The wooden stairs behind him creaked in protest as the dracons lumbered up onto the deck. Both were in full battle finery: Trivit wore his practical chain mail and wielded the enormous broadsword, and Chirp sported the purple-hued leather armor and carried his ornate two-headed axe as if it were a fashion accessory. Having seen the pair in battle, Teldin was not fooled by Chirp's frivolous appearance. The dracon brothers had proven themselves excellent fighters, but suddenly Teldin thought of a better use for their talents.
"I want you two to go below and guard Raven Stormwalker's quarters. Whatever happens, don't let anyone or anything get near her." Can't have her goaded into changing form during the battle, he added silently.
The dracons exchanged worried glances. "But she sent us up to guard you," Trivit blurted out.
Chirp hissed and rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Oh, marvelous. 'Act natural,' she said. 'Be discreet,' she said. Aren't you the very soul of discretion?" he said nastily.
"Well, I'm a bit unnerved by the dilemma in which we find ourselves. Moral dilemmas do strange things to one," Trivit replied thoughtfully. "I've always wanted to experience just such a thing-for the intellectual exercise, mind you-but now I've thoroughly repented of my wish. Moral dilemmas are damnable nuisances."
"Below," Teldin ordered firmly.
The dracons responded instantly to his tone, saluting and clumping down the protesting stairs toward the moon elf s quarters. Teldin glanced toward the starboard railing, where Vallus had gathered the ship's battle wizards. Once Teldin had thought that six wizards was a frivolous use of crew space, but at the moment he was glad to have them.
The klicklikak had drawn close enough that details were clearly visible, and it had slowed almost to a hover. It was a relatively large ship, about one hundred feet long, and had an odd, oblong shape. Two windows shaped like bulging eyes dominated the front of the vessel, and the long streamers that had trailed along behind while the ship was in rapid motion now stuck straight up before it. The ship was covered with intersecting plate armor, and two pairs of short metal rods protruded from the bottom. Landing gear, Teldin supposed, though something about them suggested the feelers that hung down on either side of a locust's mouth.
That's it, he realized with a sharp feeling of distaste. The klicklikak was shaped to look like the head of an enormous grasshopper. The disembodied head seemed to possess an eery sentience, and Teldin had the uncanny sensation that the buglike eyes were watching and taunting. The insectare ship halted just out of ballista range, as if it discerned the elves' intent.
A strange, scraping sound distracted Teldin, and he cast a sideways glance toward the source. He immediately turned and gave Hectate Kir his full attention. The half-elf labored up the stairs to the deck, half carrying and half dragging an enormous, two-headed halberd. Like the halberd Hectate had lost in the battle with the mind flayers, the weapon had blades easily two feet across and a staff fashioned from an eight-foot length of stout oak. This weapon, however, boasted a bewildering overlay of bolts and levers that marked it as a gnomish design. Om's work again, Teldin supposed. The gods only know what "improvements" the gnome had made. 'Whatever the case, Teldin could have no doubt about Hectate's intent.
"Don't you think you should sit this battle out?" Teldin asked him pointedly. The racket of Hectate's approach had drawn the attention of the elves on deck, and all were eyeing the half-elf and his enormous weapon with astonishment and suspicion. It was not an auspicious moment to debut as a bionoid.
"If possible, sir, I will," the half-elf replied, "but I've fought insectare before. My experience may prove useful."
"You have?" Vallus asked, coming over to stand by Teldin.
"A swarm of the creatures destroyed my home and family when I was little more than a boy," Hectate said quietly. "I know how they fight, and how they attack. I'll do whatever I can to help."
Teldin gripped the half-elfs shoulder, accepting his offer with a mixture of gratitude and foreboding. If Hectate was willing to reveal his bionoid nature before a swan ship full of elves, the risk presented by the insectare must be serious indeed. "What do you think they are up to?" he asked the half-elf.
Hectate squinted at the monstrous insect head. "That's not a battleship. The ballistae ports that should be around the base have been closed up. It looks as though it's been stripped down, either for crew or cargo."
"So?" Vallus prompted.
"I'd say the ship's a diversion," Hectate said. "A klicklikak is rare enough to get attention and keep it. Insectare only fight if they have to. What they're likely to do is to-"
His last words were lost in a piercing whistle. Teldin ducked reflexively, then shot a glance in the direction of the approaching sound and saw…
Nothing.
Their invisible adversary whistled in with a rising shriek. With horror Teldin recalled the banshees of his grandfather's tales-ghostly creatures with a keening cry. He'd seen strange things in wildspace, but so far all of them had been alive. As Teldin formed the thought, a current of air swept over them and he grabbed for the stair railing to keep his balance. Suddenly the banshee had passed, and its voice abruptly dropped in pitch to a thrumming roar. It approached and shrieked past again, and then a third time. Each cycle came in closer and lower. Just as Teldin thought he might scream aloud, a small, birdlike ship appeared from nothing but sound and air.
"A cloaking device," Vallus said tersely. "One of ours, on a shrike ship!"
Hectate tensed as the shrike ship approached again, his brown eyes narrowing as he stared fixedly at the ship. Suddenly he grabbed Teldin's arm and, with surprising strength, shoved him toward the steps. "Get below, sir," he shouted.
Teldin didn't answer, staring upward in disbelief as the small craft veered sharply from its path, making a suicidal lunge directly for the swan ship's long, curved neck. Twin bolts of light, magic balls of incredible power, burst from the shrike ship's forecastle and hurtled forward. The balls of force hit the bridge tower with an explosion of magical power and splintered wood. Teldin watched helplessly as the severed top half of the tower plummeted toward the deck, shattering boards and pinning several members of the elven crew. The shrike ship dove straight through the opening it had made and continued on its frenzied, circling path.
"They got the bridge," Vallus said in disbelief.
"And the helm," Teldin noted grimly. The ship was essentially what it appeared to be: a beheaded swan. The crew would be every bit as dead if he didn't act quickly. Teldin doubted there would be time to get up the secondary helm before the battle began.
In response to the crisis, his cloak began to glow, its pale sunrise pink signaling its spelljamming magic. Teldin felt his awareness growing, spreading to every part of the wounded ship. He could see the elves hurrying to rescue their fellows, Deelia Snowsong bending over a wounded elf as her tiny, pale hands forced a dislocated shoulder back into place. He saw Rozloom taking refuge under a stout table in the galley. Suddenly he could feel the ship itself, as if wood and iron were no more than a continuation of his own bone and sinew. Soon he would be the ship, and his untended body would be exposed and vulnerable on the deck, despite the bionoid protector that now loomed over him.
. "Vallus, you've got to take command. I'm going to take the helm," Teldin said in a faint, faraway voice, and he gathered up a handful of the luminous, pale fabric. "This helm."
The elf shot a glance at Teldin, and his eyes widened at the sight of the glowing cloak. A mixture of comprehension and wonder suffused the wizard's face, and he gave Teldin a quick nod. As Teldin turned to leave, he couldn't resist adding, "Watch yourself, Vallus. Stay close to Hectate, and you'll be safe."