"I trust you," Teldin answered hastily.

Estriss nodded. If the cloak was created by the Juna, as I suspect, then it may incorporate some form of shapeshifting enchantment. Will you try this for me?

This is getting just too strange, Teldin found himself thinking, but he couldn't say that to the illithid. After all, with what he'd seen over the past couple of days, how could he refuse to consider something just because it sounded bizarre? "How do you mean?" he asked.

Simply put, I want you to try to assume the form of mother. Aelfred Silverhorn, for example.

"How?"

The illithid's mental voice took on a calming, almost fatherly, tone. I realize it sounds outlandish, Estriss said. Or perhaps 'outlandish' is not a strong enough word. Believe me when I say I would not even suggest this if there were not some evidence to support my ideas. He paused. I understand that you feel somewhat embarrassed by this, is that not so?

Teldin had to nod. He didn't quite know why-after all, he and the illithid were the only people in the room-but he did feel embarrassed, even humiliated.

I find it difficult to understand human emotions, Estriss went on. Would it lessen your embarrassment if I assured you that I am not doing this to put you in a position of dishonor?

Teldin couldn't help but smile. The illithid seemed so earnest, so guileless. "Tell me what to do," he suggested.

I can only guess at this, so you must bear with me, Estriss said. First, please close your eyes and build up, in your mind, a detailed picture of Aelfred Silverhorn.

Teldin did as he was instructed. With his eyes closed, he pictured Aelfred's face hanging in space before him. Slowly he let it build in detail: curly blond hair, dose-cropped to the head; bone-white scar above the right eyebrow; lines in his weather-tanned skin, framing steady eyes; lopsided grin.

Do you have it? Estriss asked.

Teldin answered without opening his eyes. "Yes."

Take the next step. Imagine your own face next to Aelfred's. Again, make it as detailed as you con.

Teldin was a little surprised at how much more difficult it was to build up a picture of himself. Surely he should be more familiar with his own face, the one he wore every day? But no, he realized after a moment, that wasn't necessarily the case. When did he see his own face? In the mirror when he shaved each day, and that was about it.

Again he let the picture build in detail: lean face, with finely chiseled cheekbones; tanned skin, even darker than Aelfred's; short hair of sun-bleached brown; network of crow's-feet bracketing bright, cornflower-blue eyes.

Now move your picture of Aelfred's face over that of yours, Estriss instructed. Aelfred's face must totally cover yours. Where the two faces are superimposed, both faces still exist, but only Aelfred's is visible. Do you understand?

In fear that speaking might somehow break his concentration, Teldin nodded wordlessly. In his mind's eye, Aelfred's face moved until it overlaid his own. At first he could see both sets of features in some kind of strange superimposition. Blue and gray eyes stared out of the same sockets; hair that was both brown and blond covered the head. Then, slowly, his own features began to fade from view.

Power! He felt it, a warm tingling in his shoulders, spreading through to his chest. It was a lot more subtle than what he'd felt on the foredeck. In fact, was it really there at all? Or was it just wishful thinking on his part? After what the illithid had told him, he wanted to be able to summon the power of the cloak….

The mental pictures started to fade. With an effort of will, Teldin ignored his questions and the hint of power-if that was what it was-and pushed both from his mind. All that mattered at the moment were the faces he visualized.

In his mental picture, his own features finally vanished. Only Aelfred's remained.

He heard a sharp, hissing intake of breath from Estriss. Slowly he opened his eyes.

The mind flayer was looking at him intently. The illithid's facial tentacles were still. In fact, the creature was as motionless as a statue.

"Did it work?" Teldin asked.

Estriss was silent for a moment, then asked, What do you feel? His mental tone was emotionless, noncommittal.

The illithid's intense scrutiny was making Teldin uneasy. He shifted on the edge of the bunk. "I think I felt something," he said slowly, "but I'm not sure. It could have been my imagination."

How do you feel now? Estriss pressed. Warm? Cold?

Teldin paused. Now that the mind flayer mentioned it, he did feel as if the temperature in the cabin had dropped a couple of degrees. Plus, he felt the thin, somehow edgy feeling he always associated with not enough sleep or not enough to eat. "Slightly cool," he replied at last. "Estriss, did it work?"

Estriss didn't answer immediately, and that was answer enough. Teldin raised a hand to his face, ran his fingers over his nose and cheek….

And snatched his hand away with a stifled cry. It wasn't his face that he'd touched. The nose was broader, tie cheekbones less pronounced. Even the texture of the skin was different. The sensations from his fingers were as if he'd reached out and touched someone else's face, yet the nerves of his face felt his exploring fingers as if nothing at all were amiss. The combination of the prosaic with the alien was shocking-terrifying at some deep level of his being. He sprang to his feet and looked around the cabin for something he could use for a mirror.

Estriss had anticipated his need. The illithid had removed a thin disk of finely polished silver metal from a drawer in the desk and now handed it to Teldin without a word.

Teldin held the mirror at chest level for a few heartbeats. He knew what he was going to see; there would be no surprise. How would it feel to see someone else's face in place of his? How would he react? He took a deep breath and raised the minor.

The biggest shock was that there was no real shock. The face in the polished silver was Aelfred's, there was no doubt about that, but emotionally it had little real impact. It was as if Aelfred was standing beside him and Teldin was holding the mirror at such an angle that it reflected the other man's face. He raised his hand to his cheek again.

That's when the shock struck him, almost powerfully enough to make him drop the mirror. It was the juxtaposition of the familiar and the bizarre again. The muscles of his arm and hand told him that he was raising his hand to his own face. The mirror told him he was reaching for Aelfred's face. The reassuring falsehood that the face in the mirror somehow wasn't associated with his body was shattered. He clenched his jaw to stop himself from whimpering with atavistic dread. In the mirror, Aelfred's face mimicked the movement.

A touch on his shoulder made him jump. Estriss's hand squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. With an effort, Teldin brought his jumbled emotions a little more under control. "I'm all right," he said quietly. Surprisingly, his voice sounded steady in his own ears. He examined the face in the mirror again, this time trying to be more critical and less emotional in his reactions.

There was something wrong with the image, he realized at once-apart from the total wrongness of his wearing the wrong face, of course. The individual features seemed correct, almost perfectly matching his memory of Aelfred, but there was something else, and it took him several moments to recognize it. The face was Aelfred's, but the neck and shoulders beneath it were Teldin's. Aelfred's head was large-in keeping with the rest of his body-and his neck was thick and muscular. In the mirror, the warrior's big head sat atop Teldin's relatively slender neck.