Free The Radiant Dragon by Elaine Cunningham

judge of character, finding that when he trusted his instinct he seldom went wrong. But since the cloak had come into his hands, life had changed. Telling friend from foe had become difficult, and he had made some near-fatal mistakes. Teldin wasn’t sure he could trust his instincts anymore.
    Chirp interrupted Teldin’s thoughts with an excited squeal. Hugging himself in his excitement, the dracon began a heavy-footed little dance of glee. “There! Look over there!” he burbled, pointing toward a distant light. “That’s the Nightstalker, or I’m the Dark Spider’s next dinner.”
    Teldin squinted out into the darkness of wildspace. There was a light, all right, but something about it was wrong. From this distance, most ships had a faint, whitish glow and looked a bit like faint stars. This one was like no star he’d ever seen. It glowed with a dim but intense purple light. The strange sight drew the other crew members to the railing, and a worried muttering spread across the drakkar. Teldin reached for the brass tube that hung from his belt and raised it to one eye. Seen through the glass, the dracon ship appeared to be a giant, deep purple wasp. It looked very much like an elven battleship.
    “Man-o-war,” said Dagmar, confirming Teldin’s suspicions. The first mate had sprinted to the railing during Chirp’s impromptu dance, drawn by fear for her beloved ship. After curbing the dracon’s board-breaking glee, Dagmar stood at the rail by Teldin’s side, gazing out into the void. Worry deepened the lines around her eyes. “That’s the dracons’ ship?” she asked.
    “So they say,” Teldin replied, studying the ship with growing concern. He’d never heard of any race other than elves flying a man-o-war. Was this some sort of trap, or did dracons legitimately use such ships? Teldin lowered the glass and turned his attention to Chirp and Trivit. Their delight in the coming reunion with their clan was so genuine and childlike that Teldin’s suspicions ebbed. And if their far-traveling clan leader had answers to the riddle of the Broken Sphere, he’d be foolish not to take the opportunity to listen.
    Teldin turned to the first mate. “Prepare the longboat and get the dracons on board. I’ll be going with them, but we’ll need another helmsman. Get Klemner,” he directed, naming the minor priest who did double duty as Rozloom’s galley helper. Teldin could easily power the small boat himself, but he did not want to use the cloak’s spelljamming magic in front of the dracon clan.
    “Aye, Captain,” Dagmar said reflexively, but her eyes slid involuntarily to Teldin’s cloak. When he’d purchased the drakkar, Teldin had told Dagmar a little about the cloak and the various foes who sought it. Every member of his small crew knew that the voyage held great potential for danger, but Teldin felt he owed his first officer a little more.
    While the woman got the dracons aboard the longboat, Teldin shrunk the cloak until it was no more than a silver necklace. Again, he didn’t intend to take unnecessary chances with the cloak.
    With Klemner at the helm and the dracons wielding the oars, Teldin was free to sit in the longboat’s bow and observe the man-o-war. He had heard that these ships were grown by the elves, carefully pruned and twisted into their final shape. He had to admit that the result was beautiful. As they drew near, Teldin noticed that the enormous wings – he guessed a wingspan of at least three hundred feet – were of some glittering, translucent substance that resembled crystal. The wings were webbed with ribs, as if they were giant purple leaves.
    As soon as the longboat entered the man-o-war’s atmosphere, Chirp took a small silver pipe from the pocket of his leather armor and began to blow busily on the thing. Teldin did not hear a sound, however, and seeing the human’s puzzled expression, Trivit leaned forward on his oars to explain.
    “It’s a signal pipe. One can’t be too