"The Broken Sphere" - читать интересную книгу автора (Findley Nigel)

Chapter Six

"Falx," Djan said.

He, Teldin, and Julia sat in the Cloakmaster's cabin. The half-elfs wounded arm was swathed in bandages, supported by a sling. The ship's healers had done a little for it, but the first mate had insisted that they concentrate their attentions on the several crew members who were more sorely wounded.

"So where-or what-is Falx?"

Teldin glanced over at Julia. From the drawn, pinched look to her face, she knew all too well. "It's a planet of illithids," he told Djan simply. "They've tried once before- maybe more than once-to get the cloak."

Djan's eyes widened slightly. "Mind flayers, too?" he asked. Then he smiled faintly. "You certainly cast your net wide when it comes to finding enemies."

"Apparently," Teldin said dryly.

"So, what now?" the first mate queried.

"On to Nex," the Cloakmaster replied. "There's not much else to do, is there?"

Djan accepted that without comment.

Julia still looked troubled. "How did they know?" she asked. "How did they know we'd be coming? And how did Berglund know as much as he did about us?"

Good question, Teldin thought. It was one he'd been chewing on a lot during the day since they'd left the surviving pirates packed aboard their damaged gig. He shrugged. "Spies on the docks, I'd guess." His lips tightened. "Maybe even spies on board." He paused. "You know, now that I think of it, weren't the 'accidents' with the boom and the catapult a little coincidental? Djan," he said, turning to his first mate, "maybe you should look into that."

The half-elf looked back with a mirthless smile. "The crew's repaired the gaff boom," Djan said, "and they're working on the catapult. I had a chance to examine the damage before they began."

Teldin felt his skin grow cold, as if a chill wind had blown through the cabin. Even though he'd expected it, he didn't have to like having his suspicions confirmed. "Sabotage?" he asked quietly.

Djan didn't even bother replying, and he didn't have to. His expression was answer enough.

Wonderful, the Cloakmaster thought. "You know what that means, then?"

"Of course I do, Teldin," Djan said, his voice as quiet as the Cloakmaster's. "We have a saboteur on board, maybe more than one. I personally checked the rigging and the weapons before we set sail. Everything was fine then."

"One of the hadozee?" Julia asked plaintively.

Djan shook his head. "I meant, 'before we set sail from Starfall,' after the hadozee had gone ashore. The saboteur's still aboard."

Teldin was silent for a moment, digesting this news. Then, "Have you told anyone else about this?" he asked.

The half-elf shook his head again.

"Don't," Teldin said firmly. "We don't want to tip off the saboteurs that we're on to them." He gave a grim smile. "And I don't even want to think about the effect this would have on morale."

"So what do we do?" Julia asked, her voice quiet.

"What can we do?" the Cloakmaster asked bleakly. "We'll watch the crew as closely as we can…" He paused, the enormity of the situation only now dawning on him. "We'll watch them. But there are only three of us-four if we include Beth-Abz-and there are twenty of them. The saboteur could wreck just about anything on board, and we'd only spot him if we were extremely lucky. Still," he sighed, "it's the only thing we can do at the moment." He ground his teeth with-frustration. There had to be something else they could do-something active instead of reactive-but he could think of nothing.

Julia turned to Djan. "Any ideas who it might be?" she asked.

The first mate shook his head firmly. "None," he said flatly. "I don't know any of them well enough to even guess." He shrugged. "They all have good experience, they all came well recommended, they all seem trustworthy. But, offered enough money-and I assume a planet full of illithids can offer a lot of money-even the most trustworthy person might succumb to temptation."

The Cloakmaster looked at his two officers, his two closest friends. He could see anxiety written plainly in the lines of their faces, but there was something else there as well as they looked back at him. He thought it was trust, mixed with hope. They trust me to do something about this, he realized grimly. I'm the captain; I'm the gods-damned Cloak-master. It's my responsibility. I've got to do something… but what'

He stretched a painful kink out of his neck. I'll think of something, he told himself. "Well," he said aloud, "we'll do what we can on this issue." He turned to Djan with a wry smile. "Have you got any good news for me?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." Djan's face brightened a little. "Blossom tells me we've entered a phlogiston river. A fast river, one that doesn't appear on our charts… but does appear on yours." He smiled. "Maybe Nex isn't a myth after all."

The voyage continued with no further incidents-a pleasant surprise, Teldin told himself; we've had all too many incidents recently. As captain, it had been his unpleasant duty to officiate at the funeral services for the four slain members of the Boundless's crew. He'd known he'd have to say a few words before their canvas-wrapped bodies were put overboard-'consigned to space"-but at the time the words just hadn't come. Staring at the bodies-Allyn, Vernel, Manicombe and little Merrienne-his eyes had filled with tears, and his throat had tightened so much that he'd felt as if he was choking. All he'd been able to manage was a croaked, "Good-bye. And thank you." To the crew, that had seemed to be enough-a fitting tribute from a captain who so obviously cared for those who served with him. The burial crew had taken over, and the bodies had slid over the rail. For a few minutes he'd watched the pathetic bundles drift out along the squid ship's gravity plane. More deaths added to the tally, he'd told himself. But then Julia had appeared at his side to lead him away, down below to his cabin.

Julia had been there for him during the hours and days after the funeral. Never had she pressed her presence on him, but when he'd wanted someone to talk to-or someone just to silently be with him-she'd been there. The intense, confusing emotions he'd felt for her when they'd both been aboard the Probe hadn't returned. In their place he felt a growing kinship, a calm acceptance of each other's strengths and weaknesses, of needs and desires. It was friendship, but a different kind of friendship than he'd experienced before, more intense, yet also somehow more subtle. The two had been lovers aboard the Probe, and both seemed to accept that they'd be lovers again. But neither felt there was any need for haste in consummating matters.

While the captain had been coming to terms with the changes in his emotional landscape, the crew had been busy. Under the close scrutiny of Djan Alantri, they'd gone over the whole ship-supposedly checking for hidden damage the Boundless might have taken from the recent engagement, but actually looking for more signs of sabotage.

They'd found nothing, the half-elf had reported. While they'd been at it, they'd reinforced the mountings for both booms-mainmast and mizzen-since Djan had recognized that that was a weak point in the squid ship's design. They'd also patched and reinforced the bow where the pirate's catapult shot had struck. In what Teldin had considered a meaningless exercise, they'd even repainted the scores and scratches left on the ram from when it had pierced the battle dolphin's hull. Now those areas gleamed a bright blood red, a strong counterpoint to the dull, space-faded hue of the rest of the ship.

The Boundless was seventeen days out from the Heart-space sphere. A new crystal sphere loomed ahead of the squid ship, right where Teldin's copied chart had said it would be. Nex is within it, the Cloakmaster told himself. It bas to be. The ancient book had been right about everything else. And if Nex were there, were the Juna present also? He'd know soon enough.

Standing on the afterdeck, Teldin looked forward along the hull, along the slender ram, toward the crystal sphere that hung in the phlogiston like a huge pearl. In the Flow it was nearly impossible to judge the scale of anything, or its distance, with the naked eye alone. Even so, he could feel that he was close.

He looked away from the sphere as Djan joined him on the sterncastle. "Six hours from the sphere," the half-elf said with a smile, "maybe a little less. That's what the navigator says." He hesitated, and Teldin could see doubt in his friend's expression. "She also says it's very small," he went on slowly. "Unusually small. Maybe too small, I don't know. Based on our distance and its apparent size, the sphere can't be more than a single day's sail from one side to the other."

Teldin nodded slowly. "Unusual," he admitted.

Djan smiled wryly. "Very unusual," he emphasized. "If Nex is the outer planet of the system, that makes it only six hours' sail away from the sun. If it's not the outer planet…" He shrugged.

The Cloakmaster understood his point. If it's not the outer planet, Nex is even less than six hours from its primary. In contrast, Krynn was twenty-four hours' sail from the sun. Did that mean Nex would be a fire-scorched cinder? Or was its sun abnormally small, or very cold? "Well,'' he told Djan, "we'll know soon enough."

The half-elf nodded. "That we will."

*****

Unusually small or not, the crystal sphere still loomed huge before the Boundless as the ship approached. From this distance, the curvature of the mother-of-pearl outer surface was invisible, and Teldin could almost believe the squid ship was suspended, bow down, over an infinite flat plain.

Below him, within the sterncastle, Blossom was on the helm, while Dranigor readied himself to open the portal. Djan stood in his customary position by the speaking tube that communicated with the helm compartment. "Ready to open the portal," the first mate announced. Teldin simply nodded, hardly listening as the half-elf relayed the command to Dranigor. This could be it, he told himself, the end of my quest. Maybe 'the creators'-the mysterious figures the dying reigar had spoken of at the outset of all this-were on the other side of this crystal barrier.

Or maybe there was nothing there at all, and this was just another dead end. Part of him eagerly awaited the opening of the portal; another part wished for more time-more time before his hopes were dashed again.

With a firm shake of his head, he forced the negative thoughts deep into the darkness of his mind.

A point of brilliance sprung to life on the surface of the sphere, swelling quickly to become the lightning-limned disk of blackness that had become familiar to Teldin. The Boundless plunged through the portal…

Into total blackness. There were no stars, no sun; there was nothing to give any illumination. For an instant, Teldin thought he'd been struck blind.

"Make lights!" Djan called from beside him. Within a few moments, he saw small flames burst to life around the decks as crew members struck lights with their tinderboxes and ignited strategically placed oil lamps. Djan himself lit the large ship's lantern hanging from the jackstay at the aft rail.

Teldin looked around in puzzlement. Beyond the extent of the ship, there was literally nothing to see, nothing at all. Even the portal had closed behind the ship.

"No stars," he murmured. Then he turned to Djan, and asked, "Is this common?"

The first mate shook his head. "I can't remember ever hearing of a crystal sphere without stars," he admitted. He gestured forward. "Or a fire body of any type."

Teldin looked forward, too, in the direction that should lead to Nex. The half-elf was right: there was no light ahead either.

No sun? he wondered. How could life exist without light? Maybe the sun's burned out… which could explain why the crystal sphere's so small.

"Well, Captain," Djan said slowly, "what course?"

Teldin didn't answer at once. It was a good question. What course do you set in a crystal sphere that seems to be completely empty? And how do you set it anyway, with no stars or sun to navigate by? "Hold position," he ordered. "Let's think about this."

Djan relayed the order down the speaking tube, then announced, "Station-keeping, Captain."

Teldin suppressed a smile. He'd noticed that when the time came for a serious decision, the half-elf would usually become much more formal, addressing the Cloakmaster as "Captain" rather than "Teldin." Did he do it to divorce himself from the responsibility, or to remind Teldin of the weight of his burden? Or was the first mate even aware that he did it? Probably not, Teldin decided.

Regardless, the responsibility was Teldin's. He and only he could decide what to do next.

Well, what he needed at the moment was information- any information-on which to base that decision. But where would he get it'

Possibly from the cloak. He knew that he hadn't explored all of the ultimate helm's powers. Maybe one of those abilities would help him.

"Continue station-keeping," he told Djan. "I'll be below if you need me."

He descended the ladder to the main deck and walked forward into the forecastle. As he did, he noticed that the on-duty crewmen were lining the rails, staring silently into nothingness. Nobody was speaking, but they didn't have to for Teidin to understand their anxiety. Paladine's blood, he felt it himself. Originally, when he'd first taken to space, the star-flecked void had terrified him. Now, however, it was familiar, reassuring, and the absence of stars was cause for concern. He continued forward into his cabin and seated himself on the edge of his bunk.

Now, how do I go about this? he wondered. He'd never consciously used the cloak for information-gathering before. He took several deep breaths, letting the tension flow from his muscles. As he felt his mind grow calm, he let his awareness of the cloak grow. Warmth on his shoulders told him that the artifact was responding. Mentally, he posed a question: What is the nature of this crystal sphere? As he let the warmth wax against his back, he concentrated on that question.

Without warning he felt a new sensation: warmth on his chest as well, where the bronze amulet hung on its chain. Apparently something had triggered the power of that artifact as well. For a moment he felt as though he stood between twin suns, their light shining bone-deep into his body.

Then he gasped as information flooded into his mind….

*****

Djan, Julia, Lucinus, the navigator, and the Cloakmaster stood in the helm compartment around the Boundless's chart table. To the aft of the large compartment, Blossom sat on the helm, a look of calm patience on her face.

Teldin had spread a blank sheet of mapping parchment on the table. He picked up a broad-nibbed pen and dipped it in the table's inkwell. He leaned across the sheet and drew a large circle. "That's the crystal sphere," he said. "As you said, Djan, about a full day's sail in diameter." He drew a black blob halfway between the center of the circle and its periphery "This is a outer planet of the system," he said. "An air world, a small one, about six hours inside the crystal sphere. Frigid-cold, apparently-cold enough that some of the gases in its atmosphere are probably frozen solid."

"Can that be Nex?" Julia asked.

It was Djan who answered with a shake of his head. "I don't think so. And if it is, we may as well leave now and save time and effort. There's no way anything could live there-not anything like life as we know it, that is."

The Cloakmaster nodded agreement. From what he'd read about the Juna, the worlds they chose to colonize and alter were similar in climate to Krynn and Toril, hinting that the mysterious creatures shared at least some characteristics of humans and demihumans.

"Are there any other planets?" Lucinus, the ginger-haired halfling navigator, wanted to know.

"One," Teldin announced. "Here, right at the center." He drew another blob in the middle of the circle. "It's an earth world…." His voice trailed off.

"But… ?" Djan prompted.

"But I didn't find any fire bodies," the Cloakmaster continued. "No sun, or suns. Now," he went on quickly, "I didn't actually see the system. I… "-he paused, trying to find the right word-"I felt it. And I don't know whether I learned everything about it."

Djan nodded slowly, looking at Teldin's rough drawing. "An earth-centric system without a sun," he mused. "Unusual. Very unusual." He looked up. "You're sure about this?"

"As sure as I can be, considering."

Lucinus piped up again. "Maybe your… your perception has a size limitation," he suggested. "Maybe you can't… experience anything smaller than a certain size. Class B, for example, thirty leagues or so in diameter. Much too small for a sun."

"Couldn't you have a tiny, very bright sun?" Teldin asked.

The halfling didn't answer, just gave the Cloakmaster a patronizing smile.

"Is there anything else?" Djan asked after a few moments.

"Yes," Teldin said slowly. "There's something, but I'm not sure I know exactly what it is." With the pen, he scribbled in an amorphous band encircling the central blob, a fraction of the way out.

"What's that'" Lucinus wanted to know, standing on tiptoe for a better view.

"A dust cloud of some kind, I think," Teldin said. "It forms a complete shell around the world at the center, about an hour out."

"Maybe it glows on the inner surface," Julia suggested. "Maybe it gives heat and light to the planet…"

Teldin cut her off gently. "According to what I felt, it's almost as cold as the outer planet." He frowned grimly. "But there's got to be something I'm missing. The book said ships that came here never returned. There's nothing I've seen that could do that."

"Maybe," Djan said with a shrug. "But maybe not. There's no light, no stars to navigate by. Ships would be flying totally blind. Maybe they rammed the frozen air world. They couldn't even detect the boundary of the crystal sphere," he went on. "They could have rammed right into it." He shrugged again. "It's possible."

Teldin wouldn't be swayed. "Then what about the ships that did make it back?" he demanded. "The ones that told of being attacked by immense forces of magic?"

"Spacefarers' tales, perhaps?" the half-elf suggested. Then he smiled. "But you're right, of course, it is a mystery, isn't it'\? I hate leaving a mystery unsolved. And anyway, it's not as if it'll take long to find out. If this is Nex"-he tapped the central dot-"we can be there in twelve hours at full speed."

*****

They didn't travel all the way at full speed, of course. The Boundless plunged through the blackness of wildspace, only to slow just outside where the dust cloud began. At tactical speed, the squid ship edged inward.

Teldin and his two mates were on the foredeck as the vessel began to penetrate the cloud. To the Cloakmaster's naked eyes, there was nothing different about this part of space. Outside the radius of illumination cast by the Boundless's running lights, there was just impenetrable darkness, with no details or texture visible. At first, Teldin had wondered whether the information the cloak and amulet had given him had been wrong, whether there wasn't anything in this region of space at all. But then word had been relayed up from the helm that the ship was encountering some kind of resistance and traveling slower than projected.

Both Julia and Djan had expressed worry about the dust or gas or whatever diffusing into the squid ship's atmosphere envelope, possibly fouling or even poisoning it. Yet that didn't seem to be happening. Teldin took a deep breath, scenting the air. If there was anything filtering into the ship's air, he couldn't detect it with any of his senses.

"What's that?" Julia was leaning on the forward rail, pointing.

Teldin looked in the direction she was indicating, straight out along the squid ship's ram.

He saw light! It was a faint, unfocused glow, so weak that he could almost believe it was his imagination.

But Djan was staring in the same direction, his mouth hanging open in surprise.

At first too faint to be said to have color, the light was taking on a red-orange hue, rather like the glow of a sunrise seen through a pre-dawn fog. With each passing second, the illumination grew in intensity. The Boundless was emerging from the inner edge of the dust cloud, Teldin realized.

The three comrades watched in silence as the light continued to intensify. Then, with shocking suddenness, the squid ship emerged into clear space once more.

After a long moment, Djan turned from his gaping stare at the vista to ask Teldin, "Just what in all the hells is that?"

Teldin felt a broad smile spreading across his face. "Nex," said the Cloakmaster.

*****

The Boundless hung in a high orbit, three thousand leagues above the surface of the planet. On the afterdeck, Teldin stared down with a sense of awestruck amazement at the world below him.

It was a vibrant, living world-the brilliant blues of oceans contrasting with the verdant greens of forest-covered continents-streaked and swathed with the gleaming white of clouds. From this altitude it looked so much like his last glimpses of Krynn as to bring a lump into the Cloakmaster's throat and sting his eyes with tears.

With a sudden laugh, he threw the cloak back from his shoulders. Even this high above the planet, space was comfortably warm. From the vegetation he could pick out below him, he guessed the climate of the world would probably be much like that of Ansalon.

We should have thought of this, he told himself. One of us should have guessed. But no-we're all so used to the standard pattern, where a planet orbits around a much larger sun, or perhaps where the sun orbits the planet. Our preconceptions prevent us from anticipating the wonders the universe puts before us.

The planet-it had to be Nex, didn't it?-had not one sun, but many. Orbiting at an altitude of about two thousand leagues were two dozen tiny spheres, burning so brightly with red-orange light that to look directly at them set tears streaming. The "mini-suns," as he'd taken to calling them, moved rapidly, each following its own orbit, yet somehow never coming near any of the others. Teldin guessed that, at any given time, any point on the planet would have at least two mini-suns in the sky. Hence, there'd be no night, and a new "mini-dawn" every couple of minutes.

He chuckled again. No wonder the cloak had shown him no sun. When he'd brought Lucinus up on deck to show him the spectacle, the halfling navigator had abashedly admitted that each mini-sun was no more than a league in diameter. "Class A suns," he'd muttered. "Who'd have thought it?"

Not you, Teldin thought.

I should be excited, he told himself, on edge to get down there and see what there was to be seen. But he found himself calmer than he'd been in a while-a long while. The phlogiston river, the crystal sphere, and the world of Nex- all had been just where the old book had said they were. As to the Juna themselves… Well, there was no reason to go charging down to the planet's surface right away. Everything would come in its own good time.

Anyway, it simply wouldn't be safe to move yet. Djan, Lucinus, and Julia were up on the foredeck now, using astrolabes, sextants, and other instruments to track the movements of the mini-suns, analyze their orbits, and figure out how to project their future positions. The burning spheres moved fast, faster than a spelljammer at tactical speed. Until the experts worked out their paths and found a "window," any attempt to land would be a crazy risk. An impact from a mini-sun would smash the squid ship into burning splinters, while even a near hit might set the vessel on fire.

The view from up here was so beautiful; Teldin was in no hurry to give up this perfect vantage point. As he watched, a spot on the upper left limb of the planet seemed to glow yellow, then red. Then another mini-sun soared clear, looking for all the world like a flaming spelljammer climbing from the land into space.

He forced his eyes away from the vista as Djan clambered up the ladder to the afterdeck. Teldin could see the anticipation in the half-elf s face. "Have you found your window?" he asked.

"We've found it," the first mate confirmed, it's narrow, but safe enough. It'll take us down about there"-he pointed to the lower right quadrant of the planet-"on that large continent. If that's what you want, of course, Captain," he corrected. "Once we're past the mini-suns, we can cruise anywhere you want to go."

"One place is as good as another." Teldin shrugged.

"Do you want to take the window?"

"Let's do it," the Cloakmaster confirmed.

*****

The afterdeck was crowded as the Boundless began its descent. Lucinus and Julia continued to take bearings on the speeding mini-suns, every few seconds wiping streaming eyes. Djan had a sextant, too, and used it occasionally; however, most of his attention was taken up with relaying course corrections to Blossom on the helm. Teldin considered clearing the deck to give them more room. But they seemed to be managing fine, and the afterdeck was his favorite vantage point.

"Steady as she goes," Djan instructed down the speaking tube.

Nex was swelling steadily below them now, as they descended to the altitude at which the mini-suns orbited. He could see now how frighteningly fast the fiery bodies actually moved, and how large they were. When Lucinus had told him they were "only" a league in diameter, he'd been thinking in planetary terms. Now he realized that the smallest had a diameter more than two hundred times the length of the squid ship. If Julia and the navigator made a mistake with their bearings, the chances of anyone surviving were zero.

But Teldin had little fear that they would make a mistake. They'd taken enough time analyzing the mini-suns' orbits, and even now they were cross-checking each other's results to eliminate any chance of error. The "window" was still open, and would remain so for almost a dozen more minutes-plenty long enough to get the Boundless to a safe altitude.

He craned his neck to look all around. The mini-suns orbited at different altitudes-which was why they never collided, he guessed-spread out over a range of more than a hundred leagues. The squid ship was already in the midst of that "danger band," closer to the planet than some of the fire bodies, but higher than others. For the next couple of minutes, they'd theoretically still be at risk.

"Steady as she goes," Djan said again. Then he asked the observers, "Everything still on track?"

"Still on track," Julia confirmed.

Then, suddenly, "No!" She pointed up and back, over the ship's stern. "Port astern, high. One's off track!"

Teldin felt tension grip his chest. His fingernails bit into his palms as he clenched his fists. He looked back, following the direction of Julia's arm.

He could immediately see the mini-sun she meant, about fifteen degrees above the stern rail and an equal angle to port of the squid ship's track. It was still a good distance away, not a direct threat to the ship… yet.

"Observation error?" Djan queried. "Check it again."

The two observers raised their instruments, confirming the bearing of the speeding object. "It's off projected course," Julia answered after a few moments. "Ten degrees off." Then, a couple of heartbeats later, "No, more. Fifteen degrees and increasing."

"What in Paladine's name is happening?" the Cloakmaster demanded. He felt suddenly, sickeningly powerless. For an instant he felt an almost uncontrollable urge to use the ultimate helm, to speed the Boundless on its way. But he couldn't, he recognized at once. His crew had computed this "window" based on a certain ship speed. If he changed that speed, or the ship's course, he ran a very real risk of driving the vessel into the path of another mini-sun.

"Mini-sun increasing speed!" For the first time ever, he heard real panic in Julia's voice. "Twenty-five degrees off projected course, deviation increasing!"

In a hushed voice, Lucinus echoed the realization that had, an instant before, struck Teldin. "It's coming after us!"

"Helm," Djan yelled down the speaking tube, "full speed! Now!"

"What about the atmosphere?" Lucinus cried. "If we hit the atmosphere at full speed…"

"By the mind of Marrak!" Djan snarled. "If we don't get out of the way now, we'll never get that far."

Teldin felt the motion of the Boundless change as Blossom poured on the power. He could see the mini-sun changing course, curving from its previous trajectory to follow the speeding ship down.

How's this possible? The question hammered in Teldin's brain.

Nex, part of his mind answered. Nex-violent death. Now you know why it has that name….

"It's gaining!" Lucinus called.

"More speed!" Djan barked down the speaking tube. "Give it everything you've got!"

The deck vibrated under Teldin's feet as Blossom pushed the helm-and herself-to the limit. His ears were filled with the thrum of the rigging's vibrations.

"Still gaining!" Lucinus's voice was a wail that easily carried over the background din.

Teldin could see that he was right. The mini-sun was dead astern now, swelling ominously with every passing moment. He could feel heat like midsummer sun on his face. From the ship's movement he knew Blossom had reached the maximum speed she could manage, and still the mini-sun closed the gap. The heat falling on Teldin's skin continued to increase.

Before he even knew he'd made the decision, he felt the cloak flare with power and felt his awareness expand to include the entire squid ship. He could feel the mini-sun's burning heat on the ship's stern, the strain the speed was putting on the rigging.

"Get Blossom off the helm." His voice sounded calm, emotionless, in his own ears. Djan relayed the order.

As the woman released her control over the major helm, the Cloakmaster felt his command of the vessel become total. He almost lost his footing as the squid ship leaped forward, doubling, then tripling its speed in only a few seconds.

But, in his wraparound view, he could see the mini-sun still closing. He saw, as well as felt, the paint on the stern flukes and spanker sails start to bubble with the heat. He gritted his teeth and drove the full force of his will into the cloak. Still the Boundless accelerated.

"Still pursuing!" Julia called out; Teldin could clearly see the burning sphere on their tail.

But it's not closing! he told himself exultantly. The gap between mini-sun and squid ship was remaining constant. No, it was starting to open up again. The heat on the stern was diminishing. I'm pulling away!

"Still pursuing!" Julia repeated. Then, "No!" she shouted. "It's changing course again."

Teldin was tempted to slow the ship down-the planet below was looming up awfully quickly-but he kept the power on. It could be a trick, he told himself. If a gods-damned burning rock can give chase, it might have more tricks in its repertoire.

But then even he, without the benefit of a sextant or astrolabe, could see that the mini-sun had broken off the pursuit and was climbing again, back toward its normal orbit.

He gasped as Djan grabbed his arm in a grip like a vise. "Pull up, Teldin!" the half-elf almost screamed into his ear. "Pull up!"

Nex was much closer now-no longer so much a planet as a landscape, with the world's curvature more inferred than directly visible. He could feel the rigging straining as the ship entered the outer wisps of the planet's atmosphere. Normally a ship's own air envelope would protect it from turbulence and from the effects of entering a planetary atmosphere, he knew, but not at speeds like this. He closed his eyes, focusing every fiber of his being on bringing the Boundless out of its lethal dive.

Pain racked him; he clenched his teeth, trying to hold back a scream. The strain on the squid ship's keel burned up and down his own spine. He felt as though he were being torn in two. His skin crawled as he heard the keening of wind through the vessel's lines, the musket-shot cracking of the sails' canvas. We're not going to make it, he told himself.

But that thought was the spur he needed. He forced himself to dissociate from the ship's pain, concentrated the last iota of his will on bringing the bow up, up, away from the planet.

The strain lessened-imperceptibly at first, then with growing rapidity. As the ship's speed decreased, and its nose-down attitude changed, the stress on the hull and rigging diminished. I'm doing it! he thought, with a flash of triumph. He brought the bow up even farther…

And it was over. Back out of the atmosphere, back in the vacuum for which it had been built, the Boundless was back under control.

Teldin released the force of his will; the sense of internal relaxation was directly analogous to easing tension in a strained muscle. He felt the breath hiss from between his teeth, felt his shoulders sag. He opened his eyes again.

The Boundless was hurtling in a low orbit, maybe twenty leagues above ground level. It was still traveling abnormally fast, but the danger seemed over. He let the speed bleed away.

We're safe, he thought as he climbed up to the deck.

Djan, Julia, and Lucinus were clinging to the rails, their faces paste-white, their wide eyes staring at him, He forced a smile, saw their answering relief. "We've made it," he whispered. Their exhausted smiles mirrored his.

He wouldn't have seen it if his sphere of attention didn't still surround the entire ship. A sudden fire-red glow bloomed on the planet's surface. Another mini-dawn, he thought.

But no, the light wasn't on the horizon, it was directly beneath the squid ship.

Before he could react in any way, a titanic burst of searing energy arced from the ground twenty leagues below, flashing past the Boundless like an oversize lightning bolt. Concussion like a dozen thunderclaps pummeled him as the bolt superheated the outer edge of the ship's air envelope. Screams echoed around him, audible even over the ringing in his ears.

Another glow sprung to life, now to the left of the ship's path. Another bolt arced skyward, burning past the hull.

Another glow, another bolt, then another. Instantly he knew this one wasn't going to miss like the preceding three.

He felt the impact like a punch over the heart delivered by an ogre. He felt the ship's hull rupture, felt his body torn asunder. Redness, then blackness, enveloped him.

"We're going down!" Julia screamed.

And her voice followed Teldin down into unconsciousness.