Far beneath the inhabited citadel that stretched across the back of the Spelljammer, the being once known as Romar, who was once a captain of the great ship many years ago, sat upon his bleached throne of bones. In a globe of sight floating above the floor the Fool watched the neogi community being attacked by the beholders and their vicious allies. He watched as the neogi were chased into their tower like the sadistic cowards he knew they were.
He gestured with a skeletal hand. The globe's view shifted, and he watched as the Cloakmaster shook an enchanted human in the Tower of Thought, and the guard erupted in black flame.
"Coh." The Fool hated the sound of that disgusting neogi name.
He should not have been surprised, but he had had no idea that Coh could possibly have been that cunning. "He has his own agenda," the Fool spoke to himself. "And he has nowhere else to run but to sanctuary." He laughed. "Here."
His laughter echoed off the walls. "But I have my own sweet agenda," he said, "and it does not call for a further alliance with a trained neogi. The woman will be mine, whether he knows it or not, and Coh…"He giggled madly, mocking the neogi master. "And mine will neogi master be. Coh meat will be."
The Fool rose from his throne, laughed, and kicked out at an undead rat, laid flat on its back. The corpse bounced off the wall. The Fool was still weak from the fledgling's psionic attack, but she would not be given a second chance to defeat him at his own work.
Oh, no.
"Gaeadrelle Goldring, the kender… oh, she will die, too. Oh, yes… a glorious, painful death, one especially suited for hurting me- me! — the one true captain…"
The Fool glowered angrily and screamed to himself.
"She will return… if only to help her precious Cloakmaster… and I will be ready to taste her fear…"He pondered a moment and grinned. "Perhaps my… servants would enjoy the taste of her soft, raw flesh… her cold terror…"
He decided. "The kender will be dealt with. But first, the neogi.
"Then, death for all… as I take the Spelljammer to its ultimate destiny… inside the fiery depths of the Broken Sphere."
Even in his humiliation, the Fool laughed and laughed and laughed.
The Fool knew that Death, ultimately, was a cosmic comedian. And who better to be court jester to Death than the Fool?
Chapter Eighteen
"One shall come under the auspices of shadow. One shall come to deliver the darkness. One shall come whom all have wronged. One shall come without purpose. One shall find purpose. One shall be the Redeemer. All are One."
"Ships ahoy!"
The shout from the roof echoed down through the Tower of Thought, and Teldin thought he could hear the cry repeated loudly from the other nearby towers of the Human Collective.
He stepped out of the tower's weapons room and started up the stone stairs to the roof. Outside he found CassaRoc and Chaladar staring up into the sky. CassaRoc raised a cylindrical tube to one eye and stared through it. He squinted against the bright light of the flow. "I don't know," he said to the paladin. "Never seen their like before."
Chaladar held out his hand. "Let me see."
CassaRoc handed him the tube, rimmed in brass. Chaladar aimed and peered through it for a long time. "Vaguely Shou design, I think. The wings, or fins, are like those of dragons. I'm not sure, though. They're some of the largest vessels I've ever seen."
Teldin came up behind them. "The spyglass. Is it gnomish work?"
CassaRoc turned, surprised. "We didn't hear you come up." He nodded. "Yep. Bought it off a gnome a few years back, around Evermeet. The only thing a gnome has ever designed that has a practical use, I'd say. Well worth the silver I paid."
Teldin took the glass and hefted it. He had used one before, in another sphere. This one seemed more streamlined and advanced, a tube carved of wood, about a foot long, with glass disks affixed to both ends by rings of brass. He aimed at a distant tower and looked once, marveling at the device's seemingly magical ability to bring far objects into clear focus; then he aimed it toward the speck in the phlogiston where the two leaders had been looking.
In seconds, he spotted them. CassaRoc pointed out five other areas in the flow, where only distant specks could be seen against the swirling chaos. Teldin whistled.
In all, nineteen ships were closing on the Spelljammer. Six were deadly deathspiders and a mindspider-probably planning to rendezvous with B'Laath'a, Teldin surmised-and, far in the distance, were two incredibly huge vessels that Teldin could not identify, ships that resembled giant, finned centipedes. As they sailed, the ships' segmented hulls twisted as though worming their way through the flow. Beyond them, Teldin picked out three hammerships, an elven man-o-war, a squid ship, two nautiloids, a galleon, and three wasps.
"The deathspiders," he said. "I could be wrong, but I have a hunch that the neogi will try to take advantage of B'Laath'a, the neogi mage who assaulted Cwelanas. They'll be sure to join the neogi in their fight against us, and they'll probably try to kill me again as well." Chaladar nodded. "Vicious, evil beings." CassaRoc said, "Be sure to expect other assassination attempts, too."
"The other ships nearby," Teldin continued, "I've never seen before. They remind me of dragon ships with the colors, and the ornamentation, but much larger. And I'll tell you this.-they don't look friendly."
"They're still a few hours away. We still have time to get to the neogi and get Cwelanas back," CassaRoc said.
Teldin was silent.
Cwelanas. Yes, we will get her back.
They stared into the flow for a while, keeping track of the converging ships. Even at this great distance, they could tell that some ships were already battling among themselves. Ballistae were firing from the deathspiders, and missiles were sent hurtling into a deck of a hammership. Catapults aboard the hammership rained boulders upon the swifter deathspiders, but they turned away before they could take much damage.
Teldin looked down upon the Spelljammer with CassaRoc's gnomish spyglass. From the tower, he could see that the open market had closed, probably for fear of war, and that sporadic fighting among the races had already broken out across the ship. A better view could be had from the pinnacle of the Guild tower, Teldin knew.
"What does the watch atop the Guild tower report?" he asked.
Chaladar leaned back against the tower railing and removed his helmet. He ran his fingers through his long hair. "The fighting has increased at the neogi tower," he said. "The bastards seem to be rallying, perhaps because they know their allies are on the way. And look." Chaladar pointed down. "The neogi are starting skirmishes all over the ship. They're using their slaves and umber hulks to terrorize the humans."
The paladin replaced the helmet and looked at Teldin seriously. "We can't wait much longer. We'll have to strike soon, Cloakmaster, or we humans will be worn down. Just give me the order."
"The others will be here soon," Teldin said. He looked at Chaladar, standing tall in his gleaming armor, and CassaRoc, ready to throw his men into a good fight. He had been on the SpelljammerTor only a short time, and these men were ready to lay their lives down for him. He glanced away, at the fighting below. Somehow I have already become their leader, he thought.
And he felt, in his soul, that this was how it was supposed to be.
"Let's go down," Teldin said. They followed him to CassaRoc's common room, now clear of rat corpses, and they waited for the arrival of the allied leaders.
It had been almost three hours since the discovery that Cwelanas had been kidnapped by the neogi, and Teldin had used that time well.