"Or kill me," Teldin added quietly.

Or kill you.

"What do I do? Never use the cloak? I don't bow how I used it this time."

No, the illithid said sharply. Deciding never to use the cloak is useless. The power was triggered accidentally this time. You did not consciously intend to wield it. It seems likely, perhaps inevitable, that you will again trigger it by accident.

"But, then, what do I do?" Teldin asked desperately. "I can't take the cloak off, and if I don't take it off, eventually it's going to kill me, isn't that what you're saying?" He spat one of Aelfred's mercenary oaths. "The only question is, what will kill me first, the cloak or the neogi?"

There is another way, Estriss cut him off firmly. I said that the draining effect is simply because you are unfamiliar with controlling the cloak. If you were to become familiar, however…

Teldin was silent for several heartbeats, then, "How?" he asked forcefully. "It's never done anything when I've wanted it to, only when it's wanted." He shivered. For a moment, he could almost believe that the cloak on his back was some kind of intelligence-maybe a malign one, considering what had been happening to him lately-that was playing with him like a cat plays with a mouse… before killing it.

Estriss shook his head so violently that his facial tentacles flailed. It is an easy trap to fall into, to ascribe intelligence to the cloak, he said firmly, but I urge you not to fall into it. The cloak has no sentience-none-but… The creature's eyes hooded under double eyelids. But you are right, in a way. The problem lies in triggering the cloak.

"How do you normally trigger a magic item?"

It varies widely, the illithid said. For some, it is a word that must be spoken aloud, or repeated mentally. For others, it is sufficient to visualize the desired outcome. For others still, it is simply an act of will, as when you move your arm. The creature paused. From my research on the Juna, he continued at length, it seems there are other ways. A word of command is, after all, merely a number of symbols-in this case, spoken syllables-strung together in a sequence. There are other kinds of symbols as well. My research implies that some items may be triggered by visualizing a sequence of geometrical forms or relationships. Or even, perhaps, a sequence of emotions. Do you understand?

"Only vaguely," Teldin admitted, "but then I don't really understand how a word can trigger something either." He hesitated. "How does this matter?"

What did you feel, Teldin? Estriss asked intensely. What did you feel, what did you think, when you fought the man on the forecastle? Try to recall.

"I felt fear," Teldin replied instantly. "I thought… I thought I was going to die."

Be more precise.

"I don't know."

I saw your movements, as I tried to reach you. You reached out with your hand, toward your attacker. Why? What were you thinking? What, exactly?

Teldin tried to force his mind back to that moment, but it was difficult. The memory was blurred, indistinct. Yes, the illithid was right. He had reached out. Why? To save himself. To block the swing of that deadly sword…. "To stop him."

How?

"I don't know," Teldin said, "it was just a reflex. It wouldn't have worked."

But you did stop him, Estriss reminded him. Perhaps it was your emotion the cloak responded to, your desire to stop the man, in any way possible. Perhaps it was that desire, that unintentional act of will… if that makes any sense. The illithid thought for a moment. What did you feel when the power was released?

"Heat," Teldin responded, "and light. The cloak burst into light-"

There was no light that I saw, Estriss interrupted.

Teldin frowned. "That's what I felt, though, like the sun at my back, but much more so. The light and heat spread through my body."

You cried out.

"It hurt… but it didn't." Teldin paused, trying to make sense of the memory. "I don't know," he said eventually. "It hurt so much it felt good. Or it felt so good it hurt. I can't really remember which, and I can't be sure I even knew at the time."

Estriss nodded. I wish you to try an experiment, he said. Try to recreate those feelings. I want you to imagine them. Imagine them so strongly that you can feel them again. And-he pointed at the cabin door-I want you to protect yourself from that door.

Teldin gaped. "What?"

The cloak came to your defense once, the illithid said. It saved your life. What good is a defense if you cannot use it at will? I believe you must learn to control the cloak's power, and there is only one way to learn. To experiment. To try. Try for me, he urged. The door is a creature that wishes to kill you, and you must protect yourself. Do it.

Teldin smiled; the illithid's words were so reminiscent of Aelfred's sword lesson. Nevertheless, he had to admit to himself the idea was intriguing, attractive in a grim kind of way. He'd seen Vallus wield magic, to save his own life and the lives of his colleagues, and he'd assumed that such power would forever be beyond his grasp. But here was Estriss, telling him that he may be able to do something similar.

He couldn't ignore the illithid's words about the dangers of the cloak. If Estriss was right, if the only way to prevent the cloak from someday killing him was to become practiced in its use, then he had to try.

He nodded and closed his eyes. Relive the experience, he told himself. I'm back there, I have to do something or I'm dead. He remembered the sense of heat on his back, concentrated on it, tried to feel it once again. Heat and light flaring around his shoulders, pouring into his body, burning through his bones like lightning. The sense of overwhelming energy, licking through him, forcing its way out. Pain and pleasure, pleasure and pain. Live it, he told himself. He tried to recreate the sense of power welling up inside him, welling up so strongly it had to go somewhere or he'd explode. He shot a hand out toward the door….

Nothing.

The intensity of the memory faded. He let it go-not without a twinge of sadness-let his concentration slip away. He opened his eyes. His chest burned from holding his breath, and when he wiped his forehead his fingers came away sweat-dampened. "I can't," he said dully.

Estriss nodded. Emotion is a great part of it, I think, he mused. You feared for your life, you wished to do anything to stop your attacker, and the cloak responded to that. The creature paused. If we were to carry the experiment to its logical conclusion, I suppose I should try to attack you. His tentacles gestured amusement. But I fear the experiment might succeed too well.

There is another possibility I would like you to try, the illithid went on, if you are willing.

Teldin took a deep breath to ease the tension in his chest and nodded. "Nothing too drastic," he suggested, less drastic than the last experiment, Estriss assured him. "What is it?"

Let me tell you something mote of my research into the Juna, Estriss suggested.

Teldin looked around for somewhere to sit. There was no mattress on the cabin's bunk, but at least it was flat, so he settled himself on the edge.

The legends and myths that deal with the Juna all seem to share one motif, the illithid went on. In some it is central, in others merely touched on, but it does seem to be common. He paused.

"Go on," Teldin prompted dutifully. "What is it?"

Shapeshifting, Estriss said. The ability to change form, to take on different appearances. Initially I believed that this was symbolic, merely a representation of the ability to adapt to different situations, but as I delved further, I concluded that tie stories were at least partially naturalistic. I believe that the Juna were experts at shapeshifting magic. He hesitated. Will you trust me in this conclusion, or should I explain my evidence?