A hint of light returned to the wizard's eyes as Netarza allowed him to reclaim enough of his mind and memory to perform the required spell. The elf's index finger moved sluggishly through the gestures of the spell, and his voice was slurred as he muttered arcane syllables.
Teldin stiffened, enraged by the magical intrusion on his life. He had no idea what information the spell would yield, but anything would be too much.
"There is magic about his cloak," the wizard began in a dull tone.
The illithid hissed her exasperation and shoved the elf aside. She stepped forward and took the silky green fabric of the cloak between her fingers. Instinctively Teldin swatted away her hand. She released the cloak and caught his wrist in a movement almost too quick for his eyes to follow.
You don't want me to touch your cloak? I wonder why, she asked sweetly. Perhaps there were some gems amid the rubble of Estriss's tales and theories, after all. He mentioned an artifact of the Juna, and claimed that anyone with magical ability who touched the artifact could thereafter track it. Not that I would be so foolish as to let such an artifact out of my sight, she concluded. One of her facial tentacles arched in an approximated sneer as she cast a glance in Estriss's direction.
Despite the danger of his situation, Netarza's words struck Teldin like a blow. They confirmed something he had long suspected: from the very beginning, Estriss had known about his cloak and had tracked him down, hoping to possess it. An old sadness, one that he had thought long spent, welled up in Teldin, and he met the expressionless eyes of his false friend with an accusing gaze.
Tell Netarza nothing, urged Estriss's mental voice, throbbing with intensity. In her own way, she and all her kind are as evil as the neogi. The Spelljammer in their hands is a possibility too appalling to contemplate. On this you must trust me.
Teldin stood silently for a long moment, considering the illithid's fervent request. Once he had trusted Estriss. The warning given by his cloak and his own instincts told him he must do so now. Whether Estriss was friend or foe was a question for another, safer time.
Is the cloak this artifact of the Juna?Netarza asked Estriss. Whatever he said about either cloak or its potential creators was for her mind alone, and she seemed less than pleased with the answer. The illithid captain abandoned that line of inquiry and turned to her other guest. You will tell me about this cloak of yours, Teldin Moore, Netarza stated, her white eyes locked with his.
Teldin felt the first tendrils of control slip into his mind. He took a reflexive step backward. "Another time," he replied. "I must return to my ship now."
The illithid's shoulders shook with silent laughter. You have a sense of humor, I see. I think I would enjoy taking your thoughts, Teldin Moore, but I must remember my pledge to the elder-brain. She turned to her slaves. Take our guests below and put a guard on their quarters until whatever time Teldin Moore feels like talking, she said, broadcasting her instructions.
A sharp gasp burst from the dracons. "A guard? You mean to keep Captain Teldin Moore prisoner?" Chirp asked in a shrill squeak.
"But kaba Netarza, this is most irregular," Trivit protested. The pale green dracon had been standing quietly by, watching his clan leader with growing confusion and dismay.
"Most irregular," Chirp echoed, obviously in deep distress. "This human rescued us from a beholder, and surely he should be honored and rewarded, not-" Overcome with emotion, Chirp broke off, biting his reptilian lip to keep it from quivering.
The dracons' chagrin seemed only to amuse Netarza. She reached up and patted Chirp's dark green cheek. Take them below, she repeated, then she spun and walked away.
Elves surrounded Teldin and Estriss, and the two "guests" were roughly herded below deck and through a narrow hall. Teldin glanced back at the troubled dracons, wondering whether he should try to warn them about what lay in store for them. Perhaps such knowledge at this point would only endanger them; it would seem that their safety lay in their continued ignorance. Of one thing Teldin was sure: if he managed to escape the illithid ship-a distinct possibility, given the creatures' oversight in leaving him armed-he would find a way to bring Chirp and Trivit with him.
When the door to the cabin clicked shut behind them, Teldin turned to his fellow captive. "What's going on, Estriss? How did you get here? I thought you were-" He broke off abruptly.
Dead? Estriss finished coldly. He held his facial tentacles stiff and immobile, a clear sign of his emotional detachment. Illithids require less air than humans, and I survived in the void long enough to be rescued by this group from Falx.
There was so much to say that Teldin did not know how to start, or what to do to bridge the gap of betrayal that lay between them.
"I've heard that the mind flayers of Falx were going after the cloak-"
And you assume that I was in league with them, Estriss finished coldly. I deserved better from you than to be judged solely on the basis of my race.
Deeply ashamed, Teldin averted his eyes from the mind flayer's steady, white-eyed gaze. The words Estriss had just formed were not new to Teldin; they had echoed in his own mind since the mutiny, which Aelfred and Sylvie had helped him lead.
"You're here," Teldin observed lamely.
Yes, but not by my own choice, the illithid said. There was a long silence, then his shoulders rose and fell in a great sigh. Much of what is said of my race is true, Teldin Moore, but I despise the slave trade and all those who engage in it. I find slavery morally repugnant-a view, I might add, that is virtually unique among illithids.
Teldin nodded. From the first day he'd met Estriss, he could not consider him a monster, despite his appearance. He could not say the same thing for Netarza and her crew. Those illithids seemed to require a new word for evil. Estriss was right; in their own way they were every bit as bad as the neogi. But even if Estriss was different from most of his kind, there still was much about the past that lacked explanation.
"The threat from the Falx illithids was only one thing of many," Teldin continued, determined to have the whole truth. "Our first meeting aboard the Probe could not have been a coincidence. You came after me. If not to gain the cloak for yourself, then why?"
That is a long story, one better left for another time. Estriss's mental voice was suddenly weary, and he sank down on one of a few narrow cots in the cell. There are more immediate concerns.
"Like keeping the Spelljammer out of Netarza's hands," Teldin said.
Actually, Netarza does not seek the Spelljammer, Estriss replied, though she would hardly turn down a chance at the great ship. She does not know why the elder-brain seeks the cloak, but she harbors ambitions of her own and command of the Spelljammer would certainly further them. Most illithids are content to gain power through trade and information; Netarza seeks military strength as well. To what end, I am not sure. She is searching for the homeworld of the dracons, planning to raise a mindless army.
"How can Chirp and Trivit not realize what's going on?" Teldin demanded. "Can't they see that they're surrounded by slaves?"
Estriss shifted his shoulders in a crooked shrug. The dracons have an inborn sense of order. Each clan must have a leader and a spiritual guide. The dracons' need for this structure is so imperative that they will die if deprived of a clan setting, and perhaps this need has blinded them to the true nature of their adopted clan.