For me as well, Estriss put in. It seems to me that the best way to keep the neogi's prize from them is to learn how to use it, to control its power. The creature's featureless white eyes settled on Teldin. But not now, the illithid finished. You are tired. Perhaps after sleep we can continue this.

Teldin felt exhaustion wash over him like a wave. Despite his attempts to keep them open, his eyes began to hood.

"Use my cabin," Aelfred told him. "It's certain I'm not going to get the chance for a good while."

"Thanks," Teldin said weakly. He was tired. Maybe it was something the illithid had done-he remembered an attacker collapsing under the mind flayer's mental attack-or maybe it was something to do with the cloak. Or maybe it was something less mysterious: the stress, fear, and exertion of the day finally getting to him. In any case, he was only barely aware of Aelfred helping him across the hallway to the first mate's cabin, and sleep swallowed him the instant he lay on the bed.

Consciousness returned slowly. For an immeasurable time, Teldin luxuriated in a relaxed state of half-sleep, half-wakefulness. Thoughts that were almost dreams drifted through his mind. Real events of the past weeks combined with memories of his childhood. People and places mixed and matched in totally illogical combinations. Grandfather and Aelfred collaborated on teaching Teldin to use a short sword, while Estriss and Dana-now inexplicably wearing Teldin's cloak-stood on the forecastle, watching. Throughout, the only emotion he felt was mild puzzlement, not the deep pain that by rights should have accompanied some of the images.

As he drifted closer and closer to full consciousness, he found that he could manipulate some of the thoughts, some of the images. For the first time, he could review events at least somewhat objectively. Lying there, he went over the decisions he'd made, the points where he could have turned the course of events to a different path. There were, he realized, all too few of them. His actions had been more constrained than he'd perceived. At each branch point, he'd really had only one option that made complete sense, and-he saw now-if he'd strayed from the most logical path, the outcome would almost certainly have been worse than it was now. The vast majority of other paths ended with him dead, and with the cloak in the hands of the neogi.

So it was with a grim sense of relief-of exoneration, even of redemption-that he finally returned to full consciousness. The results of his actions still weighed heavily on him-and he knew they always would-but at least now he felt better prepared to bear the burden he'd been given.

He opened his eyes and squinted in the flow-light that poured in through the porthole. For a moment he didn't remember exactly where he was, then memory returned fully. He was in Aelfred's cabin.

He swung himself off the narrow bunk and looked around with interest. He'd expected the first mate's cabin to somehow match the big man's personality and background. There would be mementos mounted on the bulkheads, possibly an old, notched broadsword that he'd taken from a worthy foe or the pennant of a unit he'd fought with. There would be charts and books piled everywhere. It would be a comfortable refuge for a man who needed escape from his responsibilities.

If Teldin had ever considered himself an infallible judge of character, Aelfred's cabin would have destroyed that notion for good. The small cabin was spartan, almost bare. There were no trophies on the bulkheads, no books-in fact, nothing at all that gave it any sense of the owner's personality. A traveling chest-presumably containing Aelfred's personal effects-was at the foot of the narrow wooden bunk. A small desk was bolted to the bulkhead beside the door, and a padded bench was mounted below the porthole. The only thing that matched Teldin's expectations was the chart: there was a star chart on the desk, held in place by small metal clips.

In retrospect, Teldin realized that this was the kind of cabin he should have expected all along. How much time did Aelfred actually spend in his cabin? Virtually none, it seemed. The warrior was always on the bridge or wandering about the ship. To a man like that, a cabin would be a place to sleep, nothing more. Why would he bother to decorate it, or even give it the stamp of his own personality, when he'd have virtually no time to see it?

Teldin smiled to himself. Aelfred was still something of an enigma in some ways, but Teldin was slowly coming to understand the burly warrior better.

He stretched luxuriously. Well, he thought, it's time I was out and about. What time was it, anyway? That was something about shipboard life he'd never quite gotten used to. Whether the ship was in wildspace or in the flow, there was no way to tell what the time was just by looking. You had to depend on the ship's bell, and even then it wasn't obvious what watch it was.

He listened for a moment. The ship was fairly quiet, no loud noises on deck. That didn't mean much, of course. After the battle with the neogi, Aelfred would probably choose to run the ship with as few people on watch as possible and give the others a chance to sleep.

Where was Aelfred, anyway?

Teldin opened the cabin door. A crew member was passing but stopped when she saw Teldin standing in the doorway. She edged back a little, as if to give him plenty of room.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Two bells, sir."

Teldin raised an eyebrow. "Sir," was it? The level of respect had grown even more than he'd thought. He had to admit it was pleasant, in a way, but it was based on a misinterpretation. Oh, well, he thought, there wasn't much he could do about it now.

Two bells. That meant he'd been asleep for about eight solid hours. He stretched again, enjoying the tension in his well-rested muscles. He gestured with his thumb forward toward the bridge. "Who has forenoon watch on the bridge?" he asked.

The woman looked at him strangely. "It's two bells in the night watch, sir," she told him.

Absently he thanked her, and she went about her business. Night watch meant he'd been asleep for about twenty-four hours. No wonder he felt so fully rested.

"Where's Aelfred Silverhorn?" he suddenly thought to call after the woman, but she'd already vanished down the companionway to the cargo deck. He shrugged. Odds were, the first mate was on the bridge. He started forward.

Then a noise from across the corridor-from the officers' saloon-stopped him. It was a snorting rumble of some kind. At first he couldn't identify it, then a broad grin spread across his face. Quietly he crossed to the saloon door and opened it.

He'd found Aelfred. The first mate was sprawled bonelessly in a chair, booted feet on the table. His arms dangled limply on both sides of the chair, so his fingers brushed the deck. His mouth hung loosely open and gave vent to the rumbling snore Teldin had heard. Gently, Teldin shut the door again. Let the man sleep, he thought, he needs it.

Words formed in Teldin's mind. So you rejoin the land of the wakeful.

There's one problem with mental communication, Teldin thought: you can't tell what direction it's coming from. He looked all around for Estriss.

The illithid approached from the aft end of the corridor. Do you feel better? the creature continued.

"Much better," Teldin replied. "I feel like I've come back to life."

Estriss nodded. You were drained. Not simply tired, but drained. I could sense the difference.

"What does that mean?"

I believe it means that the cloak draws some of its energy from you, the illithid explained. The vast majority of enchanted items do not work in that way. They draw all of the energy they need from elsewhere, and the will of the user is just a trigger, not a power source as well.