The Cloakmaster Cycle - The Radiant Dragon Part 18

"They're ready now," the bionoid responded warily. Her voice revealed her suspicion with both the question and the promotion. "They have been ready for some time."

Grimnosh's colorless eyes narrowed. "I beg your pardon?"

"Some twenty s.h.i.+ps are ready, complete with functioning helms. Many more are near completion."

The scro nodded slowly. "Yes, of course. Do you know the gate into the Armistice atmosphere? You do. Very well, Captain, you will take one shrike s.h.i.+p to the ice world and prepare the ore recruits for an immediate mission. The rest of you, prepare yourselves for battle. All of you, meet in my study at four bells to receive further a.s.signments and tactics. Go now."

The scro spun and stalked out of the bionoids' quarters, silently berating himself as he went.

He should have known better than to let K'tide out of his sight even for a moment. He should have squashed the insectare like the bug he was.

Grimnosh had no doubt about K'tide's goal; the insectare was obsessed with the destruction of Lionheart. It had not escaped the scro's attention that the klicklikak-the insectare's hideous s.h.i.+p-was no longer aboard the dinotherium. K'tide apparently had taken a crack crew of bionoids with him, and where else would they go but Armistice? The klicklikak had been stripped for cargo, and K'tide and his crew easily could load a secondary marauder and its attendant priest in the hold. K'tide would then chase down the swan s.h.i.+p, use the bionoid warriors to overtake the elven crew, and use the swan s.h.i.+p and the elflike bionoids to smuggle the marauder into the elven base. Not a bad plan, Grimnosh admitted grudgingly, providing one was willing to go one step further.

So far Teldin Moore had escaped every attempt to relieve him of his cloak. The human and his elven allies could not stand against the force that he, Grimnosh, would bring against them. In battle the Elfsbane alone was more than a match for a swan s.h.i.+p. K'tide might have culled the bionoid force somewhat, but a dozen of the monsters still remained under Grimnosh's banner as well as three shrike s.h.i.+ps, and soon a fleet of ores would complete his personal navy. To ensure victory, Grimnosh would direct the battle himself.

Once the Cloak of the First Pilot was in his possession, his first act would be to take revenge on the presumptuous K'tide. Grimnosh personally would peel the insectare's exoskeleton away plate by plate, then have the creature slowly flayed to death with its own antennae. The scro's fierce scowl relaxed under the soothing prospect of pleasures to come.Once he had dealt with K'tide, he would borrow the traitor's scheme to use the bionoids, the captured swan s.h.i.+p, and the Witchlight Marauder to bring down Lionheart. Grimnosh was a practical scro, and he saw no reason why the insectare's plan should die when the spy master did.

Chapter Sixteen.

When the first morning rays of sunlight touched the swan s.h.i.+p, they fell upon a frenzy of activity. Only two days remained until the three moons of Armistice would come fully into alignment. According to Vallus, this event occurred every twenty-eight local days, and at such times the planet was racked with earthquakes, volcanic activity, and violent high tides. Getting off Armistice as soon as possible absorbed every member of the crew.

To Teldin's way of thinking, things couldn't get much worse. Turbulent seas already were buffeting the swan s.h.i.+p, and rumblings could be heard not only from the sh.o.r.e, but deep in the seabed beneath them. Blizzards were almost a daily occurrence, many of them punctuated with bone-shaking thunder and lightning.

During one such storm, a random flash of lightning caught Teldin's attention. As he watched, a long, insistent streak blazed above the snow-covered ground, touching down between the sh.o.r.eline and the mountains. Teldin stood at the upper deck's railing for a long time, squinting in the direction of the vanished light.

Something about the flash stirred his memory. As he thought it over, Teldin recognized the true nature of the light. When last he'd seen the night sky lit by such a streak, a spelljamming vessel had crashed on his farm and had begun the nightmare he now lived. Time slipped away, and for a moment Teldin was a bewildered farmer again, helplessly cradling a dying reigar woman in his arms.

Not again, Teldin vowed silently. It was not likely that he could do anything for the crew of the vessel, but he had to at least try. With a surge of resolve, Teldin strode off in search of his improbable ally: Raven Stormwalker.

He found the moon elf down on the main deck, in what remained of the storage area. She directed Chirp and Trivit's efforts to patch the gaping hole in the roof where the ballista had crashed through. A group of elves disa.s.sembled the ballista according to Om's terse instructions, preparing to take the weapon above to the upper deck to be remounted.

Although Teldin was gratified to see the work progressing so well, the bustle was not conducive to his mission. Teldin walked up to the moon elf and quietly spoke a few words to her.

She nodded, and he slipped away to the cargo hold. Within moments Raven joined him, wearing the warmest clothes she could find aboard s.h.i.+p.

"What's on your mind, Captain?"

Fleetingly, Teldin wondered at her use Of the t.i.tle. Raven always called him that, with subtle but deliberate emphasis. Was she baiting him, or perhaps mocking his pretensions toward commanding the Spelljammer? He added it to the bottom of the list of questions he planned to ask her-if and when they got back from Rakhar.

"Can you shapechange?" he asked bluntly. When Raven quirked an inquiring eyebrow, he hastened to explain the ability his cloak gave him to change his appearance at will. Raven listened, a strange smile curving her lips and speculation glinting in her gold and silver eyes.

"That presents some interesting possibilities," she said at last, more to herself than to Teldin.

"Why do you ask?"

Teldin quickly told her about the fallen s.h.i.+p and his decision to investigate and, if possible, help survivors. "If we took the form of one of the native races, we'd be less likely to run into trouble," he concluded.

"Unless someone speaks to you in Orcish," she pointed out.

Teldin shrugged away her objection and gathered up a handful of his cloak. "It translates."

"Hmmm. Handy garment to have, Captain." She pulled the sapphire pendant from its hiding place beneath her jerkin. "This trinket has a different set of tricks, but shapechanging happens to be one of my hobbies," she said in a wry tone. "As for changing into goblin form, that might best be done a safe distance from the swan s.h.i.+p. If it's all the same to you, I'm in no mood to be fireballed by a bunch of elven wizards."

Teldin conceded her point with an uncertain smile, and they worked together to drag a sparelongboat from the cargo hold. A ballista was mounted at the bow of the lower level, and they lowered the longboat through the opening the weapon port provided. The longboat was painted a silvery white, making it deliberately conspicuous in wilds.p.a.ce but providing effective camouflage in the icy water. The boat was almost invisible in the churning waters, which tossed the small craft about as effortlessly as if it were a fisherman's float.

For more than an hour, the pair struggled with the oars. Merely staying afloat was an accomplishment, but at the end of the hour they still were no more than an arrow's shot from the swan s.h.i.+p.

"Time to change," Teldin gasped out.

Raven nodded, brus.h.i.+ng a frozen lock of hair out of her face and securing her oar in the gunwale. "I've seen the creatures. I'll go first."

She closed her eyes. Immediately her outline blurred and her elven form was replaced by a nebulous gray haze. As Teldin watched, fascinated, the gray mist s.h.i.+fted and expanded, like a boat comes into focus as it emerges from a fog bank, so the details of her new features began to sharpen. The transformation was over in a matter of seconds, and Teldin recoiled instinctively from what Raven had become.

Beside him was a huge, vaguely humanoid creature covered with a dingy, whitish fur. Seated, the creature towered over Teldin, and its ma.s.sive torso and thick arms gave mute testimony to its strength. Its shoulders were as wide as a broadsword, and its short, squat legs ended in the clawed feet of a bear. Indeed, much about the creature was bearlike. Its prominent snout had the distinctive pug shape of a bear, and its mouth was full of sharp, curved fangs. Its eyes were a pale, sickly green with blood-red pupils, and the tips of short, wedge-shaped ears protruded from the thatch of white hair that crowned its sloped forehead.

"Should I be glad I don't have a mirror?" the creature asked in Raven's wry voice. Teldin nodded dumbly, and her tusks glinted as she smiled at the dumbfounded man. "Your turn, and hurry. I'm heavier than you now, and the boat's listing my way something awful. I don't fancy trying to swim in this fur coat."

Teldin stared intently at Raven, taking in the details of her new face and form. He closed his eyes and conjured a mental image of himself, replacing it in his mind with a replica of the creature beside him. He knew the transformation was complete when he heard long, ripping sounds, followed by a woman's laugh. Belatedly he remembered his clothing. He cracked one eye open and looked down. His fine, elf-crafted garments were not equal to the transformation and they hung about his ma.s.sive new body in ribbons.

Raven shook her s.h.a.ggy white head. "Don't think ahead much, do you?" she said with a chuckle. "Might as well toss those rags, Captain, though you'll raise some eyebrows when you change back to human form."

Silently agreeing, Teldin ripped off the remains of his clothing and dropped them into the sea.

The thick fur insulated him from the cold better than his own clothing had, and he didn't miss it.

His only garment was the cloak, which, as always, adjusted its size to accommodate his form.

"You might do something about that cloak," Raven suggested, pointing to the regal purple that flowed over his furred shoulders. "You'll be the best dressed yeti-bugbear on Armistice. People will talk."

Teldin grinned through his tusks and shrank the cloak down to its necklace size. The silver chain easily hid in his thick fur, and he caught a glimpse of the gold and blue pendant buried in Raven's fur. Their transformation completed, the pair resumed their rowing. Having the strength of the Armistice-bred creatures sped their progress, and soon they pulled the craft up on a pebble-strewn beach.

They followed a barely discernible wisp of smoke and tramped up the first of several small foothills. As they walked, the winds picked up and yet another blizzard began. Even in his yeti form, Teldin found the climate punis.h.i.+ng, and, to conserve their energy, he and Raven trudged on without speaking. As they crested the fifth hill, the wreck came into sight. Teldin fought back the memory of that first crashed spelljammer, and he led the way as they half-ran, half-slid down the snowy hill toward the downed s.h.i.+p as fast as their stubby legs allowed.

The s.h.i.+p, or what was left of it, had been cracked wide open by the force of impact and now was little more than a smoking hull. Four thin, twisted protrusions rose from the wreckage, and to Teldin's eye the s.h.i.+p looked like a dead thing, lying on its back with it legs sticking up. Something about the s.h.i.+p seemed oddly familiar..."The klicklikak," Teldin breathed. His words formed a cloud, instantly condensing into icy droplets that clung to his facial fur. Raven squinted at the s.h.i.+p, then nodded confirmation. A quick investigation showed that no bodies remained in the s.h.i.+p; all apparently had been thrown out when the s.h.i.+p had split in two. Snow-covered mounds were scattered around the hull, however.

Not sure what compelled him, Teldin insisted on checking each one. Together he and Raven dug out four dead elves, their bodies mangled and already stiffening from the cold.

"No insectare. That's odd," Raven mused. "Only an insectare can use that helm." She pointed to the smoking, hooded throne that was fitted with two curling, long pipes. "No antennae, no power. It won't do the orcs much good. That's one comfort."

Teldin rubbed his forehead with a half-frozen paw. Suddenly he wondered why he'd come here, what he'd ever thought he could accomplish. He didn't see how anything could have survived the crash, and he said so. Raven wasn't as sure.

"Ever see an insectare without his robe and cowl?"

"No. Am I missing something?" Teldin said wearily.

His humor was unintentional, but Raven's appreciative smirk registered even through her yeti form. "They're tough, hard to kill."

Too cold and exhausted to talk, Teldin just shrugged and gestured back toward the sh.o.r.e.

Raven nodded, and they plodded back in the direction from which they'd come. The snowfall had dwindled to a few swirling flakes, but the driving wind already had obliterated their footsteps. A few yards from the klicklikak they slogged past yet another mound. Teldin saw no reason to investigate. He'd seen enough dead elves for one day. He averted his eyes from the snowy grave, but not before he'd caught a glimpse of something that chilled him to the soul.

Frozen and stubborn, the tip of a familiar reddish brown cowlick protruded from the snow.

Teldin was on his knees in a heartbeat, pawing aside the snow.

"Why?" Raven asked. Her question chased a puff of steam.

"I know this one," he mumbled.

Raven cast her bugbear eyes toward the moons in a gesture of exasperation. "Captain, these frozen elves of yours give new definition to the word stiff. You can't help this one."

As she spoke, Teldin uncovered the pallid form of Hectate Kir. Maybe not, Teldin acknowledged silently, but I'm not going to leave him here either.

Raven moved in for a better look. The half-elf was almost as white as his snowy blanket, but no injuries were visible. She knelt beside Teldin and lay her furred ear directly on Hectate's chest.

After a moment she sat back on her heels. "What do you know. He must have changed to his bionoid form before impact. Bounced once or twice, I'd guess, but that's about it."

"He's alive?" Teldin demanded.

"Didn't I just say that?"

Teldin didn't bother to answer. He hoisted the half-elf over his fur-covered shoulders, and the two yeti-bugbears hurried back to the waiting longboat.

Moving with painful slowness, the insectare hauled himself into the small craft. Despite the loss of the klicklikak and his bionoid crew, K'tide was more determined than ever to go through with his plan. He'd get to Lionheart if he had to ride there on the back of a void scawer.

Battered by the crash and stiff from the cold, the insectare crawled deep into the hull of the longboat and looked for something with which to conceal himself. There were a couple of flotation devices-rings of extremely lightweight wood-and a torn piece of sheeting. With numb fingers K'tide shook out the canvas and covered himself with it, curling up as small as possible. Even if he were discovered, he figured his chances of survival were better with the swan s.h.i.+p's elves than with the goblins of Armistice. The bionoids always changed into their monster forms before facing the Rakharian orcs, but he had no such ability and his elflike face probably would earn him a slow and brutal death at the hands of the Armistice orcs.

If he could just get aboard the swan s.h.i.+p! His informant there was not among his most reliable employees, but with even a little help he'd find a way to ferret out the information he needed. Then he could send a message to the surviving bionoids of Clan Kir, have them rescue him, and take over the swan s.h.i.+p. The destruction of Lionheart could proceed as planned, and then he would don the Cloak of the First Pilot.*****

Aboard the patrol s.h.i.+p Windwalker, elven warriors stood ready for battle. The man-o-war's captain left preparations to his first mate, preferring to spend his time on the bridge in fascinated observation of the rogue swan s.h.i.+p.

The swan-head tower that once had housed the bridge had been replaced by a raised deck covered by a hastily constructed shed. The stern had been patched and heavily reinforced.

Mounted there was a ma.s.sive tail catapult that obviously was of gnomish design. By all appearances, the s.h.i.+p was s.p.a.ceworthy. They had to take to flight soon, the captain mused, or risk destruction during the coming lunar alignment.

They had to take flight soon, he repeated silently. The Windwalker's battle wizards were near exhaustion from the effort of keeping the rogue s.h.i.+p in view, day after day. Even as the captain acknowledged that problem, the battle wizard on duty swayed in her chair, and her hands began to slide unheeded down the sides of the scrying globe. The captain squeezed her shoulder, pulling her back into her fading trance.

"Stay with it," he admonished softly. "The swan s.h.i.+p will take off soon. We must get it as soon as it clears the atmosphere s.h.i.+eld."

Before the elven woman could respond, a second alarm sounded. Her eyes snapped open, and the image of the swan s.h.i.+p vanished from the magical panel. Not having much choice, the captain directed her to investigate the new threat.

Now fully alert, she bent to the task. In response to her magical inquiry, the panel darkened to the star-sprinkled blackness of wilds.p.a.ce. To one side Vesta glowed like a pale amethyst, its purple orb framed by the larger green light of the primary moon behind it.

The alignment, thought the captain, noting the thin rim of amber light visible to the left of Vesta. The three moons would align this night, and, by all reports, Armistice would resemble a frozen version of the Plane of Chaos. For a moment he almost pitied the orcs and goblins that lived there.

A moving pinp.r.i.c.k of light caught his eye, ending his charitable thought abruptly. There was a second light, then a third. Before the horrified gaze of the officers, the lights multiplied, and soon a small fleet of spelljammers-patchwork vessels that defied cla.s.sification-flew crazily into view. A dozen or more of the vessels sped through the atmospheric boundary and into the freedom of wilds.p.a.ce.

"The orcs are escaping," the battle wizard said in a dazed, distant voice. "How could this happen?"

"It hasn't happened yet." The captain spun to face the helmsman. "New course. We pursue those vessels."

After a hurried consultation with the navigator to determine the location of the goblin s.h.i.+ps, the captain set a course toward them. Fortunately, the ragtag fleet was not far from the much faster Windwalker, and soon the scene outside the bridge window mirrored that on the crystal panel.

The man-o-war closed rapidly. Following the captain's orders, the weapons crew fired a catapult at the nearest s.h.i.+p. The shot scored a direct hit, and the fragile s.h.i.+p exploded into flame and scattering fragments.

In their jubilation, the elves did not notice the approach of the second fleet. Or perhaps the fleet was not there to see, for with the suddenness of magic three shrike s.h.i.+ps appeared, circling directly above the man-o-war.

One of the elven wizards got off a fireball spell, and it hurtled toward the lead shrike s.h.i.+p in a stream of blue flame. An answering flash of magic burst from their birdlike attacker, and the two spells collided over the man-o-war with an explosion that shook the s.h.i.+p and sent its crew tumbling to the decks.

Alarms sounded throughout the man-o-war, and soon the main deck was crowded with elven warriors. The shrike s.h.i.+ps continued to circle, and their path was so close to the Windwalker that the elves dared not risk using their larger weapons. With apparent chivalry, the shrike s.h.i.+ps held off their attack until the man-o-war's battle stations were fully crewed. The lead vessel slowed, coming to hover directly over the deck of the elven vessel.

As the puzzled elves craned their necks back, waiting and watching, the cargo doors on the shrike s.h.i.+p's hold opened. Strange gray warriors, a dozen or so, leaped from the shrike s.h.i.+p andhit the deck with a metallic clatter.

Silence shrouded the elven s.h.i.+p as the invaders rose to their feet. Roughly four feet tall, the creatures were bipedal, and their muscular bodies were covered with hide the color of a garden slug. Their huge, fanged maws worked hungrily, and at the end of their two long arms were "hands" comprising two gleaminging swords that clanked and flashed with the dexterity of lethal fingers.

The creatures advanced in a pack, hurling themselves at the elves in a frenzy of slas.h.i.+ng blades. Like berserker warriors, the gray horrors tore through the elven crew, feeding as they went. Their feasting did not seem to slow their attack, and the tertiary Witchlight Marauders killed and ate their way through the elven vessel with grisly efficiency.

Chapter Seventeen.

The return trip to the swan s.h.i.+p was swift and perilous. Still in their yeti forms, Teldin and Raven struggled with the oars for only a few minutes before Raven decided to shapechange into one of the giant, eellike fish that abounded in the icy waters, so that she could tow the longboat back. As soon as she made that announcement, she rose and dove into the water, disappearing into the turbulent sea. A dubious Teldin tossed a tow line overboard, and the longboat took off with a jerk that sent him tumbling to the floor. With one paw Teldin desperately clung to the side of the boat; with the other he held on to the unconscious half-elf. The longboat sliced wildly through the choppy waters, leaving behind it a small wake. Again and again the boat thudded painfully down after hitting a particularly large wave. By the time they were within sight of the Trumpeter, Teldin felt battered and exhausted just from the effort of staying in the boat, and he feared the effect the wild ride might have had on Hectate.

The longboat's momentum slowed abruptly, and Raven's eel head poked out of the water, along with a foot or so of scaly neck. Teldin watched, dumbfounded, as the upper part of the creature changed into the familiar head and shoulders of the elven woman. The part of Raven still submerged in the icy water retained its fish form. As she dragged herself up and into the longboat, the metamorphosis worked its way down her body. Finally she tumbled over the side and into the longboat, fully clothed and completely dry. The elf met his astonished gaze with a tolerant, one-sided smile, and Teldin realized that he was gaping like a beached carp. His fanged jaws closed with an audible click.

Fangs. There was that problem again, Teldin thought ruefully. In his current, goblinoid form he hardly could expect a kinsman's welcome from the elven crew, but if he reclaimed his human form, he'd board the Trumpeter clad in nothing but gooseflesh and a cloak. With a sigh of resignation, Teldin willed the cloak to grow out to its full length. He drew the dark folds over his broad, furred shoulders, hoping that the elves would discern his true ident.i.ty from the magical cloak.

"Change your face back," Raven suggested. "Just your face. Keep the fur so you don't freeze, but scale the body down to something approaching your normal build."

Teldin quickly followed her advice. As he felt the goblinoid features melting away, he felt only relief. Using the cloak's power to change his appearance no longer bothered him; he'd come to regard the magic cloak as a tool and a weapon, and refusing to use it when required made no more sense than leaving his sword sheathed during battle.

As they rowed the last few yards to the swan s.h.i.+p, Teldin saw a light in the ballista portal. To his surprise, Rozloom was in the hold, holding a lantern aloft and peering anxiously outward. A broad grin wreathed the aperusa's face when he caught sight of the longboat, and, as soon as Raven had secured the ropes, the gypsy winched the craft up and into the hold.

"Captain!" he boomed. He grasped Teldin's furry hand and pumped it vigorously, but his eyes were only for Raven. "I am so pleased that you are not dead."

Teldin nodded his thanks and tugged his hand free. He stooped to lift the half-elf from the longboat. "Rozloom, can you take Hectate to the healer? I'll be along as soon as I change."