When Aelfred had left, Teldin's smile faded. He knew that he had done a nearly disastrous thing in pulling the gnome from the helm. Now that it was all over, he couldn't believe he had done it. What if things hadn't turned out, as Aelfred had said? What had made him do it? He remembered thinking, for just a moment as he grabbed for Loomfinger, that he could do anything he wanted to with the cloak, and it would work if he tried hard enough. Had he been getting cocky, then, with his new powers? He knew he would have to use his intelligence from now on, not his ego.

For a few minutes, Teldin concentrated on the Perilous Halibut's climb away from the ground, and toward… what? He wasn't sure. Was there a wildspace-type vacuum in the middle of this sphere? Or was there air all the way through it? He had visited several crystal spheres in the months since he'd left Krynn, and no two of them were much alike at all. This one took the prize so far, though he recalled some tales that Aelfred told of a sphere in which a gigantic tree grew, with planets nestled in its branches. He shook his head. Less than a year ago, he would have laughed. Now he believed every word of it.

Suddenly, he thought to look down, using his helm-given view of the ship's outside. He'd been looking up and across for some time, seeing little other than blue sky, wispy clouds of every possible shape, and the huge sun overhead. The sky was still fairly clear. The view should be interesting.

So he looked down.

"Paladine," he breathed. "Oh, great Paladine."

Teldin had seen worlds from space before. He'd never forgotten his first view of Krynn from orbit: the beautiful blue seas, green and brown lands, white clouds. It was one world among a multitude, but it was his world. In his mind, it had become precious beyond the value of any treasure, and he loved it for all of its flaws and heartaches. It was just one little world, but he had felt a strange emotion upon seeing it as a whole for the first time.

But Teldin had never dreamed of seeing a world that had no end, a world that got bigger the farther one traveled from it. As he looked down, Teldin could see the outlines of four mighty rivers, two mountain ranges, and two vast blue seas that rivaled the largest lakes that Krynn could offer. The view went on and on. As he looked down, he became aware that he must be hundreds of miles up now. The view extended off to his left and right to a considerable distance, though it faded into blue sky, hidden by the thickness of the atmosphere.

He had to admit that the lake below him did, indeed, resemble a gigantic beast's footprint. He looked at the other lake he had seen-and saw that it, too, resembled a footprint. In fan, so did the next huge lake he saw, lying in the opposite direction on roughly a straight line with the previous two lakes. It must be true, Teldin thought, that these are footprints. Even as he thought it, part of his mind would not accept it. What in the name of all the gods in the universe could possibly be so huge as to carve out a sea with each step? He had thought he'd accepted the idea of Dyffed's "megafauna" before, but…

Teldin's outside vision became blurred for a moment. The ship passed through a mild sort of turbulence. He look wildly around the outside of the ship. The blue sky was gone, and in its place was a patchwork sky of blues, browns, greens, and white-the full view of Herdspace.

He slowly realized he must have left the atmosphere's upper boundary, which was fairly distinct here instead of being a gradual shift from air to vacuum as on a normal world. Why this place was different, he hadn't a clue. With the thick air gone except for the ships' own air envelope, he could now see perfectly in all directions. He could make out very few distinct features beyond a certain distance, as they were too far away, put he could see the outlines of continents that were larger than planets, and oceans that could swallow a dozen Krynns. Gone was the blackness of wildspace and the glorious constelations. Now, all he could see was sand-colored land and blue water, until it faded into the reaches of infinity.

The Perilous Halibut was moving much faster now, he noticed, at full wildspace speed. A thousand miles flashed by with each second of travel in wildspace, he recalled Sylvie saying, and with each second, his view of the land below subtly shifted, revealing new vistas that tugged at his already overstretched imagination. Now he could see a line of footprint lakes and valleys, an unmistakable path of stupendous craters that reached off into the distance toward… toward…

"Great gods of Krynn," Teldin breathed.

*****

Aelfred was busy elsewhere on the ship now, so Gaye decided it was safe to visit Teldin in the helm room. Sylvie wouldn't talk to her when the half-elf was on the helm, and Loomfinger didn't know how to explain things very well, but Teldin could tell her what it was like to be on the helm. She was dying to find out. What did it feel like? How could you see outside the ship, as she'd always heard could be done, and still see the inside of the ship? She'd had a million questions all bottled up inside her for years, and now she had someone who could tell her the answers at last.

Gaye padded softly to the helm room door. Get a grip on yourself, she thought. Don't get too close to him too soon; men never liked that. Just take your time and get him to talk, like he was just before the splashdown in the lake. He's got so much on his mind, but maybe there's room for a little more. She thought again of his blue eyes, so much like her father's, and she shivered. It wasn't cold in the corridor.

No one else was around the door, and she could hear nothing inside the room, so Teldin must be alone. She took a deep breath and knocked.

No answer came. She waited, knocked again, then tried the door handle. It was unlocked, so she peeked inside.

Teldin sat in the helm, facing the door. Maps hung on the walls around him in the small room, and low tables held stacks of papers and boob. A magical ceiling light spread soft radiance across the room, blending with the shining pink from Teldin's spelljamming cloak.

She smiled and opened her mouth to say hi, but she saw the expression on Teldin's face and stopped. He seemed to be stunned at something he was staring at over the door. Gaye carefully looked up but saw nothing except the door frame and another map on the wall.

She slid into the room and shut the door behind her. "Teldin?" she asked. "Are you okay?"

His jaw worked slightly. "Yes," he said in a whisper. He never looked at her.

"You just look strange," she said. "Is it because you're spell-jamming? Is the helm comfortable? You just have the funniest look on your face."

Teldin tried to swallow with a dry mouth. Still he gazed into the distance at some invisible scene. "It's… you can't see it from in here. You could if you were on deck." He tried to smile. "I found one of Dyffed's megafauna. Great gods of Krynn, you can't believe this thing."

"What? What's it look like? How big is it?" Gaye was instantly torn between rushing to the upper deck and staying with Teldin. She thought she would go nuts with indecision. "Talk to me!" she said.

"I can't be sure how big it is," Teldin said slowly. "It has a huge blue-and-red-striped body, with a long neck and a tail. I think only its legs are in the atmosphere; the rest of it rises out far beyond it. Maybe it's ten thousand miles high, I don't know. Wait-the hatches are opening on the main deck. Gnomes, some gnomes and Aelfred are coming out. Maybe they saw it through the portholes. There's Gomja, too. They're just looking at the creature. I've adjusted our course so that we can fly around it, and I've dropped our altitude a few thousand miles so that we can be on its level." His voice faded off, his vision still riveted on the sight.