"A scorpion?" he asked.

"I've never actually seen a scorpion ship before, except in a scrap yard," said Aelfred, "but they used to be everywhere before the Unhuman War. The elves wiped them out-or we thought they had. Orcs used them. See the claws?"

"Yes." Paladine's blood, Teldin thought. The claws on the ship he was watching had moved. The pincers were opening and closing. The scorpion's deck was crowded with figures wearing black leather and holding polished steel.

"If they get hold of us with those things, we can hang it up," Aelfred said. "They'll tear the ship apart. A deathspider's arms have nothing on them."

Aelfred took the spyglass back and took another look. "All the gods be cursed," he said under his breath. "What did we wander into?"

The answer came to Teldin easily. It was perfectly simple. "They want the cloak," he said as he looked down over the railing, hands gripping the wood so hard that it hurt.

"How do you know?" Aelfred demanded, lowering the spyglass. Then he grimaced. "Of course. Everyone else does. Why not the orcs? Why in the Nine Hells not?" Aelfred turned and yelled right at Teldin's face. "But how did they know it was here?"

Without waiting for a response, he turned away and shouted to everyone on the ship. "Prepare to fire, on my command!" When he looked back at Teldin, there was no trace of the crooked smile that was his hallmark. "Old son," he said softly, "if you've got a good card in your deck, you'd better play your hand now. We've got one chance to get through their formation when they drop us to tactical speed. I don't know what they'll do with us if they catch us, but I have no intention of finding out. We've got to get down to Ironpiece." What can I do? Teldin thought in anguish. He looked around and saw a half-crouched crewman beside him raise a heavy crossbow and sight on a ship. "Let me take that," Teldin said, reaching for the weapon. The crossbowman looked surprised but gave up the device without a word.

Teldin raised the heavy weapon and cradled it in his arms, fitting his right hand over the wooden stock and trigger. He looked down the notched metal sights, took a deep breath, and blew the air out of his lungs. Now's the time, he thought, and willed the cloak to use its powers to help him.

On Teldin's first trip into wildspace, he had discovered quite by accident that the cloak could change his perception of time, sharpening his concentration in the process. He had then been able to aim and fire a crossbow with unbelievable accuracy, killing a pirate gunner with but one shot. Would he be able to do anything now?

The oncoming scorpion ship in his sights was only half the size of a small coin held at arm's length. What could he do to stop it? He couldn't even see any creatures on it! He stared at the ship until his eyes watered.

Nothing happened.

Biting down on his fury, Teldin closed his eyes and lowered his head. He then handed the crossbow back to the sailor. He felt Aelfred's eyes burning into him, waiting for some miracle to happen.

"Give me a few minutes," he mumbled in despair.

"We don't have a few minutes, Teldin," Aelfred said quietly. "If you're going to do something to pull us out of this, do it now."

"I don't know what to do!" Teldin screamed, balling his fists and turning to look at the orcish fleet, now closer and farther forward than before. The Probe was about to drive directly into them with only a minute remaining.

Aelfred stared at him, white-lipped, then turned away as if Teldin had vanished. "Aim on that scorpion with its back to us, the one just off to port there!" he shouted, pointing. "There's a catapult on its tail! When I tell you, get that and the ballista crew on its back!"

Helpless, Teldin looked over the side to forward. One of the long, thin viperships ahead of them suddenly produced what looked like a glimmering cloud from its stern. The cloud became a hundred tiny flecks of light, expanding as it came on toward the Probe.

"Jettison!" yelled someone from the forward castle. "It's dead on-"

Teldin had jerked his head back when he heard the word "jettison." Scarcely a second later, hundreds of rocks, spikes, bolts, and deadly debris slammed into the hammership in a spray. He heard glass shattering and screams from forward. Suddenly he thought of Gaye. Where was she? Terror took hold of him. He didn't know where to look for her.

The deck rocked under his feet at the same moment that the sound of snapping boards and screaming metal rang out. Teldin clutched at the forecastle deck railing. He saw board fragments spin wildly away from the bow.

"Helm down!" someone cried out in a hollow voice over the speaking tube. "We've been hit! The helm is down!"

"Damn it!" Aelfred bolted for the stairs, running crouched, taking the steps three at a time down to the main deck. Teldin ran after him, his mind reeling from the news. How could something have punched through the metal-plated hull that surrounded the lower bridge? It struck him then that Sylvie might be there, in the chart room next to the helm. He felt his chest tighten as he hurried after the captain. The helmsman on this watch would be Garioth, a bearded minor priest that Aelfred had hired two worlds back. Teldin ran from the foot of the stairs, across the main deck, to the forward companionway door, then through it and down the companionway to the stairs. At the bottom, he turned left, then forward to the open door into the lower bridge.

Red-splashed bodies lay on the floor among scattered charts and books. Part of the port hull was smashed through. Wild-space and stars beckoned through the hole. Aelfred had shoved aside a dead crewman whose green clothing was stained and glistening from a dozen awful wounds across his legs, chest, and face. Another crewman, a white-faced assistant navigator, staggered past Teldin, a foot-long spear of wood sticking out of his left side. An arm hung slack over the arm of the helm, framed in the doorway in which Teldin stood. He couldn't see the priest in the chair, but he saw Aelfred grimace and pull back from the helm, his hands dark with the helmsman's blood.

"Catapult got us. Let's get out of here," Aelfred said, heading for the door again. Teldin stood aside as Aelfred pulled the door shut. The captain then ran back to the main deck. Teldin started after him.

The companionway wall to his right was suddenly flung aside into Teldin's face. Shooting stars filled his vision. There was a roaring sound in his head. He came to lying on his back, numb and disoriented. Someone was screaming far away. He blinked, looking at the paneled wall that hung at an angle over him. For a few moments he gaped at the woodwork that was revealed at the top of the wall. This ship was solidly built, he thought stupidly.

His head began to clear. "Paladine save me," he whispered, trying to get up. He couldn't move because of the pressure on his legs. Looking down, he saw that the door to the galley, which had been to his right, had been blown off its hinges and now lay across his legs with the greater part of the door frame and wall around it still attached. He looked up and saw a gaping hole in the ceiling as well. Beyond the broken timber lay blackness and many stars.

The galley's gone, he thought, the port "eye" of the hammership. Completely gone, and it tore away pan of the port side when it left. Far away, men were shouting. Teldin tried to pull himself out from under the door and frame, but his legs were caught and the door had wedged itself into the starboard companionway wall and the door to the helmsman's quarters.

Shivering panic ran through his bones. "Help me!" Teldin called out. "Somebody!" He clawed at the companionway floor for the stairs, where Aelfred had gone. No one was coming.

The floor shook again as a cracking burst sounded from the hip's stern. "Fire away!" he heard Aelfred roar in the distance. "Fire for all you're worth!"