beholders who fight among themselves in endless wars, that it is willful and intelligent, that it is the toy of an evil god, that to even see it will cause death or blindness or a sickness of the spirit. It is said to be the abode of the most monstrous beings in the cosmos.
“We trust in the information within our own archives most, which were painfully built from guesses and luck, supplemented by visits to One Six Nine, who has spent a thousand years studying the lore of wildspace. Of late, we have not troubled One Six Nine with questions about the Spelljammer, as these queries are slow to produce an answer and we have had more pressing business to attend to than the chasing of a rogue ship. One of our own sages spent eight years waiting for a minor detail on its structure and received only a sentence. Knowledge we value, that is true, but there are fewer dreamers among us than there once were. Only a dreamer would chase the Spelljammer.” The elf leaned forward. His dark gaze pierced Teldin’s own. “Are you a dreamer, Teldin Moore?”
The word “no” hovered on Teldin’s tongue. I don’t believe in dreams, he thought, not since the war. We crushed evil and left poverty in our wake. Men with dreams, those were the Knights of Solamnia, who left all their dead behind to be buried by us, who followed their bloody footprints. They killed to save the world, but they left only ruin behind them. Hard work in peacetime was not a part of their dreams.
Ever since I was given the cloak, I’ve had no goals left but to find out what it is and what I should do with it. All of my options have been cut away. I have no dreams left except to follow the cloak’s path.
Strangely, for a moment he thought of Cwelanas, the beautiful elven seafarer he had met just before he left Krynn, and of the copper-haired Julia, waiting for him on the Probe. Did he ever imagine now that one or the other might be a good traveling companion on the way to the Spelljammer ? Instantly his jaw tightened, and he looked down. As long as he had the cloak, he was more deadly a partner than any lover deserved.
The one time he had trusted enough to take a lover, it had been Rianna Wyvernsbane, who had betrayed him to the neogi and tried to kill him, only to die horribly herself. Love was a nightmare now, not a dream. He dared not think about it.
Teldin roused himself. The admiral stared at him with cool patience.
“I will find the Spelljammer, whatever it takes,” Teldin said.
“My question is unanswered, then, but no matter,” Cirathorn said. “If you would go hunting, you would do well to learn the lore of your prey. Will you seek One Six Nine’s advice before you set out?”
“It doesn’t sound like I have much choice.”
“You have every choice there is, but few wise ones. We cannot give you the current pathway through the phlogiston to the sphere we call Herdspace, but on a small worldlet in this sphere, only three days from here, you can find the answer. The gnomes have a colony on that planet, which they call Iron-piece, and they were the last to have visited One Six Nine, only a year ago. I do not know the result of their query, or even what it was, but I doubt that what they would ask of a falma-daraatha would interest us. We will give you whatever supplies you need for your journey.”
Cirathorn looked to Teldin’s right. “Indeed,” he continued, finding the subject he was looking for, “we might even be able to find a traveling companion for you, if you have room. Have you met Dyffedionizer Artifactos Lammermaker?”
Even before he turned to look, Teldin knew who was being talked about. Only a gnome would ever stand for a name like that. He immediately saw that he was right. The pudgy gnome stared in shock at the admiral and other elves, his hands still clutching his pen and paper.
“What did you want? What are you saying?” asked the confused gnome in his nasal voice. “Where am I going?”
“Dyffedionizer Artifactos