"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.
Teldin shook his head. There was something emotionally disturbing about what Estriss was saying. "Is it meant to do that?" he asked.
I am certain it is not, Estriss told him. Suddenly, as though realizing for the first time where they were, the illithid glanced around. Some things are best spoken of in private, he said. May we continue this in my cabin?
*****
If Aelfred's cabin was devoid of personality, the mind flayer's cabin was almost overfull. Nearly every square inch of the large cabin's bulkheads was covered with some form of artwork: paintings, tapestries, and art forms that Teldin had never seen before. For example, in pride of place on the aft wall was a large, circular ring of metal more than two feet in diameter. Crisscrossing the ring were fine wires of different colors of metal. Where the wires crossed near the middle of the ring, they twisted and knotted around each other, building up into an intricate interweaving of metal threads. The pattern seemed somehow right on the edge between chaos and order. When Teldin concentrated on the arrangement, the whole thing seemed totally random, but when he didn't concentrate, just let his mind drift and experience the design without analyzing it, he couldn't avoid the feeling that there was some organization, some higher order of pattern, to the wires… but one that was just beyond his mind's ability to perceive.
The paintings and tapestries were more familiar forms of art, but there was something unusual about them, too. In those that depicted scenery or figures, there seemed to be missing detail in certain places-surprising, since overall the works were incredibly intricate. Even the tapestries made up of abstract geometric patterns didn't look right. Otherwise regularly repeating geometric motifs seemed to be broken up here and there by featureless areas of dark red. For some reason, Teldin found those pieces mildly frustrating.
He turned to Estriss, who'd been watching his inspection with obvious interest. "Is this illithid art?" he asked.
It is. How do you find it?
Teldin paused. He suddenly felt a little edgy. How much did he know about Estriss, after all? In the creature's hours of privacy in his cabin, the mind flayer might have been creating these paintings, these tapestries. Teldin didn't want to offend his friend. "Very interesting," he said enthusiastically. "I like them."
Do they convey emotions to you? Estriss asked. He pointed to one tapestry, an intricate tessellation of five-pointed stars, broken here and there by large regions of featureless red. This one, for example. What emotion does it portray to you?
Teldin looked closer at the tapestry. The weaving was incredibly intricate, and it was fascinating the way the stars-each subtly different in shape-interlocked so perfectly, but… "No real emotion," he had to admit.
Estriss looked disappointed. Truly? It is one of the most emotionally evocative works I have ever found. Estriss fixed Teldin with his white eyes. Are you sure? No sense of pride, of exultation?
"None."
The illithid gave a whistling sigh. There seem to be some things that simply cannot cross racial boundaries, he mused. Of course, much of it may be due to differences in our optical apparatuses. He reached out a red-tinged finger and touched one of the featureless patches of deep red on the tapestry. Do you see the continuation of the pattern here?
Teldin looked closer, but the region remained undifferentiated red. "No," he said. "What do you mean?"
To my eyes, the illithid explained, the pattern is as clear there as it is here. He pointed to a region where the stars were strongly contrasting blues and greens.
"How is that possible?"
My eyes are adapted to see farther into the infrared than are humans', Estriss explained. When I see a rainbow, I see two bands of color beyond red, colors that humans cannot see.
Teldin felt a sense of wonder growing within him. "What do they look like, these colors?" he asked.
The illithid's tentacles writhed with amusement. First describe to me what green looks like, he suggested.
Teldin was taken aback. "What? Well, it looks…" His voice trailed off, and he had to smile. "It looks green" he finished. "All right, it was a dumb question."
Estriss gave one of his shattered-spine shrugs. We drift far from the point, he remarked. We were speaking of the cloak.
A little self-consciously, Teldin touched the garment, still a small band around the back of his neck. "You say it drains energy from me," he said. "How?"
There is no way for me to be sure, Estriss admitted. Most enchanted items draw their energy directly from elsewhere- from the Positive or Negative Material Planes, for example- much as do spells.
"I thought wizards were the power source for their own spells," Teldin put in.
Estriss shook his head. Not possible, he said flatly. Do you know how much energy is involved in even the simplest of spells? If that power were drawn directly from the caster, it would leave him exhausted at the very least, but more likely a lifeless husk. No, the energy comes from elsewhere. Now, with enchanted objects-he moved smoothly back to his original point- the energy is focused by the item and directed so as to have on effect in the physical world. It is like-be struggled for an analogy-like when you carry a lantern. The energy of the lantern's light is produced and focused by the lantern it-self, though it is you who directs that energy by moving the lantern. Do you understand?
"I think so," Teldin said slowly. "The cloak is different?"
The cloak is different, Estriss confirmed. When you used magic to defend yourself from your attacker, the power was channeled through you, through your body. It was as if the cloak poured power into your body, then you released that power in the manner and direction that you willed. Was that not how it felt?