanity formed most of the mental landscape, but the dragon's image of him startled Teldin: Pearl saw him as more powerful than he dreamed possible. A mixture of awe and fear swept over him as he read Pearl's reluctant belief that he, Teldin Moore, potentially was the equal of a radiant dragon.
Equal. Partner. Suddenly Teldin knew how to break free from the dragon charm. Teldin concentrated on the pact Pearl had offered him, a pact that offered him a free choice. Next, he form a vivid mental picture of a forsworn dragon being driven from its lair in disgrace.
As abruptly as it began, the golden light vanished, and there was nothing stronger than exasperation in Pearl's gold and silver eyes. "Humans!" she grumbled. "I promise you a choice, and you have to start out with a bad one. Well, go figure."
"Thanks, partner," he said softly.
"Don't rub it in," Pearl groused. "If you're not going to get yourself out of this mess, I suppose I'll have to." She spun on her heel and stalked out of the bridge.
Teldin's magical vision followed her as she raced across the deck. She made her way to the railing, hauled herself over it, and leaped far out.
His breath caught in his throat as he watched her float out along the swan ship's gravity plane, and he willed himself to soar high above the ship so that he could follow her. When she had put a safe distance between herself and the ship, a familiar gray mist enveloped her elven body, then shot out in either direction, firming immediately into shimmering black scales. Teldin had seen the radiant dragon through the eyes of the medallion's magic, but the full glory of the being called Celestial Nightpearl was overwhelming, frightening in its majesty.
The dragon was enormous; long and serpentine, her body alone was at least five times the length of the swan ship, and her tapering tail added perhaps four hundred feet more. She spread her glittering, translucent wings in flight, and Teldin guessed that a pair of elven armadas easily could sail beneath their shadow. The dragon's flight was not hampered by limbs, and she moved through wildspace with a fluid, sinuous grace. Her head was long, triangular, and studded with the compelling gold eyes Teldin had glimpsed moments earlier. Around her neck was the golden pendant, now bearing a sapphire the size of a small spelljamming craft. More wondrous still were her pearly sales; although darker than wildspace, they caught and reflected the light of a thousand stars.
Celestial Nightpearl threw back her head and roared, then, like a coiled spring, she lunged at and under the nearest ship. It flew upward like a bobbing cork, buffeted by the creature's powerful gravity force. As she sped past, she flicked her tail and two orc flitters crumbled into wildspace flotsam.
The orcs resumed their attack, throwing everything they had at the new threat. Almost playfully, Pearl dodged their pitifully small weapons and continued smashing ships with her tail or upending them with her gravity field. It seemed to be little more than sport for the radiant dragon, and the orc fleet crumbled before her might.
So intent on the battle was he that Teldin did not notice the elven man-o-war approaching from beneath them. Firing on orc vessels as it came, the patrol ship drew a tired cheer from the swan ship's crew.
The dragon spat out the claw she'd just bitten off a scorpion ship, and she hurtled toward the man-o-war. As she blazed past, a casual flick of her tail shattered one of the ship's enormous crystalline wings. The elven ship began to spiral out of control. Not content with that, Pearl wheeled around and came in for a second pass. Her enormous jaws opened, and blue light shot toward the careening vessel. A fireball of enormous power struck the hull, and the ship exploded into bright orange flame.
Pearl swooped down low, circling the swan ship so that the massive bubble air surrounding her melded with the swan ship's atmosphere. Her golden eyes sought out Vallus Leafbower, who stood transfixed with horror at the ship's rail. The dragon's head reared back, and a tremendous roar rolled over the swan ship. In the fearsome sound was the faint music of an elven woman's mocking laughter.
Throughout the one-sided battle, the scro command ship hung back. Teldin kept a close watch on it, however, and, with a sense of foreboding, he saw a sleek scorpion rise from the dinotherium's massive deck and begin a wide circle toward the swan ship. At the same time he noted a movement at the base of the ship's hull, and one of the small, wedge-shaped ships lashed there hurtled toward the radiant dragon like a giant arrowhead. It stuck her and exploded in a spray of metal shards and flying scales.
Pearl threw back her head and roared, and Teldin could feel both her agony and her rage. Bent on revenge, the dragon sped toward the dinotherium, leaving a trail of blood droplets floating behind her. With a sinuous, winding motion she wrapped herself around the ship. She strained and compressed as she squeezed the ship, crushing it in her coils as if she were a giant anaconda.
The dinotherium's metal hull protested, shrieked, and finally gave way. A huge crack ran up the dinotherium from keel to upper deck. Still Pearl squeezed, and plates of metal began to pop off. Finally even the ship's metal frame buckled, and the ship began to break up into pieces. The stunned elves stood gaping at the unusual attack.
With his expanded vision, Teldin was the first to see the strange gray creature emerge from the crack in the cargo hold and climb up the ruined ship as nimbly as a spider. Perhaps twenty feet tall, the creature was dwarfed by the powerful radiant dragon, but it was no less fearsome. It appeared to be an overgrown version of the tertiary Witchlight Marauders. Suddenly Teldin feared for Pearl.