"Then an elven warrior, an adventurer named Raven Stormwalker, gathered an army from the far-flung elven kingdoms. She was a fierce fighter, a master of the bow and broadsword, and she had an uncanny ability to rally her troops. Under her banner came a score of races, including good and even neutral dragons. The evil dragons were driven from the island, but Raven Stormwalker was grievously wounded in the final battle. She was carried away by a gold dragon whom she had befriended, and from thence she passed into folklore. She was not seen again, and although there were rumors and legends, no one learned what her true end was."

Teldin massaged his aching temples. "A point," he pleaded.

"Raven Stormwalker was a moon elf of exceptional beauty," Vallus continued, as if he had not heard the man. "She wore her night-black hair in plaits that fell to her knees.

Her most striking feature, however, was her mismatched eyes. One was gold, the other silver. The good dragons considered this a favorable omen, I believe." Vallus paused to let the import of this sink in. "It goes against elven culture to name someone after a hero or a historic figure. I have every reason to believe there is only one Raven Stormwalker."

Teldin opened his eyes cautiously. "Wait a minute. You think your Raven Stormwalker and mine are one and the same?"

"Yours, is she?" Vallus asked sharply.

Teldin flapped one hand in a vague, helpless gesture. "A figure of speech, that's all."

"I hope so," Vallus mused, looking deeply disturbed. He gazed at Teldin with somber eyes. "There is more to my tale, and it gets more disturbing. Have you noticed that the dracons all but genuflect before her, and the dogged perseverance with which the aperusa pursues her? You should have seen her holding court in the mess at dawnfry. Almost without exception the crew is quite taken with her."

"So? Maybe they share your fascination with elven history," Teldin said with heavy sarcasm.

"No." Vallus shook his head emphatically. "The legend of Raven Stormwalker is well known to all dragon races-including dracons-but, except for Toril's elves, few who are not scholars or historians know it."

"Enough about this thrice-damned legend," Teldin snapped, getting unsteadily to his feet. "How an you tell a tale like this with a straight face? How old would she have to be? One thousand years? Two?"

"Four," the elf said softly.

Teldin's eyebrow flew up. "Do elves live that long?"

"Not normally, no."

"Then how-"

"She's not an elf!"

The wizard's shout shocked Teldin into silence. Vallus composed himself quickly and continued in a softer tone. "Even four thousand years ago, some ships traveled the stars. I believe that Raven Stormwalker took to the stars and met some mishap. She became a survivor. Do you know that term?" When Teldin shook his head, Vallus continued. "A being who is set adrift in the phlogiston does not necessarily die. Some remain in a suspended state for centuries, floating in the rainbow rivers until rescued by some well-meaning fool."

"I've no idea how you came up with this," Teldin observed with honest astonishment.

"How, then, do you explain her appearance? Her antique weapons? Even her name?" Vallus asked sharply.

Teldin gave a helpless shrug. "Look, I'll admit that there's more to Raven Stormwalker than meets the eye, but this theory of yours is beyond belief. Even if-and that's a very big if-you're right about this, what's the harm of it?"

"A survivor changes," Vallus said quietly. "It becomes an altered demihuman driven by insatiable hungers. To make up for centuries of sensory deprivations, she will take over the minds of every member of the crew, draining us of thought and emotion and intellect like a vampire drains his victims of blood. Not to think, not to know," he concluded softly. "It would be the worst kind of living death."

Teldin laughed outright, earning a shocked look from the wizard. "I'm sorry, Vallus, but I just can't believe any of this."

"Oh no? It's happening already. Remember yesterday in the bridge? When we asked her why she took to the stars, she gave my answer. She took it from my mind."

"Actually, Vallus, it just might mean you two have something in common," Teldin suggested with false gravity. "Are you in the market for a Mistress Leafbower?"

The elf chose to ignore his gibe. "The aperusa's obsession with her is not normal, and the dracons haven't been themselves since she came on board. Those three have had the most contact with her. I fear for you, Teldin Moore," he said earnestly, "and I fear what would happen to the cloak if she were to hold you in thrall. Next to the power of a survivor, the effect of Rianna Wyvernsbane's charm spell would be nothing."

Teldin sucked in a sharp, surprised gasp. For a long moment he felt as if someone had gut-punched him. No matter how upset Vallus Leafbower might be, the reference to Rianna was unforgivably tactless. Teldin nodded pointedly toward the cabin door.

"I'll give your words all the consideration they deserve," he said coldly.

"Not enough," Vallus insisted. "Any delay could be disastrous. She must leave the ship at once."

Teldin cast a glance at the cabin porthole. The rainbow hues of the phlogiston tumbled by in lazy, random patterns. Out there was vast space and unimaginably brilliant color, but nothing else. "How do you proposed to accomplish that?" he asked. "We're several days from any port, and we haven't a small craft to spare."

"Jettison her," Vallus said firmly. "It's that or lose everything we are."

Teldin stared at the elven wizard, utterly horrified. He shook his head in disbelief, then, without a word, he yanked on his boots and strode from the cabin.

Left alone, Vallus sank wearily onto the cabin's only chair. If the human was coming under the sway of a survivor, Vallus would have to take the cloak after all. The elven wizard dropped his head in his hands, and for several long moments he mourned for Teldin Moore and for the loss of his own freedom.

*****

Teldin came on deck just in time to see the damselfly touch down. A small crowd was gathering around the spindly, insectlike craft, and the elves had their weapons handy. The ever-curious dracons were there, of course. Teldin also spotted Estriss in the crowd and hurried over to him. He had not seen the illithid for several days; Estriss had kept to his cabin and had declined visitors.

"What's going on here?" he asked the illithid.

The damselfly appeared, suddenly, just outside of the swan ship's air envelope, Estriss informed him. Teldin noted that the illithid's mental voice seemed somehow edgy, agitated. They raised the flag for ship in distress and then landed. It all happened so suddenly that there was no time to summon you or Vallus.

Before Teldin could speak, the door of the craft swung open and a lone arcane, bent almost double to keep his blue domed head clear of the door, ducked through the too-small opening. The creature awkwardly descended the rope ladder to the deck. He unfolded himself to his full twelve-foot height, then spread his six-fingered blue hands to show he was without weapons. "I am called Npamta. We mean you no harm. We come seeking trade," the arcane said in the oddly expressionless voice Teldin had come to associate with the race.

A second figure exploded from the craft, disdaining the ladder and landing on deck beside the arcane with a clank of armor. Immediately elven steel flashed as the crew circled the newcomer, an exotically beautiful female warrior dressed in plate armor and intricate body paint. The woman glared defiantly at the elven warriors. "Where's the dragon?" she demanded.

A lakshu. Estriss's words formed in Teldin's mind, holding a touch of wonder and excitement. You might meet a reigar after all. The snake bracelet on her forearm is a shakti, a sign that she is pledged in service to a reigar.