Djan folded his arms. "Agreed, my friend, but we're still going to have to deal with the war when we try to leave the tower. Where are we going to go?"
Teldin thought back and visualized his route in his head. The sigil on his chest seemed to spark, and words and images came to him unbidden.
"The adytum is located within the Spelljammer's tail." He grimaced in pain as the sign on his chest burned. "I must somehow get to the Elven High Command, and go from there-perhaps through the Old Elvish Academy-then into the ship's memory, then through the Dark Tower."
"Memory? What are you talking about?" Djan asked.
Teldin concentrated, and images came to him of a spiraled hall of statues, of row upon row of miniature vessels arranged throughout the rooms. The burning in his chest became cooler, under some control.
Teldin sighed and relaxed. The more he acknowledged the Spelljammer's call, the less pain he felt inside. "I meant the Armory," Teldin said.
CassaRoc laughed. "Dream on, Cloakmaster. The Armory and the Dark Tower? The shivaks won't let you get into one of them, let alone both. I suggest you think of something else."
"What else can I do?" Teldin appealed. "It's calling me. I'm not sure where I have to go, but I still have to try."
Djan nodded. Na'Shee was already securing her weapons. CassaRoc shook his head. "All right, all right. We go out and cut through the war as quickly as possible. We make it to the Elven High Command. Then what?"
Djan said, "The treaty with the elves. They should help us get through the tower. Surely they must know of passages connecting at least the elven towers together."
"We can go across the battlement, for what that's worth," CassaRoc said, "and cross above the academy. We can go straight into the Armory there."
"The Armory will be well protected," Na'Shee said. "Those shivaks are hard to kill."
"Perhaps the elves will loan us a few warriors when we get there. I think we should leave our people here, to help out the allies," Teldin said. "A small band would work better inside the towers anyway."
CassaRoc nodded. "Just ourselves, then?"
"Just ourselves," Teldin said, "and whoever the elves can spare."
"And what of Cwelanas?" Na'Shee inquired suddenly. She adjusted her crossbow, a sword, a dagger, and a heavy, double-headed flail that hung from her belt. The weapon's pointed, cast-iron spheres depended from heavy chains, attached to a thick club.
Teldin looked away. "The call is upon me. The Spelljammer is giving me no choice."
They ran down the steps of the library toward the goblin quarters. At the corner, they saw a small amount of fighting going on toward the bow, but most of the battles were restricted to the central and aft portions of the Spelljammer, directly in their path. There the fighting was fiercer than they had imagined. Without hesitation, the group dove into the fray, their shields raised and their swords unsheathed. Within mere seconds, Teldin was attacked by one of ShiCaga's towering ogres, and together Teldin and CassaRoc felled the Unhuman, hacking at its ribs and legs. CassaRoc delivered the death blow through the ogre's heart.
At one point, an ogre wizard leaped toward them from the shadows of the minotaur tower. A spell played like dancing light around his hands, and he pointed them toward the Cloakmaster. But Estriss, the mind flayer, shoved Teldin aside and thrust out toward the mage with the power of his mind. The wizard reeled in dim comprehension as the world went black and he crumpled to the combatants' feet under the unimaginable weight of Estriss's mind blast.
He is big. He will survive, Estriss said to no one in particular.
"Too bad," CassaRoc said.
Na'Shee took the lead and plowed through the fighting, screaming a war cry with every swing of her blade. By the time the warriors passed the ruins of the beholders and the blasted neogi tower, their blades were wet with the blood of their enemies, and their hearts were cold with the fear that their comrades inside the tower were dead.
At the Elven High Command, the guards recognized Teldin as the Cloakmaster, but raised their swords in hatred as CassaRoc shoved Estriss toward the entrance. The leader of the guard, a tall elf bearing a thick white moustache, approached the mind flayer and said haughtily, "This thing cannot enter! We are at war with its kind!"
The doors opened, and Lothian Stardawn strode out to greet the warriors. The captain of the guard turned to him. "Lord Stardawn-"
"Colonel Suchbench, this is a valuable ally of ours," Stardawn said. "He is illithid, yes, but he is not a servant of Tre-bek. He is of the alliance, and he is a friend of the Cloakmaster."
The colonel brushed back his wide moustache and considered the illithid. "I don't like it, my lord, not at all, but you're in charge here. Pass, mind flayer," he said. He leaned closer and whispered, "but I'll see you dead if harm comes to any elf."
The warriors were led to an expansive entrance chamber. The walls were hung with ornate draperies and decorated with pale, ancient statuary that reflected the history and art of the elves.
"Cloakmaster," Lothian Stardawn said, stopping in front of Teldin. "What can the Empire of the Elves do for you?"
"Stardawn," Teldin said, "I am being summoned by the ship-" he pulled open the top of his shirt "-and I can no longer resist. The time is now."
Stardawn's eyes widened at the sight of the glowing pattern in the Cloakmaster's chest. For an instant, he considered that this situation might be more complex than he had thought, that perhaps this human truly was destined to be the heir to the Spelljammer's helm. Then he dismissed the idea as unbecoming for an elf of his stature.
The Spelljammer will soon belong to the elves, to me, he mused.
"What can we do for you?" Stardawn asked.
"I have discerned the location of the ship's adytum," Teldin said. "The answers to my quest will be found there. I need your help in getting there."
Stardawn's eyes narrowed. "And where is this adytum?"
Teldin pointed with his sword. "It's hidden within the ship's tail. To get there, we need passage into the Armory, and from there into the Dark Tower. We can do this by crossing the battlement over to the Armory."
"You'll never get inside," Stardawn said. "Many of us have tried. No one is ever killed, but the guardian shivaks beat our warriors senseless, then throw them back out. You cannot defeat the shivaks. They are like…"he searched for the words "… like beings of stone."
"That's why we need your help," Teldin said. "If you could spare some of your fighters to accompany us, perhaps we could make it past the shivaks and gain entrance to the Dark Tower."
Stardawn considered this. "Let me take this up with the commanders," he said. "I shall return shortly. Until then… Guard!" he cried. "Bring our guests refreshment and whatever else they desire." He turned to Teldin. "Cloakmaster, please make yourself at home."
Stardawn disappeared behind a huge tapestry hung against the far wall. There he entered a small antechamber and sat at an ancient desk decorated with silver and gold.
He sat quietly and waited, staring blankly at the top of the desk. Time was short, he knew, if the Cloakmaster was this close to his goal. The Armory would be impassable without the elves' help, and Teldin would never achieve the captaincy. The shivaks were too strong and too numerous. Had he not tried to enter the Armory twice himself?
No, the Cloakmaster could not proceed.
Stardawn wasted time for several minutes, deciding what he should tell them, then strode purposefully into the audience chamber, where Teldin and his group waited. He stopped as Teldin rose from his chair.
"I'm sorry, Cloakmaster," Stardawn said with all due reverence. "The high command has decided that the elven empire shall not assist you."
"But what of our treaty?" CassaRoc inquired angrily. "You promised your help."
"And the command shall help you, as it is spelled out in our agreement. The battles you anticipate are against the shivaks, and have nothing to do with protecting the elves. As such, the high command refuses to aid you. I am truly sorry, Cloakmaster."