"That is possible, sir, but not likely." Gomja looked over the side of the ship briefly, ""You could try it, but the ladder came off in the landing, and you'd have no way to get up the side of the ship and on deck again unless you used a rope."

Teldin made up his mind to try it anyway-closer to shore. "If we run into one more minor setback like antimagical water that interrupts spelljamming," he muttered, "the scro, the neogi, the elves, and everyone else can fight over the cloak and my smashed body at their leisure." He felt the dull throbbing of his headache behind his eyes. He'd have to try the cold compresses that Gaye had applied to him when he'd recovered in his cabin, surrounded by his scattered belongings. He couldn't for the life of him recall anything that had gone on for a few minutes before the crash; he remembered only that he was trying to get to his cabin to lie down. He'd asked Gaye, since she'd been in the cabin with him, but she'd shrugged and said only that she'd discuss it later.

In the distance, the gnomes made it to the shore and managed to pull part of their raft onto the beach. After some confusion, the gnomes worked their way up the bank to the closest of the many trees there, the rope trailing behind them into the water. It took them about twenty minutes to tie the rope down. When they finished, the huge giff braced himself on the deck and began pulling on the rope, hand over hand. The ship creaked and groaned, changing its heading to face the shore, and slowly moved toward land.

"Antimagical water," Teldin said, half to himself. "What else does this place have in store for us?"

He turned away to look out over the lake. Thus, Gomja, not Teldin, was the first to see the horse-sized, green-and-gray insect that broke through the tree branches behind the tired gnomes. One of the centaurlike creature's clawed hands grasped the rope that the gnomes had just finished tying off. With a curved saber in its other hand, the creature chopped through the rope with a single cut.

An instant later, dozens of the multilegged horrors crashed out of the woods, rushing down the slope at the startled gnomes with long bows drawn and curved swords raised.

*****

Bony hands seized the gilded frame of the mirror, lifting it swiftly out of its cradle.

"Accursed you will be!" shrieked an inhuman voice. "Accursed by all the powers of darkness forever you will be!" The bony hands raised the heavy mirror over the lich's skull and shook it, then-carefully-placed it back on its stand.

General Vorr drew in a breath of foul air, held it for a moment, then released it while inspecting a clawed fingernail. He had been listening to the lich rave for the last ten minutes, its odor of decay growing ever worse, and he was getting bored. The lich's initial news about the fate of the scorpion and its crew was bad enough; he couldn't afford to lose another ship without good cause. The possibility that Usso had been killed in the crash bothered him only in that it would be difficult at this date to replace her with someone equally capable as a spell-caster, even if she was a traitorous slut. Her information-gathering talents-among others-would be missed if she hadn't teleported out in time.

Vorr ignored the lich's ranting as he glanced around the small stone chamber again and stood near the open archway where he'd entered. The room was not large but was mildly impressive, if one liked ancient tombs. General Vorr didn't care for tombs, himself-unless they were for his enemies.

"Teldin Moore where is? Answer! Answer your master now, or to the burning planes of the Abyss and rotting shall you go!" The lich uttered another string of curses in a foreign language, then waved its arms in impotent fury.

Vorr swallowed a yawn.

The lich regarded the looking glass for a few moments, then turned away, muttering. "Gone he is! A power of the cloak this might be? An act by live meat this might be?" It shook its head, thinking furiously. "Not possible it is. Weak and simple his mind is, this live meat Teldin, and not for the tinkering with artifacts was it made." The lich paused as it turned, considering the objects that lay upon its rickety workbench. It looked up then and seemed to see the general for the first time.

"I take it you can't find Teldin Moore as you once said you could," Vorr said dryly.

The animated skeleton waved a bony hand in Vorr's direction as if dismissing him. "The gnomes' ship vanished it has, gone," it said. "Cloaked the cloak is-but what this could do? Wildspace this could not do. Metals thick as a lordserv-as an umber hulk this could not do. A crystal sphere this could not do." It pondered, staring at the faded paintings on a nearby wall with empty eye sockets.

The answer came easily for the general, but he resisted saying it aloud as even his answer didn't explain everything. Since Vorr knew he was himself completely antimagical at birth, a sort of antimagical field suggested itself as the cause of Teldin's disappearance. Could some antimagical device or creature have affected the gnomish ship? It would have to be a remarkable effect, given the size of the ship. The only other alternative was to assume that the gnomes' ship had disintegrated on impact, and Teldin was dead. This was reasonable enough, but the general knew enough not to jump to conclusions. What was the truth?

Vorr stared at the preoccupied lich and once again hated the thought that he needed to keep this reeking abomination alive-well, unharmed was a better word-for the time being. It was still of some value in leading them all to Teldin Moore- and the Spelljammer's cloak.

It dawned on the general that if the lich was no longer able to find Teldin, there was no reason to keep it… unharmed. The corners of his mouth crept upward. He would give it a little mote time to find Teldin-but only a little. He was interested in finding out what sort of being it really was before he broke it into vase-sized pieces.

"I later with you will speak," said the lich, turning away toward a dusty shelf of scrolls and papers. It began sorting through the papers and paid no further attention to Vorr.

The general nodded solemnly, as if the lich could still see him. His almost-smile was gone. "We will await your word," he said smoothly. Then he left, walking through the stone archway and down the broad corridor toward the ship docks. He passed rows of skeletal soldiers, his face registering his disgust as he looked down their crooked lines. The skeletons were nothing more than bones made mobile with a necromancer's spell, as mindless as the true dead could be. A force of scro could make short work of the pyramid's entire force, with the exception of the lich itself-but the general could dispose of that problem. The umber hulks would be tough to crack, too, but not impossible.

This thought kept him happy as he swiftly descended several ladders and stairs, eventually coming to the flying pyramid's cargo deck, an open area of ancient stonework with faded pictograms adorning the cracked walls. A spell on one far wall cast dim yellow light across the bay, illuminating a pile of stones, scraps of old wood, and a few scattered bones.

Vorr's squid ship was drifting in space only a few feet from one open cargo-bay door. A boarding rope tied around a thick pillar led out to the ship, and Vorr walked up to it and caught the rope without breaking stride. He swung hand over hand out through the cargo-bay doors, out across the abyss of space. If he fell, it was of no consequence, as he would only hit the pyramid ship's gravity plane and bounce. For a few moments, though, he imagined that if he let go, he'd fall forever toward the stars, never reaching them. It was a pleasant sensation.

"General aboard!" shouted an armored scro as Vorr appreached. Every scro on the deck snapped to attention and saluted, black-gloved fists up, the tarantula emblem facing out. Vorr swung over the squid ship's railing and dropped onto the forecastle deck with a heavy thump. It was pleasant to smell clean air again. "Ship away!" another scro called, casting off the boarding rope, and the stars turned around the squid ship as it pulled away from the flying pyramid.