Forget him, she thought. He'll never be yours. You don't deserve him.
When she finally fell back to sleep, her pillows were dark with her tears.
Chapter Twelve
"… Why is it that most of us have never considered leaving? Do we not have the free will granted to us by the gods? Why are so many of us ignorant- or uninterested- in the Spelljammer's true nature? Most of us do not realize that the Spelljammer is a ship: it is believed by some to be a floating city, or a living beast upon which we live, or even a god. Even now, I am not sure that my perception of things is correct… "… This absence of curiosity among the populace is itself most curious…"
In the moist darkness of the homed tower, Drikka and Lord Trebek of the illithids walked silently down the tower stairs to the audience chamber on the main level. Drikka opened the door for the leader and Trebek made a grand, silent entrance, swirling his long black cape dramatically around him.
The walls of the horned tower were hung with long red draperies, highlighting ancient tapestries and sculptures that portrayed the history of the illithid community on board the Spelljammer. Light rods cast a pale glow from golden sconces set in the walls, creating deep shadows in the corners of the room and behind the aged tapestries of silk and golden thread.
It was in such a shadow that Estriss hid, safe from the suspicious eyes of his brethren. He knew well the hateful nature of illithids, and he knew well that Lord Trebek had been scornful of him from the start.
This address had been kept secret from Estriss; it had been only through a barely overheard conversation between two mind flayers that Estriss had learned of Trebek's proclamation, so he hid in an alcove behind a tapestry in the audience chamber and waited.
The great audience chamber was crowded with the Spelljammer's entire illithid community. Dressed in their traditional gowns of black or gray, the mind flayers turned as one upon Trebek's entrance, then bowed their heads as he took his seat upon the royal dais. Drikka bowed as well and stood with the other illithids to Trebek's right.
There is much to discuss, Trebek announced in the hissing thought-speech of the mind flayers, much that concerns the future of the illithids.
The mass of seventy illithids stood in silent respect for Lord Trebek. Although he was a relative newcomer to the Spelljammer, Trebek had wisely stayed out of clan politics and had enjoyed a neutral position among his people, garnering friends on all sides who had eventually recognized him as their leader.
Breakox is dead. He let that sink in for a moment as the mind flayers shifted uneasily. Breakox is dead, murdered by the beholders. Our plans to take control of the minotaurs must be abandoned, as they appear to be under beholder control.
Trebek rested his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepled his claws before him. We are not warriors, he thought to the mind flayers. We are illithids-we control. There is much we can do to wrest the Spelljammer from the hands of our enemies-and much we can do to foster war among the other races, while keeping ourselves well protected.
He stood and paced before the mind flayers. Estriss watched Trebek silently from his hiding place. Enemies, Trebek had said. Estriss knew how illithids thought: everyone was a potential enemy, especially if they were not of the mind flayers.
The Cloakmaster has come. Battles have been fought between the minotaurs and the beholders, between the elves and the goblins. As our enemies destroy themselves, we will be in the perfect position to swoop down upon the remaining forces and enslave them. The needs of the illithids are of paramount concern. When the Dark Times fall upon the ship, we will need more than our tasteless brain mold to survive. We will need the brains of our enemies.
The assembled mind flayers began to hiss in expectation. Trebek knew precisely what words to use, what promises to make, what strings to pull. Like any good politician, he knew to promise them everything, then deny it all later.
I have worked hard to keep our enemies on edge with each other. Our position now is highly… tentative. He stopped at the front of the dais and looked deliberately into their midst. Our ultimate enemies are the elves. They are perhaps the strongest community on board, and I believe that any battles in which we become involved should directly affect the downfall of the elves.
The mind flayers hissed agreement.
Our position is one of mental and sociological superiority. I will not allow our race to become sullied by the warlike emotions of the other races.
We must stay out of this war for the Spelljammer until it is clear that we can win. It is only by fostering enmity between the elves and the goblins that our enemies will be decimated to the point that we will become victorious. Let us antagonize the elves, and then attack, so that the Spelljammer will be ours!
The assemblage applauded its leader, and Trebek went on to detail his plans for insurrection among the races aboard the Spelljammer.
Alone among the illithids, hidden from the eyes of his evil brethren, Estriss watched and listened silently, holding counsel with himself. Only Estriss considered the Spelljammer an intrinsic force in the universe, as something more than an object of conquest.
Only he, of all the mind flayers, had a friend who was human.
With all the others of his own kind surrounding him, he felt completely, utterly alone.
Enemies, Trebek had said.
Estriss listened and watched and wondered who the enemies really were.
Chapter Thirteen
"… Racial warfare will be ignored and will lead to unity whenever a threat is made to the Spelljammer. Then the races will come together and fight as brothers to preserve their cherished home. I myself have seen the lords of the illithids and elves, pitched in glorious battle, drop their arms as the Spelljammer was attacked from the Rainbow Ocean and fight side by side…"
After speaking with Cwelanas in her quarters, Teldin went downstairs to watch CassaRoc and Chaladar, the paladin, put their warriors through sword practice and hand-to-hand combat. Then they went to the tower's armory and checked the condition of the weapons. A feeling of anxiety had come upon him suddenly, as soon as word had reached the tower of the meeting going on in the beholder ruins. The possible alliance of the beholders with the minotaurs, ogres, and hill giants meant only trouble for the humans under the flag of the Cloakmaster. "Nothing good can come of this," CassaRoc said. Chaladar grunted once, and his hand settled on the hilt of his sword. "They are preparing for war. All of them, the unhumans." CassaRoc smiled. "Ah, well. What does it matter? With the warriors of all the Human Collective, and our Unhuman allies, they will not stand a chance. Ahh, I like a good fight."
Teldin's chest suddenly grew tight and warm. He stopped in midstride.
"What's wrong?" Chaladar asked.
"This is wrong," Teldin said, clutching his chest. CassaRoc came up and looked him over. Chaladar said, "Are you well?"
"I have to do something," Teldin said, "get out. We're doing nothing here but talking. I need to- to roam. The adytum. I need to find the Spelljammer's adytum."
They went to the common room and sat at a table. "Perhaps its time you did some exploring," CassaRoc said. "A few of our warriors, with you in disguise
Teldin said abruptly, "It's in that direction." CassaRoc turned from the tap. Teldin was standing, pointing a finger at the tower wall.
"That's toward the stern," Chaladar said slowly. "How do you know?"