Where Is Everyone?
Apparently one of the shifter-sniffer hounds survived the attack. Sure it did. Let's name it "Anax". Kethos, if he was Kethos, was going to take care of it. I told him I'd run it over to Aretia for a quick fix.
Quinn talked to Deirdre, Fiona and Breann and suggested Fiona go around clearing everyone. She asked why Quinn was sure she was herself. Quinn wasn't, completely, but if Osric had taken her out, he had won. Amber was toast. She laughed and cleared everyon. It was not a technique Quinn could duplicate: she just blew through mental defenses and made momentary deep psychic contact, searching for Osricness.
Eventually Fiona developed a migraine from using powers while out of phase with the changed Pattern. We covered her while she walked it behind Ander, Kethos and Breann. Apparently following a three-man pattern-wake makes walking it a lark. She did seem to enjoy being the center of attention and hope. Breann and Kethos were to try to repeat their success in freeing Benedict by going hunting for Bleys; Ander preceeded them as primary Wake-maker because his little sister conned him into it. Nobody tried to assassinate anyone. A lot of us were a bit disappointed. We wanted blood. If Osric had any sense, he was backing off on Amber and making a play for Rebma or Tir-na Nog'th.
Breann and Kethos reached the center and vanished.
Breann, wishing herself to Bleys' locale, appeared in a filthy, SMELLY sitting room. Once opulent, it had evidently been occupied, but lacking maid service for a long, long time. Long enough for the short, green clad, red haired, female corpse sitting in the chair opposite Breann to rot and nearly mummify. She heard the clink of glass on glass in the next room as Kethos appeared and surveyed the room.
"Ever been here before?"
"Sure," Kethos growled, "the corpse's name is Sara, there's a good book selection -- of course not." Breann peeked into the next room.
The bedroom was just as filthy, featuring a barred window and Prince Bleys sitting on the bed, wearing soiled finery and pouring liquor into a brandy snifter. She tapped on the door jamb. Bleys spit out a mouthful of booze, coughed and took another drink.
"Are you occupied?"
"Crawl up on me, honey, and I'll occupy you." (leer)
"No thanks. I saw what happened to the girl out he--" Breann barely dodged Bleys' glass, which shattered explosively on the door jamb.
She pulled a glass sliver out of her cheek. "Uncle--"
"I'm not in the mood now."
"Didn't you feel something? A disturbance in the force?"
Breann then rejoined Kethos in the sitting room and made herself a drink.
Bleys walked in. "'Disturbance in the force'?-- Hello, who are you?" he asked, noticing Kethos.
Breann answered, "Finndo's son."
Bleys thought about it, or at least tried to. "So what did you do to get thrown in here?"
"I see now that it was a big mistake!"
Bleys finally recognised her. "Breann! You've grown up."
Tentatively convinced she was not a hallucination, Bleys questioned her about Amber. He was surprised that Brand was not in charge. Brand had captured him when he took a header off Kolvir, and Fiona when she came looking for Bleys. He identified the corpse as Fiona, dead a couple of months. He knew nothing of the Brand-Osric Axis.
Breann and Kethos examined their escape options. Trumps didn't work, of course. Kethos tried to break the bars with his hissing, smoking sword, while Breann walked in circles trying to shift the bars weaker and weaker. Bleys told her he had tried that a thousand times, it was useless, a waste of time...
The bar broke.
(Breann had had a thought: the Pattern had changed, the prison had likely been made using the old Pattern and HER Pattern was up-to-date.)
Bleys shut up, totally shocked.
Outside the second-storey window was a snowy courtyard. Breann did more circling and shifted the snow away while Kethos broke out the glass. Kethos and Breann jumped out. Bleys followed carrying three bottles. Breann shifted for horses outside the ruined gates, her superhorse and two average ones, but Kethos had shifted in his own, very impressive, steed. They rode.
Ander told the Pattern to take him to Finndo. He appeared behind him, high up on the battlements of the most impressive fortress he had ever seen. Finndo turned and drew, very fast, stopped when he saw his nephew.
"Ander."
"Sorry to surprise you, Uncle. What exploded?" he asked waving at the desolation outside the fortress. It looked like a nuclear bomb had gone off, with the undamaged fort at ground zero.
"We did. The castle fared much better than the town when whatever happened yesterday happened."
Ander explained about the disappearances of Rebma and Tir-na Nog'th. Finndo said his bordering shadows were different than those pre-cataclysm. They were also farther out from Amber than before. Ander sounded him out about trying to change things back, make a new binding Pattern as Dworkin had. Finndo was against it. He said he was amazed that mad Dworkin had succeeded in the first place.
Ander proposed an alliance between Amber (Deirdre) and Finndo's realm. Finndo liked the idea. He said he thought it likely that the "primal" Pattern had been destroyed on purpose, to divide and weaken Brand's and Osric's opponents, both directly and with collateral damage-- to Amber's fleets and his town. Ander was to arrange a meeting at a midpoint between their realms.
Ander asked permission to walk Finndo's Pattern. Finndo granted it as a sign of good faith and a shortcut home. They went down after lunch and Ander assayed the Forge. A Pattern of steel pounded into rock, it tested Ander with fire and breaking blows. It was much, much more difficult that Amber's Pattern but Ander (Endurance Boy) made it. Barely. He wished himself to his bed in Amber and collapsed.
Quinn borrowed a Trump and attempted to contact Breann every ten minutes. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Eventually there was a very faint contact. He pushed it and Breann came fully out of the Trumpless zone to get a Headache a la Quinn.
Breann filled him in. When she reached the part about the Dead Auntie, Quinn paled, but did manage to maintain control of his bladder. He rapidly revieved events and concluded that Dead Fiona was a fake.
Quinn had Breann bring Bleys into the contact and asked Bleys if he had managed to scan Dead Fiona: no. He told Bleys some of his reasons for believing in Live Fiona: mental contacts, no hidden Compulsions when Q walked the Pattern, Fiona walking it without shifting form. Quinn added that Brand and Osric were sadists, blinding Benedict, gutting an eight-year old, etc. Imprisoning Bleys with a fake dying Fiona was in character for them. Bleys wanted to see Live Fiona even if he ended up in a cell. Quinn told Deirdre, who arranged an 'honor guard', and the rescue party Trumped to Amber.
Where is everyone?
Where Is Everyone?
Breann cautiously informed Gerard that Bleys was in Castle Amber, under guard. Then she backed out, unnecessarily wary of large, heavy, fast-moving objects.
Quinn found Julian swimming in the Informal Garden pond and told him of Bleys' rescue and return, stressing that they now knew that Bleys was not working with Brand and Osric. He asked whether Osric could have arranged or influenced the conflict between Eric and Corwin that had had such convenient, for Osric, results. Julian was unsure, but felt that such meddling did not excuse Bleys' ravaging of Arden; Quinn agreed.
Quinn joined Kethos for lunch and quizzed him about the anti-shapeshifting qualities of Finndo's realm. He wanted a successful template to copy, one without unpleasant side-effects. Quinn also asked after the wounded shifterhound, calling it "Anax". Kethos kidded Quinn about paranoia. Quinn argued that, if anything, he was not paranoid enough.
Ander told Breann he was leaving on an errand with the rest of the Anderites. (GM Note: the first use of this phrase, hereafter a mainstay.) He arranged for her to get a message to his friend Victor, currently exploring Amber City. He was showing Earth off to them and wanted to get Victor home as well. Breann told Ander to watch his back around Katherine. They exchanged awkward new-sib hugs.
Deirdre ordered Breann along on a diplomatic mission to meet with Finndo. Breann failed to talk her out of it.
Quinn and Kethos checked on the hound. Quinn bit the bullet and did a thourough mind probe with Kethos standing guard. Not Anax. Quinn was very surprised. A servant found them and conveyed a summons to see the Regent.
Deirdre briefed Quinn on Ander's expedition to the Forge and her mission to seal an alliance at a place equidistant from the two realms. Was Quinn going any where? Off to Ygg to to some scanning from a, presumably, central point. As it happened, that was where Deirdre and Finndo were to meet. Quinn took the hint and offered to manage to transport.
Dinner was a disaster. Bleys offended nearly everyone, even Breann who was to only one really willing to talk to him. Gerard, Julian, Breann and Fiona left before Deirdre had Bleys escorted to his room. Quinn apologized to those remaining for helping to bring Bleys in.
Breann went to Bleys' room and exchanged insults and guilt-mongering. Breann pledged to make his life a living hell. Bleys won the argument by comfortably passing out. Breann retaliated by dressing him in a jester costume and sewing him into it.
The Regent's party (Deirdre, Breann, Quinn, Cpt. Morgan and several guardsmen) set out, teleported by Quinn in small groups.
Finndo was expected in a day or so. Deirdre tried to Trump him but he was too far away without a Forge initiate to help. Quinn tried to help her push the contact and automatically started to draw on the Jewel for just a second--OWWWCH! Quinn fell to his knees. Deirdre caught the echo and dropped the smoking Trump. She rubbed her temples and commanded Quinn DON'T DO THAT! She laid down in her tent. Quinn painfully dug in his pack for some psychic overstrain pills.
Ander Trumped Breann and reminded her about Victor. She told Quinn she was leaving for a bit and Trumped to Amber. She found Victor in the library. After conveying the message she arranged more fun for
Bleys: a brandy bottle of mixed grape juice and rubbing alcohol to go with an ultra-greasy Good Morning Burger.
Where is everyone?
Where Is Everyone?
His self-inflicted migraine reduced by chemicals to a mild annoyance, Quinn Lensed his private playshadows Aretia and Endor to see how they had come through the Cosmic Reshuffle. In both the Flaws had become more normal shadow areas. Both were coping well, though Aretia's wastelands were now occupied by. Barsoomish Tharks, calots and the like.
Quinn turned to scanning out the locations of the various Powers. Ygg was, indeed, the Navel of the Cosmos, with the four elemental Powers and Chaos defining five cardinal directions. Amber/Earth and Chaos were easily identified, and the Forge/Fire fairly certain. He tried running the Lens deep Forgeward and eventually lost all imaging to static.
Deirdre woke up from her nap and summoned Breann back to Ygg via Trump. Deirdre and Kethos decided they wanted Breann to fence with them. Breann declined. They insisted and got physical. Haranguing, dumping her out of her cot, poking with fingers--nothing worked. Deirdre smacked Breann up the side of the head with the flat of her axe, but Breann only loses her temper when Deirdre does not want her to. Deirdre suggested Breann return to Amber. Breann said she didn't want her mother mad at her. Way too late. Deirdre ORDERED her away. Breann left.
Meanwhile, Quinn had taken to studying Ygg itself, on the surface a huge (30' diameter trunk), massive, unclassifiable tree. In the Lens he could see magic and all five Powers flowing slowly into the Tree in a huge slow vortex, converting to purified magic and streaming out into Shadow through the root system. Sitting in full Lotus position, he quickly covered the area around him with paper: diagrams. calculations and speculations.
Breann Trumped into the Hall on horseback, saw her mount to the stables and went looking for Gerard. He was gone with Caine to survey the damage to the City. Rats. She attempted to reach Theseus via a 'TurboTrump'--nothing. She went to the infirmary and had her cheek saived and bandaged. She was displeased to learn that she had a little wound there in the shape of Deirdre's crest. Benedict had been out riding since dawn. Florimel was using the Informal Garden as an obstacle course in much-better-thanLaura-Croft style. Julian was riding to various posts in Arden and had left a detailed itenerary.
Breann decided that Uncle Julian might do and rode out to intercept him at the next post. She missed, as Julian was ahead of schedule, and persued. She stopped at the edge of a clearing around a mound. Julian was talking in friendly fashion to a very tall (6'8"), very thin, inhumanly beautiful blond woman in hunting clothes. Morgenstern was grazing off to the side. Breann stayed under the trees, watching, until the blonde ruffled Julian's hair affectionately (a good way to lose the hand, at least, normally; Julian seemed to like it from her) and strolled off into the forest. Julian called to Breann to come out and told her the lady was an old friend with ties to Tir-na Nog'th.
Breann accompanied Julian to the next stop, asking about the really fast spells she'd seen used (Power Words), and could he, would he teach her? Julian told her they wouldn't help her against Bleys, or most of her uncles either. He twitted her, in a friendly way, about picking an idiotic fight with Bleys.
Quinn was peripherally aware of Deirdre's and Breann's argument and Deirdre's subsequent brooding. When he came to a good stopping place he stored his notes and sat down next to her.
"Would you like to see something really strange? Look at the Tree through the Jewel." Deirdre did so. She was surprised (at what she had been sitting under) and intrigued. What could they do with it? Quinn scanned around some more, noticed Finndo coming near and alerted the party
Julian told Breann that most everyone had left the castle early due to her extremely successful efforts at annoying Bleys. It wouldn't be a bad idea for her to avoid the Castle for a while.
The next post was in caves behind a waterfall in a hostile (said Julian) region of Arden. Julian got them in from above, a passage leading to a rough, dim stable containing two horses and a guard leaning on the far wall. Julian summoned an ignis fatuus for light, revealing that the guard was stapled to the wall by arrows. Julian unloaded and cocked a crossbow, drew a Bowie knife and led the way. Down a stone hall littered with bodies to a big hall sunk thirty feet down from the entryway. A rough, unralled gallery circled the hall even with the entryway. Many dead men lay around the hall, pierced with arrows shot from above. Nothing moved but slowly pooling blood; the gallery was empty.
Breann followed Julian down to the Hall. Julian said that all the men assigned to the post were accounted for. Most had died quickly by arrows but the captain, at the head of the table, had been tortured. He looked around the room--how did they get in? The chimney-hole was covered by an iron grate, intact. He asked Breann to check on the gallery.
Up on top, Breann heard a soft scuffing sound ahead of her, then two mcqe behind her.
Ahead of her an albino elf aimed a bow at Julian. Another scuff ahead as an elf stepped out of a shadow ahead of her and loosed an arrow at her. She dodged. Julian yelled below. She charged the closest one in front of her and knocked him away despite his fading in and out of the shadows. The crossbow twanged and an elf gurgled, died.
Breann faked her immediate foe out and skewered him, then nailed the one further down with a thrown dagger. Julian was under one of the massive tables. Breann grabbed Dead Elf Number One's bow and quiver and looked around. The ones on her side were aware of her, on the other side they were watching for Julian to stick his head out; one was on the hall floor, stabbing under the table and dodging chairs. She shot one on her side, dodged an arrow and stopped another with the bow stave. She dropped the bow and snaked out her wrist rocket and slugs, ducking from several archers now. She brained one across from her, then hit the one stabbing at Julian in the leg--Julian nailed him to the flagstones with his Bowie. Too many arrows were coming at her now, from more dangerous angles. Breann leaped out and caught the massive wooden light-wheel hanging in the middle of the room, dropped to a table, flipped off of it and bounced after Julian pounding up the stairs despite an arrow in his lefe leg. They killed their way to the vacant stable, out the broken metal doors to where Morgenstern and Orach were waiting. They rode away.
Julian asked Breann which Word she wanted to learn first.
Finndo arrived with two soldiers. He came to swift agreement with Deirdre: a general alliance, though he did not want all of his relatives trooping through the Forge for empowerment.
Quinn brought up the communication difficulties. Deirdre had reached Finndo by Trump only with Ander, an Initiate of the Forge, helping her. Quinn volunteered go with Finndo and Kethos part-way to the Forge to test the various kinds of Trumps available (Dworkin-made or Fiona-made Pattern Trumps, and Miriel's 'pure' Trumps) to see if there were differences in range or interference. Deirdre and company would ride back via the Golden Circle. Quinn Trumped Miriel to brief her. She agreed to help and mentioned that there had been a big disturbance earlier, with shouting and breakage (Quinn brought Deirdre into the contact at that point), and that the kitchen staff in particular were terrified. Her advised her to lie low in her rooms or the library.
Shortly after heading off, Quinn Trumped Altariel, his mother, to find out how she and her folk were faring. She and they were fine and had visited Tir-na Nog'th, -their ancestral home. Quinn asked for and was promised a tour. There were several factions in Tir, with Theseus in it up to his neck, They were in Arden's outskirts presently-apparently they had no trouble moving through the Air or Earth shadows.
Where is everyone?
Where Is Everyone?
Breann and Julian stopped at a defensible tor for first aid. Julian pulled the arrow out of his leg, growling, and bound up the wound. Breann bandaged her own hurts. Breann thought she heard suspicious noises; Julian did not. They rode off towards the next post.
Quinn Trumped Fiona and got her help with the Trumping-to-other-realms experiment. Quinn asked her to help Miriel speed up her Trump production as he foresaw a big demand for new cards. Unless she wanted everyone to beseige herwith requests.
Breann and Julian moved into even nastier shadows of Arden. Permanent twilight, haunted-seeming swampy forests, bugs and stinks. Julian gave muzzy answers to Breann's questions, then denied he was drugged. Breann suggested they return to Amber.
Quinn sucked up to Finndo by explaining how to use a Jewel as a scrying device--all in the spirit of allied cooperation and screwing Osric, of course.
All sounds but their speach died out. Breann tried to Trump to Amber but couldn't quite manage the full concentration required. She took over the shadowshifting:
"Any time you want to help," she shouted at Big M, "go ahead. There was Poison on the arrows. We're both trippin', maybe YOU could get us back to Amber." Morgenstern made a HNNNH noise and was GONE in a spray of mud. Breann followed as best she could, screaming threats at the villagers, who were showering her with stones. Morgenstern and Julian were already far away.
Finndo guided Quinn and Kethos to a great fortress on the "edge of the borderlands" which guarded the only route in to his realm. Quinn felt forces--magic, Trump, and firePattern-- roiling like a storm front at the border, for miles on either side of it. Not a good place to use sorcery. Once on the other side, and out of the turbulence, he tried to employ the Pattern for some minor effects. Nothing.
Breann changed a big tree full of power to a Christmas tree, and entered a strange city. Its inhabitants, leathery, strange-looking folk, winged and worse, gave her hostile looks. They approached menacingly. She tried for teddy bears and got Demon Teddies From Hell, evil little gingerbread men and rabid, bat-winged bunnies and squirrels. She wished for a hungry Giant to swallow the things -- the Void at the bottom of the canyon turned into a mouth and swallowed them all, her included.
Breann fell and fell, shifting wildly. Bounced off a cyclopian trampoline and caught a hang glider with one hand, holding Cuchulain by the saddle with the other. She landed on a huge field of blue grass with shredded demon-things scattered across it. Silent and without smells.
Ok, let's have some sound -- TOO LOUD! -- she adjusted it. The corpses started to talk to her, calling her name. OK, no sound and, uh lots of lilacs -- the flowers covered up the corpses. Breann was on a fluffy, green cloud. Cuc had wings and was not happy about it. Cuchulain stopped panicking and started to enjoy flying. They came upon a dark city in a mass of grey, green-lit clouds. Buildings appeared and disappeared in the mist. Lots of odd flying vehicles. Gaslights. People wearing big hats and long, dark coats.
Past the disruption, Quinn acquired a good teleport destination. An hour further on he began the tests. The results:
Quinn suggested that Finndo employ a sorcerer to help out. Finndo didn't know any sorcerers he trusted. The only other thing Quinn could come up with was that Finndo and Deirdre could walk each other's Patterns. Finndo looked like he thought hiring a sorcerer might not be so bad after all.
Three castles dominated the cloud city: a baroque Amberish one, a thing of fairy towers and a dark blocky one. Breann landed near the blocky one and tried to talk to people. They avoided her. She demanded the castle guards admit her, claiming she had been there twenty or thirty times before. The pasty, human-looking guards were puzzled. Breann suggested they check with their leader. They let her into the bailey while they did that thing. Soon, though, she became uneasy and turned to leave. Too late. Shwoop! Osric teleported in behind her.
"Hello, Niece." Osric smiled at her.
Breann spurred Cuchulain and dodged around Osric. He tapped the horse's head in passing and Cu collapsed. Breann jumped free.
"Please, you are my guest. Stay."
"I'd hate to be a poor guest, but I want to go."
The portcullis fell closed.
Where is everyone?
Where Is Everyone?
Quinn told Finndo about Brand, Sand and the Hall of Mirrors. Finndo didn't think he would have any such problems; he was a less whimsical architect than Dworkin.
They both watched Kethos walk the Forge. The heat of the room would have killed a mortal. It got hotter as Kethos walked, obviously struggling. Even Finndo looked a little concerned. Quinn, calculating his own chances, thought he would already be dead.
The heat increased as Kethos walked. Eventually, Kethos made it to the center and fell on his face, he and his sword smoking. Finndo nodded. "Hm. Difficult." He led Quinn upstairs.
Finndo gave Quinn the short tour of his fortress. Castle Forge was designed, top to bottom, to eat invaders alive and shit out their powdered bones.
Ander, his family, and Vic and his family left the Blackhawks game happy for the home team tie. Some people recognized Ander as Carl Meadows. While walking to the car, he got a Trump call: Deirdre. She briefed him on recent events and pointedly asked when would he be back. Ander held out for more vacation time, then volunteered to go look for Random when the time came.
Cylk was at an opera en route to getting a lovely woman into bed. During the intermission he drowned his sorrows with several martinis. Alone for a moment, he noticed a stunning redhead gazing at him challengingly from across the room. Cylk conjured a rose, snagged two drinks and approached her. At twelve feet she said "Alistair Corey?"--his current alias--just as a man bumped into him. When Cylk looked back at her, she was gone.
Breanne assessed her tactical situation. She was in a very narrow courtyard with no cover. The closed portcullis was forty feet to her rear, her horse and Osric twelve feet ahead of her. She feigned panic and ran at the gate screaming like a frightened child. She grabbed the bars and pulled out her Trump deck, saying "All right, ail right, I know I'm trapped."
The top card, the last one she had used, was the one she wanted: the Theseus turbo-Trump:
Theseus: "Breann, what an incredible surprise! About Fiona..."
Breann, (in a mental shout and vocal whisper): "THROUGH! THROUGH! THROUGH! THROUGH!"
Theseus: "OK, I'll come through..."
Breann: "NO! NO! PULL ME THROUGH!"
Theseus closed his eyes and pulled. Breann nearly leapt through and they stumbled back into a duck pond. Breann hugged him, shocking him to his toes. He looked at her carefully, noting the dilated pupils, the not of her voice as she sang "I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive!"
Theseus started herding her indoors, into his castle, for talk and orange juice. He identified the third castle for her as that of the "Fairy Queen".
Cylk checked the whole room for the vanishing redhead. Nothing. His date returned: he gave her the rose. After six or seven more hellish hours of opera, it ended. They drove to his amazing flat and much more agreeable activities commenced. Later, Cylk lay with the sleeping girl cuddling on him and pondered the vanishing woman.
Theseus endured the hell of Breann, high on hallucinogens, attempting to explain cosmic, technical events that she only vaguely understood herself. Theseus thought he was still in Tir-na Nog'th As It Was Before with some unknown force or event blocking sight and Trump contact with Amber. He no longer thought that he had become completely insubstantial and out of phase with reality. Breann babbled about Four Real Patterns, Gingerbread Men and a Big Black Hole... Theseus fed her cookies.
Cylk heard a noise about 3AM and set out to investigate wearing sweatpants and armed with a heavy metal flashlight. No one was about, but his PC was turned on with his secure personal files on screen. The smell of expensive French perfume lingered in the air. He thought the scent would suit the Vanishing Woman. One unsecure entrance: the balcony door had been opened from the inside.
Theseus took Breann to view the Air Pattern in a da Vinci-esque flying machine. The city was in two-thirds in twilight, but Osric's section was dark as night. Breann and Theseus landed at a circular park in the center of the cloud city. Three regiments of soldiers surrounded a circular hole in the ground/cloud. The normal-looking soldiers saluted Theseus, the elvish types nodded politely and the pasty followers of Osric sneered at him. Five feet out from the edge of the hole, a pale, wavering Pattern shimmered on nothing. There appeared to be ground about five or six miles below the clouds.
Breann wanted to try to walk it immediately. Theseus dragged her away. One, she was still drugged. Two, the Air Pattern seemed to be whimsically choosy. Six good, logical candidates were now stains far below. Trumps malfunctioned in this Pattern's vicinity. On the other hand, a drunken taverner had successfully walked it on a bet. Breann said she could wear a parachute, like Sander did. After a nap. Theseus predicted she would be unable to sleep for at least half a day.
Theseus took Breann off and kept her occupied.
Quinn took his leave as soon as possible and teleported to the edge of the Border. His pass got him through the fortress security without trouble. A short walk and he zapped to Amber. Napped.
Seneschal Scudamore woke Quinn up a few hours later to ask where he wanted to dine. Bleys had attacked a blameless servant the day before--lightly: the man would recover--and all the rest of the family had found reasons to be elsewhere. Except for Fiona who was closeted in her cavern lab. Quinn decided to eat with Miriel and then leave. He told Scudamore to brace Fiona should Bleys become excessive. Quinn would take the heat for disturbing her.
Ander noticed a humvee following them on the drive to their motel. He picked a stop, told Lora she was driving (Lora had just discovered the joys of automobiles) and bailed out.
Ander ran to the Humvee, noting it had two occupants, both in the front, and yanked open the driver's door. "Hey, can I catch a ride with you guys?" The driver tried to point a SMG--Ander swatted him, tossed him unconscious into the back seat and hopped in. The second man got over his shock and went for a gun. Ander whacked him in the left ear and drove off. He stopped and searched their clothes at a convenient spot. They were dressed like Men In Black, carried paramilitary weapons, had Securicprp IDs and lots of cash. Ander found some duct tape and bound them up.
Ander went to Victor's house and invited him to come for a ride. They discussed interrogation options. Victor suggested Ander do the 'hoodoo stuff'. Ander, very unpracticed at mindreaming, gave it a shot. No problem. Ander found he could easily force his captive to answer questions. Unfortunately, the man knew little. Someone had hired Securicorp to watch Ander while he was on tour and that was that. Ander switched to asking about the company's internal security procedures. They would hit the place for some answers. Tonight. But first, off to a 7-11. Hold on to your ass, Vic.
Cylk heard more noises, loud ones, from outside. He produced a gun, carefully went out to the balcony and listened to the sounds of Jackie Chan fighting a kung fu gang, or something close to it. A man flew out of the garden trees, rolled, sprang up and returned to the fray. Cylk jumped down and looked into the darkness under the trees. Someone blindsided him. Cylk lost the pistol but kept the flashlight. His attacker was a thin albino in tight black clothes, standing in a martial arts stance. Smiling: he had pointed teeth. Cylk grinned, conjured a fake grenade, and tossed it to Smiley. "Catch!"
Smiley dodged and Cylk charged him like a berserker, yelling wordlessly, Cylk took half an eardrum pop, grabbing Smiley by his long hair, then smashed the freak's head into a tree trunk, hard, three times. Dropped him as another body sailed by and landed on Smiley. Cylk spun. "Interesting technique," said the Vanishing Woman, now dressed black pants, a fetchingly tight rust-colored T-shirt and a black leather jacket.
Cylk could half hear, half lip-read her comment. "You like that, huh?" He picked Smiley up and dragged him into the house, beckoning her to follow. The ringing in his ears did not encourage conversation. He dumped Smiley on the kitchen table, poured himself a drink and gestured at her to help herself to the bar or the fridge. She chose the fridge, and selected a beer from the six varieties available.
"You have interesting houseguests."
"Thank you. And who the Hell are you? And what's that perfume?"
"I was going to come by. I got your address from from the benefit people at the Opera -- I ran into Them by accident."
"Who are you?"
"A friend of the family."
"I have no family. The rest of my family died long ago."
"Ah. No." After a pause, "People are looking for you. You are important to quite a few people... in a... cosmic sense. I thought you should be warned."
"Pardon me if I don't believe you. And pardon me while I find out what this scumbag is here for."
"Some of what you were told is, hm, not completely accurate."
"I don't need to hear that... I don't know what I know."
Cylk's half-hearted effort at flirting fell flat, but she did leave him her cell phone number.
Where is everyone?
Where is everyone?
Where Is Everyone?
Quinn had lunch with his protegee Miriel and picked up the first of the Trumps he had commissioned: one of Breann. Afterward he visited Bleys (Prince of Winos) and found out that Corwin had provided the firearms and cannon. Corwin had kept secret the source of the gunpowder.
Cylk sat in his breakfast nook at 3am talking with the Vanishing Woman. Cylk endeavored to seem more knowledgeable than he was, to imply that her information was not wholly reliable and to flirt with her. All at the same time.
The Vanishing Woman claimed to be Corwin's younger sister Sand. She said that she was of a faction trying to defend AMBER (the name resonated strangely in Cylk) from others who wished to attack it. Both sides wanted to locate and control the source of the gunpowder that functioned in Amber. Both factions believed that Cylk knew where the gunpowder shadow was. The evil Others would not hesitate to capture Cylk and force the information out of him; virtuous Sand was risking herself to warn and help him. She also said that Corwin was dead. Cylk wasn't buying; he wanted to see Amber for himself. Sand claimed it was impossible at present. She argued on and on. Cylk came on to her with all the finesse of a drunken frat boy. She didn't want any, but left him a Trump of herself on her way out.
Breann sat with Theseus in one of his castie's breakfast nooks, eating pancakes and watching enormous dirigibles out the window. He explained the political situation to her. There were three factions: his, Osric's humanoids and the elves. He wasn't sure who was leader of the elves. Breann asked him if he had made a Turbo-TruMP*TM of Quinn. She felt that Quinn would distract Osric from, say, her, Theseus foresaw problems.
Ander and Vic's raid on Securicom started out nice and quiet, but they ended up knocking out all the guards they could find. Computer files revealed that round-the-clock surveillance on both of them had started up the day BEFORE Ander arrived. It was paid for by an East Coast conglomerate; Ander got the billing address. Securicom had also been paid to watch him for two months prior to his wedding--and the commando attack that accompanied it. "Specialists" had been called in for the wedding itself and surveillance had been set to end after it.
Ander called Katherine and Lora at the motel. He instructed them to take Davin and all their things to Victor's house and convince Victor's wife Sandy to pack for a long camping trip with the whole family. While Vic checked the humvee for tracking devices, Ander left a note on the computer ("We're coming. Order extra ice."), called an assistant manager of the Mighty Ducks in California (for reasons that completely evaded this scribe), and made nine first class reservations from Boston to Berlin on Lufthansa, using a Securicom credit card.
Ander and entourage, in two cars ("STAY BEHIND ME, NO MATTER WHAT."), drove from Chicago to Boston in under an hour. Only Vic and Lora noticed. Vic muttered curses; Lora, who was studying the road maps, decided that this was a trick she needed to learn.
Gerard let Quinn into the armory and at the firearms. The ammo still worked, dammit, causing much excitement among the castle guards. Quinn took some bullets apart to examine, smell, feel and taste the pink powder, in hopes of finding or making a shadow with more, and finding where Corwin had got the stuff. He wanted a bodyguard and settled on Breann as the likeliest choice. Just as Quinn began to Trump Breann he felt an incoming call. It was Breann, backed by Theseus from VERY FAR AWAY. She described the situation in Tir-na Nog'th and mentioned that Julian was wounded and probably hallucinating. Quinn weighed fear of Osric against duty, curiosity and opportunity. He grabbed a 9mm pistol and two extra clips--just in case--and sent a quick note to Gerard outlining Breann's information, then went through to Breann.
Theseus briefed Quinn, including the information that one of the eivish leaders, a very tall, very beautiful blond woman, had met him upon his arrival and handed him the Air Jewel. So Theseus was attuned to it, secretly. Any person who walked the Air Pattern was matched by others from the other factions. Jewel attunement counted as a 'turn'. Osric had walked and attuned. Two leaders of the elves, Brigid and Artanis, the helpful blond, had re-walked it; apparently both had done so in the Old Days, before Dworkin's cosmic rearrangement. Theseus had walked it and so had an uninvited man from Theseus' faction named Geoffrey. On a bet. Several other Pattern-crashers had died trying.
Brigid and Artanis led two factions of the elves. Brigid was working with Osric. Quinn reluctantly told his cousins that Artanis was his mother. Hm. If Breann walked the Pattern as Theseus' choice, and Quinn as Artanis'... Theseus had no idea who would choose the next candidate among the elves. Quinn said that 'Noldor' was more polite than 'eives'.
Cylk answered his date's calls from upstairs by going up for more sex. Later, he went down and tortured the captive for an hour before asking any questions. The man had been sent by his queen to capture Cylk for interrogation. Cylk stashed the corpse in the downstairs bathroom.
Quinn Trumped his Mom. Artanis was surprised to see that he was in Tir-na Not'th. He explained, and told why Osric was, one, scum, and, two, not at all a fan of Quinn's. She told him that Brigid was his great-great aunt and ruler of a long-separate branch of the Noldor. Artanis was pleased with the notion of Quinn as a candidate.
Where is everyone?
Where Is Everyone?
--the gun worked. Quinn tossed it to Breann in response to her gimme-gimme look, followed by the extra clips. Theseus was surprised that the Amber bullets functioned, since Tir-na Nog'th had its own variety of gunpowder--gray, grainy stuff. The Tir-na Nog'th guns were well made but less advanced than Corwin's.
Theseus took Quinn to a tower and pointed out the sights: stable clouds like floating islands, croplands far below on the surface, the city split in obvious thirds with a big park containing the Pattern in the center. Breann told him about her and Julian's adventure with Brigid's troops.
Quinn Trumped to Artanis' palace and took Breann along. He introduced Breann to his mother, who radiated MAJESTY at wattage sufficient to stun anyone not used to it. Artanis gave them a quick description of her relationship with Brigid: mutual tolerance defined, Tir-na Nog'th-style, by a thousand niggling agreements and petrified points of etiquette. As for Osric, he had Changed Things. (Chilly disapproval.) Still, Tir-na Nog'th would not become a venue for settling Amber's affairs.
Artanis explained that Quinn's and Breann's status was precarious. They were un-people, without rights or recourse until claimed by some faction. Breann, she suggested, would be an excellent addition to Theseus' personnel. Theseus lacked confidence. She didn't like the idea of Theseus bringing in his first choice--Fiona.
Quinn asked his mother for a favor: a suit of quality armor for Breann. Artanis was pleased with the idea for some reason. She took Breann off to the armory. The Noldor armory resembled an exquisite art gallery, the weapons and armor all qualified as masterpieces. Breann had always disliked armor--too heavy and binding. Artanis found for her a double-linked suit of 'starsteel' chainmail, light as a coat and tougher than tooled steel. Breann loved it. Artanis said she would have it altered to fit her and sent over to Theseus' castle.
Back at Castle Theseus, Breann found she was still unable to rest. She joined the guards in the salle and showed them new heights of swordplay--they had thought Theseus was amazing.
Quinn, also back at Theseus', cut his hair short, dyed it black (including the eyebrows), and joined in the practice session. He took some lumps until the guards realized that he was not a warfare prodigy like his cousins.
Theseus came down and showed Breann the two-dirk fighting style favored by local duelists. Then they switched to Greyswandir-type broadswords and cut loose with wildly acrobatic fencing. The guards were spellbound. They finished over an hour later, just in time for Breann to receive a delivery from the elf-palace. It was the armor, already tailored and fitted with bronze detail work, plus an elegant dagger, sheath and belt. Breann sent a nice thank-you note to Artanis.
Theseus had Quinn help him try to reach Fiona via a Turbotrump: nothing. Evidently she was not accepting calls. Quinn borrowed the Great Hall turbo when Theseus went off to mope and do puzzles. He wrote up a concise summary of current events, sealed it, labeled it for Deirdre or Gerard and sent it through to the Hall by enhancing the Trump with a spell.
Where is everyone?
Where Is Everyone?
Artanis, Theseus, Breann and Quinn decided that Breann should walk the Pattern first, since Osric knew she was in Tir-na Nog'th.
Breann and Quinn got outfitted with pistols and concealed holsters. Breann wanted to use her wristrocket. Quinn demonstrated that HE could draw and fire a pistol faster than she could draw, load, pull and release pellets. She stuck with the gun.
Midafternoon a message arrived for Lord Theseus from the Master of Ceremonies (literally: the Master of all ceremonies in the Tir -- a very powerful individual, apparently). Osric's candidate would publicly walk the Pattern in two days. The other factions had (absolutely had) to do the walk in public as well. The repercussions from jumping the gun were too bad to risk it. Theseus, Breann and Quinn discussed and rejected the idea of claiming to be OSRIC'S candidates (as his niece and nephew), putting him two behind. Unfortunately, Theseus said that in Tir-na Nog'th the faction leaders had some degree of real Pattern-based power over their sworn Pattern-walking followers. Breann tried to get Theseus to field test this power on his lone subordinate Initiate, Garvin. Theseus refused. Breann talked about nailing Anax. Quinn and Theseus were puzzled as to why Breann placed more blame on Anax, who kidnapped Davin for Osric in the gentlest way possible, rather than on Osric. Osric himself would have slaughtered the foster parents before Davin's eyes. Or worse.
A public Pattern walk was an Event in Tir-na Nog'th. Huge, festive crowds filled the park. There were food vendors, children playing games, commoners hoping for glimpses of the elite, singing, etc. Quinn mingled with his kinsmen, including his half- sister Silverstep and her sons Star-man and Star-rider. They kidded him about the ears. Theseus was shadowed by his Initiate Garvin, who looked out of his depth but game. Osric and Anax talked quietly in a big group of their darkmen.
Breann couldn't resist taunting Osric and Anax. Osric was charming and malign, offering to return Breann's horse, oozing condenscension, and digging for information. Breann lied back and zingged Anax about wounding him. Osric needled her about the rest of the family's invalids and asked after Quinn. Breann said Quinn was busy with his Shadows. Osric complimented her on her resemblance to Deirdre. Breann restrained herself. She and Osric continued their verbal fencing while Anax wandered off.
Quinn found himself talking to a beutiful woman with angel wings. They warmed to each other as they wandered the area and chatted. He noted she was avoiding Osric's group.
Quinn enjoyed the company, kept half an eye on Osric and Anax, and wondered how sensitive the wings were. Anax circulated away from Osric.
Quinn and the winged woman, whose name was Lusharra, rounded a gazebo that blocked the view of the center, and found Anax there.
"Gutted any cousins recently?" asked Quinn for openers. Lusharra's grip on his arm went tight. Anax grimaced. Quinn laid into Anax with all the insults-cum-arguments he'd been thinking about for weeks. What was a member of the Lakota doing with Osric, who abused his own child kin while wearing the father's face. Anax went rigid with hurt. Lusharra's grip was painful.
Bells sounded to summon everyone for the ceremony. Anax said he would escort Lusharra to her party. Lusharra declined Quinn's offer to do the same. He bowed her, elf-formal, and she walked off without Anax.
Anax looked after Lusharra, then at Quinn. "By the way, Osric is very protective of his daughter."
"Then this meeting was deliberate?"
"Yes. We have to go for a Walk now."
Quinn smiled. "Of course."
Breann returned to the fretting Theseus. Where had she been? Where was Quinn? Oh Shit, that's Osric's daughter he's with.
The groups formed up. Breann stood behind Theseus. Quinn was behind and between Artanis and Brigid. The Master of Ceremonies made a speech. Quinn saw Anax whisper to Osric, who looked surprised indeed and then found Quinn in the crowd.
Anax walked the Air Pattern. Breann and Quinn watched carefully for differences from Amber's. Anax did not shapeshift so wildly as his first Pattern walk, in Amber. A huge, hard-to-see, flying creature circled the area and cried out as Anax passed each of the Veils. Anax was successful. He bowed gracefully and vanished.
Breann's walk was much the same, minus the shapeshifting. She was in the center for a while, thinking about where to go. People started to mutter. She decided: Amber. The Source-to-Source jump was extremely disorienting. She popped into the Great Hall at a 45 angle. Set off for the infirmary.
Quinn hadn't walked a Pattern without all his technique to ease the way in a long time. On the other hand, he was stronger than he had been in those days. Once in the center, he bowed in an exaggeration of Anax' style. He teleported to Artanis (wasting a teleport to Anywhere trivial to him), bowed very formally to her and then to Brigid. He decided showmanship was worth exhaustion: opened a (magical) teleport to the elvan palace and politely offered it to the elf entourage. Artanis and ten of her people went through, then Brigid and ten of hers--more than Quinn had counted on. He sucked it up and managed to grin at Brigid when she curtsied to him on the way through. In the palace he didn't stagger against a wall until Brigid left the room. Artanis led Quinn on her arm to his rooms. The hour-long nap felt like no time at all.
Where is everyone?