Hectate had to turn away from the sight of her. "What manner of creature have you become, Tekura?" he asked softly. His gaze shifted to the insectare, and the implication was unmistakable. Tekura flushed, but she lifted her chin in defiance.

"An outcast," she said flatly, "like all bionoids. Our only hope of improving our lot is to break the power of the elves."

"But what happens once the elven high command is destroyed?" Hectate argued. "How will that aid the bionoids? The goblin races, particularly the scro, will simply fill the void. They hate all things elven or elflike. Do you think they will regard us with tolerance and respect?"

"So far, they've-" Tekura broke off abruptly, biting her lip in chagrin. She looked quickly at the insectare, who merely regarded her with his strange, expressionless eyes.

"No, Tekura. You can't be working with the scro," Hectate said, aghast. Despite everything he'd seen, he could not bring himself to believe that of Clan Kir.

"We are using the scro," K'tide corrected. "The alliance is regrettable, but necessary. Only orc priests know the rituals that hold the primary Witchlight Marauder in thrall."

Hectate shook his head in disbelief. The primary Witchlight Marauder was an enormous slug whose mouths consumed everything in its path-metal and minerals as well as living things-and produced poisonous gas and more marauders. A well-fed primary marauder periodically would spawn secondaries, which were gray monsters twenty feet tall with six-taloned hands and insatiable appetites for elven flesh. They, in turn, ejected tertiary marauders, miniature versions of themselves that had two metallic swords for each hand. The tertiaries were incomparable berserker warriors who finished off any living thing the larger monsters might have missed. Once the creatures ran out of food, they turned upon and destroyed each other; not, however, before their entire environment had been laid waste.

"The orcs were willing to revive the primary marauder and feed it until it released secondaries?" Hectate asked in disbelief. "The risks are incredible!"

"Indeed they are," the insectare agreed. "A number of orc priests were killed during the process. But the goblinkin are so eager to wash their hands in elven blood that they are willing to endure such losses."

Hectate felt numbed by the appalling revelation. "And you share that emotion, Tekura?"

"Why not?" The silver-haired bionoid stepped closer, and Hectate saw the unmistakable flame of fanaticism in her eyes. "The primary Witchlight Marauder, the source of our secondary weapons, was hidden on Armistice, frozen under a time-stop spell." She paused, and her smile was grim. "I don't think the goblins had much to do with that decision."

"What are you saying?"

"Think, Hectate. Do you think the Witchlight Marauder exists on Armistice due to elven oversight" she demanded. "I'd wager my life that the elves not only know about it, but that they deliberately trapped the goblins on Armistice with that monster. It gives them a convenient way to destroy the goblinkin if the urge arises."

"I can't believe that," Hectate said flatly. "Assuming the elves would sanction the destruction of an entire world, they would never deliberately allow a marauder to live."

"Believe it," she said flatly.

Hectate was silent for many moments, then he looked up into the grave face of Wynlar, the clan leader. "What does a bionoid clan have to do with this?"

"Bionoids," Tekura echoed bitterly before Wynlar could respond. "The name we were given says it all. Bionoid, a simulated life form, not quite alive. Don't you see, Hectate?" she concluded passionately. "As far as the elves are concerned, we are monsters that they once created and now regret, not true and living beings. They have no concern for us; do not waste yours on them."

Hectate's eyes drifted shut. He had no arguments for her. He had left Clan Kir because he could not agree with their increasingly militant goals, yet he had no illusions about the elven opinions concerning his race. For years he had traveled alone, gaining a measure of acceptance because of his skills. More than anything, Hectate wished to be known and valued for his ability as a navigator, not be defined as a bionoid or even a half-elf. Despite Teldin Moore's persistent efforts on his behalf, life aboard the swan ship Trumpeter had been a painful reminder that this dream was unlikely to come true, at least not as long as the elves ruled wildspace.

"What do you want from me?" Hectate asked finally.

"You travel with Vallus Leafbower," K'tide observed. "Since he is wizard to the grand admiral of the Imperial Fleet, he certainly will know the current location of the command base."

"Vallus Leafbower is not in the habit of confiding in me," Hectate said dryly.

"Nevertheless, he will take you to Lionheart, and you will lead us there."

"But how?" the bionoid hedged.

Again the antennae quirked, this time into a skeptical angle. "Surely the swan ship has logs, records of some sort. You could find them and relay the information to us."

Hectate considered. "But if your plan succeeds, the scro will have an almost endless supply of new troops."

The insectare permitted himself an evil smile. "Not at all," he assured Hectate. "I assure you, the thousands of orcs, hobgoblins, bugbears, goblins, and kobolds that now live on Armistice will die on Armistice. Once the destruction of Lionheart is accomplished, one of our training crews will kill the priests and witch doctors whose spells keep the primary Witchlight Marauder in time-stop hibernation. Let the monster forage for a year or two, and there will be no life left on Armistice."

"You see?" broke in Tekura, her pale eyes bright with fierce excitement. "With one hand we behead the Imperial Fleet. With the other we destroy a goblin world!"

The swan ship Trumpeter was badly damaged in battle, and far too many of its crew members were killed." K'tide leveled a glance at Wynlar. "Some of our troops were too caught up in the joy of battle to follow orders, it would seem. Since Lionheart is our primary goal and the swan ship merely our means of finding the elven base, I called off the attack before the elven vessel was destroyed. It landed on Armistice."

A small sigh of relief escaped Hectate. "Then Teldin Moore is unharmed?"

"For the present," the insectare said meaningfully, "but, as you can imagine, the Armistice orcs are unpredictable allies." K'tide shrugged. "The temptation of an elven ship may prove too great for them to resist."

"Unless…" Hectate prompted.

"If you will agree to return to the swan ship as a spy, we will send down a bionoid team to stall the orcs until we get the necessary information from you. Although the goblinkin are not known for being farsighted, perhaps we can persuade them to allow the swan ship time for repairs so that it might lead us to Lionheart."

"If it's Lionheart you're after, you have to keep the swan ship safe," Hectate countered.

K'tide inclined his head in a gesture of congratulations. "That's an astute observation, but not entirely correct. We easily could persuade our orc friends to lay waste the elven ship and bring us any information they find on board."

"But what makes you think you could get near Lionheart, even if you discover its location?"

"Aboard the swan ship, of course," K'tide said smoothly. "Whether the Trumpeter is manned by elves or bionoids in elven form, it will be admitted to the elven base and it will carry with it a secondary marauder."

Hectate was silent for a long moment. "I owe Teldin Moore pledge loyalty," he said slowly, counting on the insectare's knowledge of the bionoid battle code.

"I understand your dilemma." K'tide's thin lips stretched into a magnanimous smile. "All the more reason for you to return to the swan ship, for then you can see that Teldin Moore is safely removed from Lionheart once the marauder is released."