"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.