Estriss was watching him fixedly. What is wrong? he asked. Was there pain? Exhaustion?

"No," Teldin mumbled. "No, none of that."

The cold you felt the first time, was it repeated? More intense, or less?

"What? Oh, less. Much less."

How do you feel now? Are you more tired than you were before?

"A little. Not much."

The illithid might have had another question, but Aelfred's deep voice cut him off. "What's wrong, Teldin?"

"This is," Teldin snapped. "This whole thing. Putting on somebody else's face."

Estriss's tentacles gestured incomprehension. Why? Why is this wrong?

"It is." Teldin hesitated, searching for the right words to communicate what he felt so clearly inside. "It's a lie," he tried. "I… I was brought up to value the truth, both in myself and in others. The truth. It's what I've always worked toward. It's…" Suddenly he recalled a phrase from a book his grandfather had given him years ago. " 'The truth is a light,' " he quoted, " 'a light that banisheth the shadows which beset us.' Do you understand what I'm saying? This-" his gesture included himself, the cloak, the mirror "-this is a lie."

There was silence for more than a dozen heartbeats, then Aelfred asked gently, "You probably wouldn't feel so strongly if you hadn't chosen Dana's face, would you, now?"

Good question, part of Teldin's mind responded. Would I? Probably not. He shrugged.

The experiments may have disturbed you, Estriss said firmly, but they were important and valuable. Consider what we have learned. The cloak has powers related to shapeshifting, which are now under your control. The first time you used this power, you felt the drain quite strongly, but the second time you found it much easier and the drain was considerably less. Is that not so?

Teldin had to agree.

Then you are starting to control the tendency to give up your own energy, Estriss continued. Correct? And finally… He leaned forward urgently. Finally, you have gained a great advantage over those who may be pursuing you. Do you not see that? They may be searching for a man of six feet with short brown hair. Would they spare a second glance it a woman of five feet with blond hair to her waist?

Teldin nodded slowly. That was true, but… "What if they can track the cloak itself?" he asked.

If that is the case, there is nothing you can do, but are we certain that everyone whose hand is turned against you can detect the cloak itself? It seems to me much more likely that only some few have this ability, if any. Against the others, you now have a significant advantage.

"It's one I'm not comfortable with," Teldin muttered.

Perhaps that comes from lack of focus, Estriss replied. To his surprise, Teldin sensed more emotion in the illithid's mental voice than ever before. I heard what you said about valuing what is true. For myself, I would extend that. I value what is right. How best can we, both of us, serve the right, Teldin Moore? By allowing this cloak of yours to fall into the hands of the neogi? Or by doing whatever is in our power to prevent that? I know what my answer must be.

The illithid turned away suddenly and busied itself with returning the silver mirror to the desk drawer. It was almost as if Estriss felt embarrassed by his emotional outburst, Teldin realized with surprise.

Aelfred was watching him silently, understanding in the big man's eyes. Teldin bowed his head. "You're right," Teldin said quietly. "Thank you for reminding me of that."

Estriss shrugged off the thanks. It is only logical, he said. What is also logical is that you should practice this ability of the cloak every day, perhaps several times each day. The drain you felt was less the second time, but it was still there.

"I don't know what in all the hells you're talking about," Aelfred rumbled, "but just on principle I back the captain. Practice. It's important." He was silent for a moment, then went on, "One thing: I don't think it's a good idea to let the rest of the crew know about any of this. I think they've accepted you as some kind of warrior-mage-" he snorted with amusement at this "-so that won't worry them, but if they don't know if the person they're on watch with is who they think it is, or it's you practicing… It's going to do something to morale, if you get my drift."

"I understand."

Aelfred slapped Teldin comradely on the arm. "Well," he said, "if you don't have any more miracles to show me, I should get back on duty. We've got some of the new inductees on the rigging, and if I don't keep an eye on them, we're just as likely to end up back at Krynn as we are at Realmspace." He grimaced. "I know it's a touchy subject, but your diminutive friend, Horvath, has threatened to oversee repairs. Scary."

*****

Despite Aelfred's misgivings, the remainder of the journey through the flow was notable for its lack of mishaps. The "new inductees," as Aelfred called them-actually the surviving members of the deathspider's boarding party-seemed to integrate with the rest of the Probe's crew without any major difficulties. Over the first couple of days after the battle, Teldin could tell a "new inductee" a ship-length away. There was something about the way they walked and stood, as though they wished they could sink into the deck or the bulkhead and just fade from view-"trying to look invisible" was Aelfred's phrase for it. If anyone spoke to them-or even looked at them-they flinched, as though they expected to be beaten. Or worse, Teldin speculated, remembering his own experiences with neogi on Krynn.

Plus, they had a tendency to stand around, trying to look invisible, unless they had specific orders to do something. On the third day after the battle, Teldin saw a perfect example of this. One of the hammership's regular crewmen-a little man named Garay-was standing on the rail, cleaning the sheaves of a rigging block with a marlin spike. As he shifted position, the spike fell from his hand. It landed on the deck, barely a foot in front of a new inductee named Tregimesticus, who just stood there, looking at the spike near his feet.

"Well?" Garay called down from the rigging. "Aren't you going to pick the bloody thing up?"

Tregimesticus jumped as though he'd been whipped, snatched the spike off the deck, and scampered up the rigging to place it right into Garay's hand.

When the man was gone, Garay climbed down and came over to where Teldin was standing. "Dead from the neck up," the crewman grumbled. "I'll be flogged if any of them come around to right thinking."

Surprisingly, though, some of them did start to come around. Perhaps they were the ones who hadn't been aboard the death-spider as long-nobody felt comfortable asking, of course-or perhaps they were just the ones who naturally had stronger wills. In any case, of the ten "new inductees," four seemed slowly to be returning to the land of the living. They started talking to the other crew members-even when they hadn't been spoken to first-and even began to strike up friendships. The other six, including Tregimesticus, didn't seem so lucky or so adaptable. They followed orders with a speed that made the regular crew of the Probe look like sluggards, but they never showed anything that could be mistaken for initiative, and they kept the habit of trying to look invisible.

In any case, the voyage progressed uneventfully. For Teldin, it was a pleasurable time. There was something comforting about the strict routine aboard the Probe. Aelfred returned him to normal watch-standing, which meant that eight hours out of every day was spent scanning the flow for possible danger. The rest of the time he was free to do as he liked. He still shared the cabin with the three surviving gnomes-Horvath, Miggins, and Saliman, but found that his watch-standing schedule was opposed to theirs; when they were on watch, he was asleep, and vice versa.