"Except in one important point," Aelfred cut in as he set a pewter goblet down in front of Teldin. "Estriss won't try to steal your girl." He settled his bulk into a chair and lifted his booted feet up onto the table. He raised his own goblet. "Health, to both of you."

"Health." Teldin echoed the toast and took a tentative sip from the goblet. The sharp, somehow smoky taste and the tingling of his tongue identified the drink at once. It was a liquor called sagecoarse, distilled-so Aelfred had told him-from an extract of the plant bearing the same name. Neither drink nor plant was native to either Toril or Krynn. Apparently the burly first mate had discovered the liquor on some backwater world in another sphere, had developed a taste for it, and had ever since made sure he had a good supply available.

"It's an acquired taste," Aelfred had told him when he'd first poured him a sample, on Teldin's second day aboard the Probe. Teldin could easily accept that, but had wondered why anybody would bother. Now, however, after a few more opportunities to sample the liquor, Teldin found he didn't mind the flavor and rather enjoyed the sharp, tingling sensation it caused on his tongue. He'd never had any great penchant for hard liquor, though, and that attitude certainly wasn't going to be changed by sagecoarse. Whether or not it was unsophisticated-as Aelfred jokingly claimed-he still preferred a foaming tankard of good ale.

The mind flayer's silent words brought him back to the present. Teldin wished to discuss the arcane, Estriss said. He has-the illithid paused-a curiosity about the other races of the universe, as he has just shown. Estriss fixed Teldin with a white-eyed look.

The significance of neither the pause nor the look was lost on Teldin. Estriss was clearly leaving it up to him whether or not he told Aelfred anything about the cloak. Teldin hesitated. He trusted Aelfred, but if he broached the subject now, he'd be bogged down in what, at the moment, were irrelevancies. He could always tell Aelfred later. "That's right," Teldin said smoothly, "I'm curious. Tell me about the arcane."

It was Aelfred who answered first. "Merchants," he grunted. "Traders. Gypsies of space. It doesn't matter who the customers are. If there's money in it, they'll deal."

Stripped of the negative emotion, Estriss continued, the statements are accurate. The arcane are a race of humanoids- blue of skin and perhaps twice your height, but otherwise not that different in appearance from humans.

"Maybe to an illithid," Aelfred snorted, but his quick smile robbed the words of any offense. "Wait till you see one, Teldin."

They are traders, Estriss continued patiently. It is the arcane who are the suppliers of virtually all spacefaring technology used by my race, by yours, and by most other races in the universe. They build ships for the beholder nations, passage devices for the lizard men, planetary locators for the Elven Imperial Navy, and spelljamming helms for all and sundry.

Teldin tried to keep his bewilderment from showing on his face. Estriss had casually tossed out names and concepts as though they were well known… which they probably were to people familiar with spacefaring. Teldin had heard legends about beholders and could-with a mental stretch-imagine the eye tyrants cruising the universe in ships of their own. But an Elven Imperial Navy? There was no way he could reconcile so grand a concept with the few soul-weary refugees from Silvanesti that he'd met. The rest-passage devices and all- were just so many meaningless words.

If he were to show his confusion, he knew Estriss would quite likely explain each concept in detail and never get around to the arcane. He kept his peace.

As Aelfred has stated, Estriss was continuing, if their price is met, the. arcane will deal with anyone… with one exception. They will not trade with the neogi. He paused as if waiting for a response.

"Well, that's reassuring," Teldin offered weakly.

"Oh, aye," Aelfred said sarcastically. "The arcane won't trade with neogi, but they will trade with others, knowing full well that their customers are going to turn around and sell the goods to the neogi. I have no love for the arcane, I'll tell you that." He sighed, and his anger faded. "But it's true that we depend on them. Where do you think people like us buy the helms to run our ships? From the arcane. It's the only place you can get 'em. The blue ones are a necessary evil."

Teldin digested this for a moment, then asked, "Where's their home? Do they have their own planet?" He looked meaningfully at Estriss.

We presume they must have, the mind flayer answered, or that they once did have, but its location-or perhaps its fate- is known only to the arcane….

"And they're not telling," Aelfred finished. "Oh, various groups have tried to find out. Some want to know just because they're curious, others because they think the knowledge will give them power. Maybe they think they can blackmail the arcane or something like that. Others, I'm sure, want to find it so they can conquer it, and then they'll own all the arcane'; technology or magic or whatever it is that lets them create spelljamming helms. I like that one," he scoffed. "As if a race with that much power is going to let anyone just waltz in and take over."

"So the arcane are powerful at magic?" Teldin speculated.

Aelfred shrugged. "I guess they'd have to be. Spelljamming helms aren't technological, not the way you're probably thinking. If the arcane can create them-which, I suppose, isn't a sure thing-that means they're capable of enchanting powerful artifacts."

Teldin found himself fingering the hem of the cloak. He took his hand away quickly. "The arcane's world," he went on. "Nobody's found it?"

"Not even a clue," Aelfred said positively. "Nobody even knows what crystal shell it's in, or even if it exists anymore. There are legends, of course. Just about every group that's ever had dealings with the arcane has some kind of folk tale about them."

"Tell me some," Teldin said.

"Well…" The warrior thought for a moment. "There's one that the arcane's world isn't in a crystal sphere at all, and that they've hidden it off somewhere in the flow. Impossible, of course. Then there's the one I like. According to a thri-kreen legend, the arcane traded their home world to some elder god for the Spelljammer-you've heard of the Spelljammer?" Teldin nodded, controlling his impulse to look at Estriss. "Well, the legend goes on that the arcane couldn't control the Spelljammer and that they somehow caused their world to fall into its sun, destroying it. That's why they're interstellar vagabonds."

"Do you believe that?" Teldin asked.

Aelfred looked a little scornful. "Of course I don't. It's just a good story."

Teldin allowed himself a sidelong glance at Estriss. "So where would you go if you want to meet an arcane?" he asked casually.

"Anywhere," Aelfred replied offhandedly. "You're as likely-or as unlikely-to find a space-gypsy in any port city on any world in any crystal sphere as… Or, at least, any world that knows about spelljamming," he amended.

"How about on Toril?" Teldin suggested.

It was Estriss who answered him. There are probably many arcane on Toril. I have met one in Calimport and another in Waterdeep. I hear rumors that they run an open trading post at a place called the Dock in the Wu Pi Te Shao Mountains, but I doubt this is true. He paused. Since they almost invariably work through human intermediaries, and reveal their presence only when it suits them to do so, there may be arcane in many cities of Toril.

Teldin digested that for a moment. "What about… where is it we're going?"

Rauthaven, the illithid responded, then paused. I have heard from travelers that at least two arcane dwell on the Beacon Rocks, northeast of the city, in the Great Sea. I am almost certain that there will be an arcane in Rauthaven, if only temporarily.