Where is everyone?
Edward ravenously ate crummy food in a terrible dive while trying to control his internal bleeding. It was a technique he had heard of but never mastered. Everyone in the dive jerked to alertness at new sounds from down the street, sounds that Edward recognized as a heavy gravcar touching down and a squad of soldiers deploying.
"CITIZENS: STAY IN YOUR EDIFICES. WE ARE CONDUCTING A BLOCK SWEEP OF SECTOR A-22. A-22."
Edward threw his money down and followed the man he had identified as the greatest potential threat out into the maze of dark alleys. As he shadowed the man he shifted his appearance to be even seedier. The weasel hulk he was following continued through winding alleys until emerging a an open street. Sensing something, the large fellow turned back to the alley, drawing a gun and calling for Edward to show himself. but fell to automatic fire -- his thrashing as he went down launched the gun through the air, where it fell at Edward's feet. Edward snatched the gun and dove (painfully) into a storm drain before the patrol that had gunned down the two could investigate the alley. He fell onto his back in six feet of water and was painfully unable to move for a moment. He crawled away from the pipe opening and listened to the troopers above. Some were staying to patrol the area. Edward set off through the storm drains.
Breann found herself walking the dream canyons again, whistling and tossing rocks. She heard Lora whistling in tune with her just as she realized she was dreaming. She found Lora sitting on a rock near the Dream Gateway.
Lora smiled crookedly, "I couldn’t find your horse."
"Are you OK?" asked Breann, looking at the dripping slash on Lora’s forehead, the bandaged hands and foot.
"I’ll be all right. I have to go now. I’ve been holding myself here and can’t do it any more."
"Who hit you?" asked Breann, revenge burning in her eyes.
"I don’t know. I was busy throwing fire." Lora stood and walked to the Gateway. "Call me if you need me!" she said over her shoulder. As she did the Gateway’s image of Amber changed to an evil black castle with huge winged shapes circling it; Lora stumbled through yelling "Oh SHIT!"
Breann’s lunge was too slow; the Gateway vanished before she could reach Lora.
Quinn took stock of the situation. Breann was bruised, dehydrated and suffering from moderate widespread electrical burns. Adril and Elrohir had only minor injuries, and Adril still had half his ammo. Theseus had major burn damage including several fingers burned away. Lora’s hands had second degree burns from her own castings, her left foot was broken and she had a gash on her forehead. Artanis’ right arm was sprained and she was scorched and exhausted. Osric was exhausted. The false Master of Ceremonies’ corpse was still floating over the city.
Quinn used the Lens to search for Mori stragglers to mindburn but found none. They had learned. He smiled at the thought of being something of a bogeyman to the Mori. He returned to the infirmary as Breann woke up yelling.
"Quinn! There you are. Touch up the healing, I gotta go!" She rolled out of her bed and couldn’t stand.
Quinn hauled her back to the bed saying, "You need more than a touch-up." Lora’s bed was empty. "Who moved Lora?" The infirmary attendants didn’t know.
Breann babbled incoherently about tracing her dreams, ending with, "There was a Trump Gate in her dream and it was not kosher! Must rescue Lora!"
Artanis came in to see what all the yelling was about. Quinn gestured her closer, "Breann says Lora disappeared in a dream. Is that possible here?"
"They usually fall asleep and are sent from the Tir in dreams, like Vaughn and Kethos. She would go home."
Quinn winced, "She must have gone to the Baron’s place."
"Which baron?"
Artanis quickly recognized the sorcerer Quinn described. "Quite a formidable man."
Meanwhile, Breann was trying to Trump Lora and failing. Osric wandered in and she asked him to try to reach Lora.
Osric let his surprise show, glanced about at Quinn, Artanis and the doctors and knelt at Breann’s bedside. "Normally I would not ask you this: are you sure you want me to Trump your favorite niece?"
"Better you than the Baron."
Osric smiled at that, then told them that the Baron was untouchable in his place of power. Quinn pointed out that the Baron had been seen to leave his home. Osric said such events were rare.
Quinn said, "He’ll probably not hurt her much right away."
"I know the Baron well," said Osric, "She’s a formidable sorceress for her age. He’ll probably just brainwash her to his cause. It’s what I would do," he added, forgetting himself. He realized what he had said and quickly left the room.
Breann searched through her Trump deck, acting more and more frantic. She focused on Lysander’s card and concentrated. Quinn imagined her Trumping to Aramyst (bordering the Baron’s realm and where Lysander was King-consort) and getting killed, captured or simply alerting the Baron to their interest. He touched Breann’s neck and mentally forced her to sleep. He would pay for this, he knew.
Artanis gave Quinn an approving look. "I wondered when someone was going to do that."
Quinn gave Artanis the Trump of Osric, gave Adril the machine pistol and remaining drum of ammo and had Theseus and Breann readied for transport to Aretia.
Megan was taken by Aurelea and Cianna for a coach tour of Caer Beatha and found herself subjected to constant mindless droning chatter. She tried to sort out her half-memories of the Beathan Pattern and made little progress. Only flashes of TRUTH, such as when she glimpsed Random as the coach passed his stand—Random was now a street vendor. Another FLASH while Aurelea droned on about the wonderful architecture—Megan suddenly noticed that the construction was not construction, the building was growing, organically. And again in a restaurant, FLASH and the adoring public suddenly had raw fear on their faces.
Megan couldn’t find much of a pattern to triggering the FLASHES, outside of Random. She tried to direct the path of the tour and found that they tried to keep her from seeing the poorer areas. Self-inquiry was impossible to maintain.
Edward slowly worked his way up the drain system towards the center of the disc. Periodically he stopped and tried to contact Bleys via Trump, without success. The card did cool, and when he tried the Trump of the Great Hall he could have gone through, so they were working properly.
He soon grew famished, due, no doubt to his accelerated healing and eventually was hungry enough to eat a couple of big rats. Raw. It took the edge off and helped him concentrate as he reached the central core. He ambushed a pair of drainage workers and ate their lunches. He cleaned up at a spigot and donned the work suit of one of the dead men, and took a set of tools, a radio, both Ids, both handcomps, both laser welders and both of their tasers. The bodies went down a large drain.
Edward found a secluded dataport and hooked in. He felt a tingle that scared him until he remembered the description of the feel of a Trump contact. He took it. "Hello…"
Where is everyone?
THINGS IN HEAVEN AND EARTH LOG - 47
Where is everyone?
Edward felt a Trump contact and cautiously accepted it, a knife in one hand and the other on his pistol. A feminine presence swiftly overwhelmed him, clamping down on the base of his brain like a vice. Magical energy washed around him, perhaps a spell being cast through the contact but not directed at him personally. Edward directed a Neural Disrupt at her. This annoyed Her. Induce Fear! Now She was pissed off. The magic still wasn’t doing anything to Edward. Now royally pissed himself, Edward used Neural Disrupt on himself and hit his head, hard, on the floor, while convulsing.
Edward regained consciousness bleeding from the back of his head and nursing a nasty headache. The contact was gone though. He concentrated and sealed the wound up. Returning to the dataport, Edward scanned the news and found the shootings described as a terrorist attack. Citizens were advised to avoid the sewer works and his former location. The police net told him that they were searching for a dangerous suspect in his current sector and all those adjacent—something that came up about the time he logged on. Edward immediately set to work fabricating a remote system break-in at the edge of the search sphere, to locate the security forces. They did indeed converge on the false break-in. He set the sprinkler and fire foam systems to go off at timed intervals at, and leading from, the diversion site. It worked like a charm, allowing Edward to flee up access tunnels and conduits.
Quinn had Breann and Theseus readied for transport and teleported them to his home high-tech shadow of Aretia. He used his private clinic, transferring staff from one of QED’s research hospitals at double pay. (It’s good to be ungodly rich.) Breann went into a vat with medication to keep her sleeping, using Quinn’s tolerances as a baseline. Theseus required a DNA work-up and nanomech programming, then he went into his own vat. Near perfect mixes of nutrients helped both of them recover from burns. In Theseus’ case the nanomachines started rebuilding skin, meat, bone and nerves from elements in his own blood, to maximize the ‘real’ materials in the regrown/remade fingers. Even so, the new fingers would lack the neural hardwiring of the originals and would likely be weaker for a time. All of this was the culmination of years of research and experimentation aimed at repairing himself should the need arise.
Quinn Trumped Deirdre and went through to her. He gravely explained the situation: Breann, Lora, Theseus, Land of Dreams (no, really) and the possibility of finding Lora within her dreamscape and at least gathering information. He mentioned making Breann sleep and why and that, yeah, he knew she would feel a need to retaliate. Deirdre said she could spare Gerard for the medical procedure of growing new legs—everybody was interested in having a viable technique for fast- growing lost body parts. Quinn contacted Gerard, who was agreeable. They went to Aretia and Gerard joined the ranks of the vat people, forgetting that he was supposed to be available to Megan’s Trump calls.
Breann’s stay in the vat lasted a little over one day. Quinn kept her sedated while he laid a healing spell on her and left her sleeping, unattended in a room with her weapons, armor and Trumps at hand and a big commo screen on one wall. When she awoke, Quinn briefed her via screen. Breann made no threats, but her eyes promised revenge. Quinn convinced her that there was a good chance to catch Lora’s dream self and find out where she was and what was happening to her, given the expert advice that Artanis could provide. Quinn gave Breann a spell—remotely-- to take he to Ygg; from there she could Trump to Artanis.
Megan actively tried to produce more Flashes of clarity. After a series of self- induced whiteouts she found herself in a scruffy Beathan street looking at a shop sign displaying a man’s head with a prominent third eye and a hand with symbols on it. She entered. The heavy incense seemed to clear her mind.
"Hello? Hello? asked a petite, brunette woman in gypsy clothes who stood as Megan entered. Megan said nothing. "Are you here for a reading? Hello?" The woman’s eyes had pale blue irises ringed with black and pinpoint pupils; they did not track Megan’s movements.
"Yes," said Megan, "I would like a reading, Miss…?"
"Vialle." She had Megan sit at a velvet-topped table, then produced a carved box of ivory or pale wood with a slit velvet top. "Reach in and pull out six items, one at a time, and hand them to me."
Megan pulled out carved figures: a woman that somewhat resembled Vialle, then a young woman with a sword, a wrapped box, a young man dressed for travel, two chimeraic creatures locked in battle (a three-headed bat winged dragon-goat versus a furred hydra), and finally an old man.
Vialle felt each figure, then spoke in a clear, altered voice: "You are currently traveling in darkness, bereft of insight into your condition. You know not which direction help will come from, nor who are your allies or enemies. You have been sent to do battle but your vision is clouded, preventing that. There are things about you that you do not know. Your own person contains secrets, danger and promises that you are currently unaware of, secrets which can be turned into great benefits, given time. You are on a long journey away from home and the object of your quest has tasks set them. Much of what applies to you applies to them. While you are not the most important piece, you are a piece on a board, played by greater powers. Wisdom has been denied you. Most of your current allies have been moved in opposition to that which moves you now." Vialle’s face changed. "May I ask your name?" she queried in a normal tone of voice.
"Megan of Amber."
"You probably shouldn’t be here. I am not in favor with the court, but I see that you are." Vialle replaced the pieces in the carved box and put the box away.
Megan searched her pockets for money and found a purse full of gold coins with no idea how she had come by it. She gave Vialle two of the coins, saying, "I thank you for this reading."
"Don’t thank me very much. If you see the object of your quest, send him here. Or if you watch the shop you may see him. He tends to find the place after an interval."
"I intend to complete the quest."
"I would expect no less, having seen your fortune, but others may interfere."
"And who are you, miss?"
"No one of consequence. I—hello?" Vialle asked as someone else entered the shop.
Llewella’s voice was smooth and sweet and somehow threatening, saying, "Oh, I just came by to pick up my niece so that she would make it back in time for dinner. Megan? Are you coming?"
Megan felt the mental fog thicken around her with every word Llewella spoke. She rose and docilely followed her aunt to a waiting carriage.
As they were whisked to the palace, Llewella fixed Megan with her gaze and said in serious tones, "There are certain things that are in place in the City, certain debts that must be paid, that are not negotiable. For a very long time after Dworkin constructed his binding the City and most of its prominent people were forced into reflecting the lives of other people. They were aware of their condition but unable to do anything about it. This changed with the destruction of the so-called Primal Pattern. The judgment of the people is that this punishment should be visited upon those what caused it until matters were made equal. Keep this in mind should you go on another joyride. You came dangerously near to interfering. This punishment is not negotiable."
They were late to dinner though no one commented upon it. Afterward, Llewella introduced Megan to a woman named Miriam. Miriam examined Megan, then turned to Llewella with a look of disgust and annoyance. "I’m not going to play this or be part of it, dear sweet little Aunt," she said, turned and stalked away.
Breann consulted with Artanis about contacting or rescuing Lora. Artanis felt that finding Lora’s dream site would be easy but that pulling her physically into her dream from a barred shadow was virtually impossible. Breann set out and soon (the Dreamlands are a minuscule region compared to the shadows of Amber) found what she felt had to be the place, a film noiresque venue in black and white. Her clothes and gear changed to fit, including her sword Divinity which now looked like a walking stick. She entered what felt like the right nightclub and soon had some difficulty resisting the pressure to slip into a persona which matched the dream, that of a rich, adventuring heiress. Breann found a table and wrote herself a note on her napkin: LOOKING FOR LORA. She ordered a drink and surveyed the crowd. Strange, only the drinks had color. The piano player was amazingly good… and he seemed very familiar.
Where is everyone?
THINGS IN HEAVEN AND
EARTH
LOG 48
Where is everyone?
Quinn Trumped his daughter Miriel and asked if she had made a Trump of Edward. She had, and agreed to lend it to him. Further, she was willing to monitor Gerard and Theseus in their vats of nanomech gel. She was no doctor but she could Trump him or someone else for help in an emergency. She came through, settled in and listened horrified to Quinn's account of events in the Tir. This freed Quinn to do a thorough Lens Search (he'd recently mastered the technique of remote shadowwalking) for Mori in Amber's lobe of the universe. He found traces of Mori-style Twilight all over Aramyst, the Shadow where his cousin Lysander was Consort to Empress Daelyn. Mori had been all over the palace there but Sander and Daelyn were alive, sleeping exhausted on couches with weapons in their hands. Quinn couldn't find any actual Mori; they seemed to be in nearby Ys, where his Lens was blocked. He Trumped Deirdre, waking her out of a sound sleep, and told her about Aramyst and the Mori. Next he tried to push his Lens probe into Ys and was blocked by some malevolent entity several times. He quit, returning his attention to his body and found himself tired and covered in sweat. Five hours he'd been pushing at Ys in what had felt like a few minutes. Miriel had left several increasingly worried messages on his com. He called her up to explain.
Ander awoke but quickly succumbed to spiraling
hallucinations. A maid screamed, he felt himself running through woods,
tripping, then remembering staring into dead eyes, running again... Back to the
sight of a young woman lying face-up on a big four-poster bed, dead, her
dressing gown open, her chest carved with strange symbols. She had a pretty,
angelic face and blood had been spread out to form wings... he seemed to be
looking down at her from the ceiling.
Carlysle Andrews woke with a start. The sign out his window blinked
VACANCY VACANCY VACANCY. It looked to be sometime in the early
afternoon. Someone knocked on the door. Andrews answered it and received a
package notice from a teenaged messenger. A minute later came another knock.
This time it was a cop, questioning him about his whereabouts two days previous.
The cop seemed to believe Andrews answers but eyed the package notice
suspiciously before leaving. Andrews bought some bourbon, then ordered a little
coffee in a bug cup at the nearest coffee shop. He combined them and started
drinking his breakfast. He phoned Vanessa to find out where they were playing
that evening. Andrews asked her if she had told the cops where to find him. She
hadn't, they'd already known. Andrews lost interest in the cops and asked about
the last song they'd played the night before.
Andrews visited the package shop, which was being watched by inept policemen.
There really was a package, a small one containing seven hundred dollars in
twenties and a note on a blank business card: Good job. Talk later. Andrews had
no idea where it came from but was not surprised. Nothing surprised him any
more. He took out one $20 and forwarded the rest to Vanessa. He bought a loaf of
day-old bread and went to the park. He fed the pigeons while drinking bourbon
with trace amounts of coffee.
Edward climbed for a long, long time. The security
measures at the entrance to the high-security area only slowed him down for a
few minutes. Far too convenient. So was the map of the sector he coaxed from the
last dataport. He tried again to Trump his father Bleys. It worked.
"Yes, Edward," said Bleys, "How are you?" Something was
wrong.
"Why, I'm fine. How are you?"
"I am well. I'm glad to see that the fall didn't do more than result in
that disappointing change of attire." The expression, the body language was
just a little stiff.
"I was thinking we should get together for a chat."
"I am at a rather secure place at the moment. Would you care to come
here?" Bleys looked at Edward and his background intently. "You
seem to be in a less friendly place than I. We should be working together."
Behind Edward, the terminal shut down. Bleys had always spoken to him in a flip,
offhanded manner, not with this full attention.
Edward smiled thinly, "I'll get back to you."
Megan endured the dazed hell of dinner in Caer
Beatha. She noted that Miriam did not join in the happy, mindless chatter common
to the rest of the Conclave. Megan started to approach her during the after
dinner mingling, then detoured all the way around the long table to avoid a
newcomer, a tall, calm and somehow intensely frightening man. Miriam's
conversation with Brendan ended abruptly as Megan neared --something about
Miriam's 'sister' that she found annoying.
"Hello, Megan," sneered Brendan, "How was your tour? I hear you
went about without my sister."
Megan glassily tried to make nice.
"So, Megan," began Miriam, "I've heard the official story, but
what really brought you here?"
Megan ran into a mental block, she couldn't quite remember.
Miriam saw Megan's confusion and snorted in disgust. "I understand you went
into the city alone. Run into anyone you know?"
"No. I...don't know anyone here."
"You'd be surprised. The city is a roller coaster of fun and adventure! You
have to get out there and enjoy it!" Miriam was quite loud. Llewella glared
at her.
"I'm surprised you stay," said Megan.
"You know what they say, 'keep your friends close and your enemies
closer,'" Miriam made a twisted smile, "One group, here. Why do you
stay?"
"Lack of free will."
"I doubt that." Miriam stood up to leave.
"I'd like to talk to you again."
"Messages to pass on?"
"You have a liberating effect on my mind. Could you give me your tour of
the city?"
"If you can get away from your aunt." Miriam sauntered away. Brendan
glared at Megan and left as well.
WHITEOUT
Megan found herself looking at the Pattern with no idea how or why. It came to
her that she had probably been tranced out when she came to the Pattern the
first time, that she really had... imprinted it. And she realized that she had
learned the shapes of everything she had touched, everything in the shadow of
Caer Beatha and maybe more. Most of the Beathan court were likely initiates of
the Pattern; the only ones she hadn't seen shifting were Llewella and Miriam.
She did not like the idea of fighting another shape shifter that expert. She
spent some time trying things out: shifting was generally a little easier,
formerly impossible combined forms were now difficult but doable. Tired and
slightly less confused, she went to her room and to bed.
Breann's dreamscape shifted and she was walking
through a park. It was difficult to concentrate. She saw a man--very
familiar--passed out on a bench. She fixed her will on the drunk but couldn't
put a name to him.
The man saw her staring and mumbled at her, "C'mon, baby, don't be stuck
up."
Breann set off to meet....an old friend, her college roommate...Lora Barnet, at
her flat just off of Main Park. Breann found the brownstone, got buzzed in, went
up the elevator with the dwarf operator....
Was rolled into a hospital ward on a gurney, strapped on so that her stitches
wouldn't reopen. Staff transferred her to a bed, a morphine drip started...
She floated in a vat of Aretian healing gel listening to Quinn's voice telling
her that she had to rest. Then someone knocked on the side of the vat-- Lora.
"Hey Fish Girl."
Breann couldn't talk, couldn't break out, and when she looked at Lora again the
Baron was standing next to her, looking dapper and evil. He turned up the dials
on her medications and Breann faded out, thrashing...
She was in boat pulling into port...
Into Mickey's Bar. She went in.
Carlysle Andrews came to in a club. Mickey's? Yes.
He apologized to Vanessa and did the first set dressed for pigeon feeding. The
bartender provided gin. Vanessa was mad at him. Again.
Lora Barnet walked in and found Breann's table. "Brenda! I thought you were
going to show up earlier."
"I had trouble getting in." Lora looked distracted. "Is something
wrong?"
"No. I'm waiting on a friend."
"Really. Who?"
"I'm supposed to meet Lucy Cavoy-- I told you about her-- we were kids
together."
Breann found she had ghost collegiate memories of Lora telling her all about
Lucy. Osmund Cavoy, the mob boss, walked over to his table, looking angry.
Andrews, starting a new set, looked out into a haze of smoke and found his
freshened drink.
Breann saw Lora, Boss Cavoy and Monica Eldren, the actress, exchange nods. The
singer tensed. Half a dozen police appeared, signaled by Lora and Eldren towards
the piano player, who was oblivious to the sudden attention.
Vanessa flubbed a line and Andrews covered automatically.
Breann felt herself sinking into Brenda, losing track of what she was about.
Police detective Dagwood stopped next to Andrews, saying, "Carl Anders, you
are under arrest for the murders of Lucy Cavoy and Elvis Eldren. Andrews kept
playing until the detective physically stopped him. "Come down here sir,
off the stage. Turn around." They handcuffed him and took him away,
followed by Boss Cavoy (looking death at him) and Monica Eldren.
Breann's head cleared as people left the club. Lora was crying softly; she said
that she had found Lucy's body.
Breann couldn't care less about Lucy. "Where are you?" Lora, fully in
the dream, didn't understand. Breann's explanations only confused Lora more.
Breann tried for a psychic contact, causing Lora to jerk away. Breann thought
quickly. She'd seen Theseus stuck in an intangible dream form after a mishap in
Old Tir-na Nog'th, and only Greyswandir had been real... she touched Lora's leg
with her dream-disguised sword Divinity. Lora's eyes went wide. Breann
explained. Lora was in one (one of dozens) of the Baron's castles. Breann got an
image of the castle Lora was in, plus the route Lora used to get there from
outside Ys. Lora didn't know if Trumps worked there or not.
A cop interrupted them, "Ma'am? Ma'am? Miss Lora, we need you to come with
us and identify Mr.. Anders."
Breann thought, Oh, shit! That was Ander.
Quinn, appalled at the lost time, Lensed out to
Aramyst and saw an army moving there out of Ys. He informed Julian and Deirdre,
then ran down to Fiona's workroom. Her wards let him through, to find her asleep
half on her work bench and half on a stool. He woke her up and asked her to
provide backup: he was going there in person. He ran upstairs to his rooms and
picked up the .50 caliber (HMG) sniper rifle he'd made up in the hopes of
shooting Osric, plus some ammo. He paused for several minutes to modify the
Flight spell (a must in the Tir) to work in Aramyst, then teleported to a spot a
thousand feet above the battlefield. He activated two Shield spells and
surveyed the field.
Julian had led some cavalry in. The Aramyst army was as ready as it ever was--
mostly poorly trained farmboy militia. They faced a lot of Mori and a whole army
of what looked like the Baron's zombies. The Mori were letting the monsters take
most of the action. Quinn looked for magical weak points on the undead and
discovered that they were animated by physical parasites instead. Aramyst was
far too close to Amber to be easily or deeply changed without the Jewel of
Judgement. After a few moments Quinn decided that the best way to hurt the
zombies, the wet, slimy zombies, was to dry them out. He flew higher and
arranged for Fiona to feed him Pattern energy to back up the Scirocco >From
Hell centered on the main mass of the zombie army. Julian immediately
realized Quinn's intent and fought delaying actions. After couple of hours many
of the zombies were falling apart and all of them were winding down. Someone
tried to Trump Quinn in the middle of the weather-working; he had no
choice but to ignore it. The Mori finally bugged out back to Ys, followed by the
remnants of the zombies. Quinn managed to bag a few Mori, though every shot sent
him tumbling through the air with recoil.
While Quinn talked to Julian he was Trumped again: Artanis. There was big
trouble back in the Tir and could Quinn come through? Of course. He gave the gun
to Julian and went through.
Disaster. There'd been a major attack. Greyswandir was gone, Elladan was dead
protecting the infirmary, Lushaira was dead-- butchered-- defending Anax,
Osric was in a crazed rage and Adril was badly wounded again. Quinn's exhaustion
blew away in cold hate. Elladan had taught him to ride; he and his brother were
his real uncles. And now he was dead? And Lushaira, why would they kill her? She
was harmless. Maybe they'd faked her death. Anax stalked off in an excess of
emotion. Artanis told him why Lushaira had been killed: Revenge for Ireneon. And
worse: Artanis told him, crying all the while, that Lushaira had been cut to
pieces by Eldar, not Mori. Her own people. Quinn's own people. Artanis thought
that the Mori attack on Aramyst had been arranged to keep Quinn away from the
battle. Quinn said that they were overestimating his abilities. Osric was
outside Brigid's castle, blasting away at the wards in a form more energy than
solid. A wide swath of total destruction traced his route from Theseus' palace
to his current position. Some smoking corpses showed that he had been attacked
several times. Quinn tried to think of some way to strike at the enemy and,
hopefully, weaken Osric in the process.
Edward ran like a woman. [don't blame me, it's what he said-- RLT] He avoided the automated weapons and eventually ended up in the kitchens. He acquired appropriate clothing and joined the banquet prep crew. He spied out the area, planning retreat or escape. The banquet began. The Duchess arrived with two guests of honor: Bleys and a chestnut-haired woman at the Duchess' right hand. Edward was amazed to see that Bleys still had the bottle of Bayle's Red with him.
Where is everyone?
THINGS IN HEAVEN AND EARTH -- LOG-49
Where is everyone?
Ander stood a line-up in the police station with four uniformed cops and one bum. He heard shouting from the other side of the mirrors. He waited. Eventually he was released. Det. Dagwood told him that they couldn't hold him because their star witness had not come through.
Lora waited outside for Ander, holding Breann's sword Divinity, without which she would slide back into her dreaming persona. Breann hid half a block away.
Ander stepped out into the street and lit an Arbor Gold.
Det. Dagwood followed him, saying, "Have a good night there, Mr... Andrews. Mr.. Cavoy isn't too interested in whether or not anybody picked you out of a lineup. Give us a call if you need help."
Ander blew smoke at the detective. "Well, Dagsy, why don't you go out and find the real killer, eh Dagsy?"
"Dagsy?"
"I figure after that strip search we have a relationship."
Dagwood coughed, "I've got a couple of guys on it."
Ander/Andrews walked away and was intercepted by a woman standing half in the shadows, holding a cigarette case. "Got a light?"
Ander snatched the cig and lit it in his mouth from his own. "So did you call a taxi, dollface?" She moved and he realized that she was not Vanessa.
Breann moved closer just as a big car squealed around the corner. Three men opened up on Ander and Lora from the speeding car with tommy guns. Ander threw Lora over a rail and down the steps to a basement apartment, then threw himself flat behind a lamp post. Badly aimed bullets ricocheted everywhere. Ander picked up his dropped ciggy and checked himself over; he seemed to have escaped with only scratches and bruises.
Lora called out, "Are they gone?"
"Yeah. HEY DAGSY!" Two cops stuck their heads out to look around, then went back inside.
Lora limped up the stairs to the street. Breann walked up to them, checking to see that they were relatively unhurt. She made sure her Trump of Theseus' palace in Tir-na Nog'th was working, then pulled out her .45.
Ander turned to see a cute blond next to him, carrying a big pistol. "Hey, dollface--" She hit him. He was spun around, his last fading thought, But... she's a broad.
Breann picked Ander up, held Lora's hand and Trumped to the Tir. When she stepped through, they were gone.
Quinn and Artanis talked while watching Osric rage against the wards of the Mori fortress. Artanis didn't know what she wanted to do about her traitorous former subjects. Quinn suggested she send them a message through the Twilight, giving them a last chance to come back, conditional on bringing proof of their change of heart. Substantial proof, such as Mori heads. Artanis flinched at Quinn's bloody suggestion. He asked her about the feasibility of raising an army of dreamers and bringing them to the Tir. She said dreamers could appear in the Tir itself. Then Artanis was Trumped by Breann, who came through and started raging about losing Ander and Lora. Breann was completely uninterested in anything but her brother and niece, back to her old single-minded self. Quinn considered how to motivate and script things for his proposed dreamer army. He had to talk to Anax.
The Lens found Anax in the floating ruins of Osric's palace. Quinn teleported there and had an awkward, strained conversation with him, dancing around Kethos' claim that Lushaira had been in love with Quinn. Quinn had thought it unlikely, and Kethos an unreliable judge of matters of the heart. He realized that Anax really had been in love with the girl, and that she might have had some kind of crush on Quinn, despite the fact that they barely knew each other. Anax showed the faces of the six Eldar who had butchered her while she tried to protect him. Quinn told him the basic plan for a dreamer army; he wanted Anax and Osric ready and had no intention of talking to Osric in the man's current state. Anax gave Quinn a Trump to contact him with.
Breann searched through the ruined palace for Artanis, without success or interest in the destruction. She Trumped Artanis and questioned her about Trumping dreamers. It didn't work. Most woke up. Some stayed in the Dreamlands. Breann asked about who was harrying Ander in his dreams. Artanis didn't know, in fact she'd never heard of Ander. Breann went to show her his Trump, and couldn't find it. Searching her memory, she decided that she had dropped it in that Dreamland she had both found and lost them in.
Disgusted, Breann left the Tir and headed back into the Dreamlands. On the way she Trumped Vaughn and arranged for him to locate Ander, his real body, and take him to Deirdre in Amber. Vaughn was out in Shadow and without his Trumps so Breann lent him one of her. Next she shuffled Shadow to find, or re-create her wonderhorse Cuculain. That took six solid hours but was a success.
Breann returned to the Dreamland she'd found Ander and Lora in but they were gone and so was the Trump she'd dropped. She asked around at the nightclub Ander had been working at. The bartender directed her to Vanessa, the singer, and gave her the woman's address. Vanessa was not home. Breann broke in. She found some pictures of Ander and Vanessa but nothing else of interest. She scanned the room carefully and felt a faint residue of Trump energy on a chair, as if someone had been sitting there and Trumped out. Breann angrily and inexplicably stole all of Vanessa's expensive lingerie... then found that she couldn't bring herself to throw it away as she had intended. Worried and embarrassed, she eventually found that a Word of Magic Negation allowed her to discard the undies.
Quinn left for Aretia. There he found that Theseus was out of the tank. His regrown fingers were acting as expected; he'd been told by the doctors to avoid stressing them. He'd been helping Miriel with monitoring Gerard and swapping art and Trump techniques with her. He was shocked at the events in the Tir. Quinn checked in on Gerard himself. The legs were about one-third done and going according to schedule.
Quinn used nearly the last of his energy to make a pocket shadow with a faster internal time flow, and a small suite. He entered the pocket and staggered to bed. Twenty hours later (ten later Aretian, three later Amber or Tir time) he woke up, cleaned up, ate a huge lunch out of a cooler, hung spells and designed his dream-seeds. He emerged, carefully collapsed the pocket shadow, and left for Shadow Earth. Earth was chosen for (largely) 'modern' sensibilities regarding atrocities and for being the strongest Shadow he knew that was manipulable.
All across Western Asia, Europe, North Africa and the Americas Quinn planted the dream seeds into the pattern of Earth. War in heaven. Fallen soldier-angels (Mori) fought the unfallen (Eldar and humans) and committed atrocities. More of the Eldar fell and joined the foul Mori. Angels of Wrath guarded the last, the only remaining Angel of Mercy (Lushaira). The Angels of Wrath and the unfallen were diverted, wounded and overcome. Six newly Fallen cut the only Angel of Mercy, the only mercy that they, the dreamers would ever have, to pieces. The murderers' faces burned in the dreamers' minds, their names were known. Mercy might no longer be possible, but vengeance and justice against the Fallen --- oh yes. The Six were reserved for the Angels of Wrath, but all would point them out. The rest of the Fallen were the foes of the Host of Man who appeared in the ruined City of heaven with weapons in their hands and fire in their hearts.
Where is everyone?
Where is everyone?
Megan and Miriam walked in through the streets of Caer Beatha, looking each other over. Miriam made her mind up and made Megan an offer she couldn't refuse: if Megan would gather her kinsman (nobody actually said the name Random) Miriam would give her a way out of Caer Beatha. Megan gave it deep thought and said 'yes' within seconds, followed by 'when?' Miriam thought right away was good. Megan agreed. Miriam thought that 'he' would still be the street vendor Megan had seen earlier. Llewella reset 'him' about once a month. And they just happened to be going in the right direction.
Megan walked up to Random the street vendor, ignored his offer of a newspaper and sucker punched him, hard. She threw him over her shoulder and ran.
Breann looked for Ander in the Dreamlands, without success. She ended up at the night club where he'd been working, and waited. And drank. Drank quite a lot. Sang a few songs, despite the bartender's protests. Eventually staggered out of the club. Slept in an alley on trash and Breann-seeking enchanted undies.
She found herself in a midieval setting and soon persued by angry guardsmen. She couldn't shift shadow, her Trumps did not work and her weapons were gone. A huge demon joined the hunt and she ran headlong into the Baron...
And woke up in the Aretian clinic she'd stayed at before, breathing hard. Her possessions were beside the bed. Unfazed, she got up and dressed. A few days in the Dreamlands and nothing surprised her. She tried to Trump Vaughn, but he was blocked hellriding static. Breann Trumped to Amber and went looking for her mother.
Quinn returned to the Tir and told Artanis that the Dreamer Jihad was on its way. He told Anax the same thing. Anax had been thinking the idea through and asked Quinn exactly where he'd gone for his dreamers. Then he pointed out that Earth cast many Shadows of its own, so wouldn't the dreamers from those Shadows come as well? Quinn had been wondering when he'd run into something he'd overlooked in his vengeful tunnel vision. He warned Artanis that it was going to get crowded. Artanis told him that the Tir's current social order had come into being the last time the place had been swarmed. (Something you could have brought to my attention YESTERDAY!) Religious fanatics, hm?
Fanatic dreamers filled the streets and washed over the Mori and Magistrate sections in waves. About 40% of the Eldar elected to return to Artanis' hand. These informed her that the Mori had never come back from their raid on Aramyst as they had said they would, and only a few of them were left in the Tir. The remaining traitor Eldar were holed up in the Mori castle.
The magistrates were out in force and dying quickly, mobbed by insane Dreamers. Quinn watched a pack of Dreamer children tear a magistrate apart and shuddered. Anax was there as well as a big dragon, roasting them from the air.
A black, tarry substance began to bubble out of the ground in the center of the floating island and attack people. Quinn examined it closely through the Lens and saw that it was absorbing everything organic that it touched. It began to take on the forms of the things it had consumed. Anax had told Quinn that Osric was doing something extreme. The thing was huge, blocks wide and growing fast. Was its mind gown huge, or was it 'only' Osric at the core? The thing was now clearly the greatest threat.
Edward enjoyed the sunlight, the fresh air and the view from the slopes of Kolvir. Bleys laid a comradely hand on his shoulder and stood with him for a time. Edward felt happy, glad that his questions concerning his mother had been answered to his satisfaction, though he couldn't remember the details...
Deep inside, the paranoid core of Edward screamed.
Bleys said, "I'll explain everything to Fiona. Don't worry about it."
Where is everyone?
Megan swam away from Caer Beatha, swiftly shadow-shifting. She had Random in an organic air sack with a symbiont dripping sedatives into his bloodstream. She evaded Nathan's troops and Gennet's patrols. At the border of the Realm of Water she tried to Trump Gerard. No luck. She tried the Great Hall.
Edward now remembered that he did join Bleys via Trump when invited to. All his questions had been answered and he was much closer to his Dad. Just as they split up at the Great Hall, he to report to Deirdre and Bleys to talk to Fiona, a Trump rainbow dumped eighty gallons of seawater, Megan in semi-mermaid form and someone in an organic air-sac onto the floor of the Hall.
Edward drew his sword, yelled "Look out Dad!" and winced as his feet got wet.
The mermaid had Megan's face and quickly shifted into her normal form. The sac parted and a slimy Random flopped out . "These were new boots!" exclaimed Edward, "They were a gift from my mother! -- I think." Megan, wet and naked, smiled at Edward, tossed Random over her shoulder and headed for the stairs. Edward called out, "Megan!" She stopped and looked back."Just wanted you to turn around."
Megan strutted off. Edward wiggled his eyebrows at Bleys. "Was that Random?" asked Bleys."I suppose it might have been intended. If it's going to happen on a regular schedule I certainly intend to be here."
Bleys snorted and left. "Later."
Edward wiped his boots on an exquisite carpet, then went to Deirdre's office and found Breann there knocking on the door. "Breann, you look terrible," he said sympathetically.
Breann fixed him with a light glare. "Yeah, nice to see you too, Edward. You're fairly lucky I'm going to need your help soon."
"I guess that is lucky," said Edward, not at all sure that it was so.
"Remember the time we spent in Arden, hunting people like dogs?"
"That was fairly fun. Could have done with regular meals and showers though."
The door opened and Deirdre looked at them. "Breann. Edward. How nice to see you together... Come in. Sit down. Did you come in together?"
Edward told Deirdre that he was simply reporting in and that things had gone well. Breann had to tell her mother that she was worried about brother Ander and had lost his Trump. That she had seen Lora but had not been able to rescue her. On the plus side, Lora had given Breann a mental map of her current location and at last report had not been seen by the Baron.
Deirdre put Breann in charge of recovering Lora, evidently impressed by Breann's liquidation of Ireneon. Breann, who had been hoping that Edward would come up with a plan, suggested that he would be a great help. Edward, much alarmed, tried to think of a viable way out. Deirdre tried to Trump Ander. It worked. He was fine, in Verinau and putting the last of the new fleet into the water. Lora was not reachable by Trump.
They threw around ideas about sneaking into Ys for the rescue. Edward refused to consider letting Breann teleport them -- him -- eight or ten times. Scudamore the Steward brought Deirdre the message that Megan had arrived with a guest and was waiting in the infirmary.
Soon-to-be-Queen Deirdre told Breann to shower and find her for a lot of paper signing, and to get her head wound rebandaged. She instructed Edward to stay available.
Quinn asked Artanis to back him up, then contacted the all-consuming black goo with the Lens. No Osric. Lots of screaming victims and other voices... assimilated victims? Talking... chanting 'All life is one. We will be one,' over and over. Artanis didn't have any ideas. Quinn tried to get Osric's attention with a solid psychic jolt.
He awoke moments later with a headache, lying face up on the ground. Whatever Osric had become, it was strong. Without bothering to get up, he Trumped Anax. Anax was busy toasting magistrates and dodging Eater drones.
Anax didn't have any ideas either, but agreed that Osric had to be stopped. He said (mentally, as dragons speak) that Osric had probably lost himself in the assumed form. He himself, he said reluctantly, had once spent twelve years as a snowshoe rabbit. (Quinn made a mental note: don't learn to shapeshift.) The drones forced Anax away from the Magistracy, and the Eldar were still bottled up in Brigid's castle, so he joined Quinn and Artanis.
They dithered and accelerated the evacuation. They worried that it could get to the ground and eat EVERYTHING, maybe even the Dreamlands and drive everyone insane. Quinn Trumped Fiona and asked her about channeling raw Pattern-force. Too debilitating and best done from the Tir Pattern where the flying drones would mob any one attempting to walk it.
Quinn suggested roasting it. The city was going fast and even the Magistrates and the traitor Eldar were evacuating by air. The Eater moved a lot and constantly changed shape. Movement equaled heat, but it wasn't radiating a lot of heat into the air, so it must be using the floating isle as a heat sink. So.. make a huge, thirty or forty mile diameter lens (a low power effect, bending light, so the size was barely possible) and cook it. Artanis would throw a shield around the isle to keep them off the surface. A Plan. They didn't have an hour for Quinn to hang the spell, they had minutes, so Quinn teleported off to Aretia and his 7:1-time pocked shadow.
Quinn returned in under ten minutes, joining his mother on her flying swanship which, it turned out, could really move when it had to. Artanis held a shield around the island; dripping sweat she told him to hurry. Someone Trumped him as he started to chant -- a magistrate. "Lord Quinn! We propose an allia--" cut off as Quinn psyche-punched him. He cast the spell and started playing the focus over the Eater, which burned surprisingly well. Artanis collapsed. Anax added his psychic powers to Quinn's. They burned the fliers out of the air and slagged the surface of the floating island, including all the palaces. With their last strength they ran the focus over the fleeing magistrate and traitor Mori airships, bursting the gasbags. As they collapsed, still linked, Quinn told the swanship captain "Run" and Anax said "Away".
Deirdre looked at Random, then at Megan and said, "This is a welcome surprise. Where did you get this idea?"
"I left just after the arrival of the new ships."
"This was your own idea?"
"No... I was asked to do it."
Deirdre gave her a look that said, 'More'.
"Uncle Gerard asked me."
Breann walked in on them and examined Random. "When do you throw him on the Pattern?"
"You're funny," Deirdre replied.
"I'm serious. It's the only way to get his memory back."
"He had another personality imposed over his own," Megan explained.
Deirdre: "By whom?"
"Your sister, of course," answered Megan, making a face as she thought of Llewella.
Breann found an an attendant to bandage her head.
Deirdre frowned, "I suppose I should talk to Gerard but he's insensible --getting his legs regrown."
"Interesting. Is it working?"
"I suppose so. I haven't received any bad reports." Deirdre turned to Breann, "So let's go sign papers now, won't that be fun?"
"What kind of papers?"
"You'll see." Deirdre informed Megan that she was scheduled to participate in a naval action against the Baron, then told her she would find her a Trump of Miriel so that she could check on Gerard.
The papers Breann signed formally acknowledged her as an heir of Queen Deirdre I and her new status as Princess of Kolvir. She was told to attend the coronation in two weeks and to bring in Ander if she saw him. Unconscious if necessary. Breann's told her mother that she planned to have Lora back in time for the coronation and would be taking a trip with Edward.
Deirdre delivered the Trump to Megan and discussed what to do for Random. Megan decided to watch him for a while, then check on Gerard in Aretia.
Breann and Edward plotted their sneaky way into Ys and Lora's rescue. She was mortified and Edward tickled to conclude that their best chance was to disguise her as a sacrificial maiden. Dressed in filmy robes. Weaponless. With Edward holding her things: Trumps, sword, slingshot... Further, should they encounter any soldiers Breann would have to act appropriately.
"Don't enjoy this, Edward."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
"I'm going to hang some spells."
"Did I mention that the sacrifices were usually gagged?"
Breann reluctantly showed Edward the mental map that Lora had provided. He took a few mental... liberties.
Deirdre ordered Breann to give Edward one of her extra Breann Trumps, and provided her with one of Edward.
"I appreciate the trust with which this was given," said Edward when Deirdre had left. "So if I concentrate on it I have access to your mind. Your weak mind." His smile was amazingly sinister.
In the infirmary, Megan stared at Miriel's Trump. At the edge of contact, Random woke up and leapt out of the cot and on to her, fighting like his life depended on it. Megan desperately tried to fend him off as one of the doors opened to admit Fiona, with Bleys behind her.
Where is everyone?
- Ander is in Verinau
Quinn dragged himself up from his exhausted faint and looked around. He was still on Artanis' swanship, she and Anax were beginning to stir. Near as he could tell the Eater drones had not made it to the surface, something the reports from Artanis' people seemed to confirm. He was still too tired to call up the Lens and check personally.
When Anax was fully awake, he and Quinn talked.
Before Anax left, Quinn gave him a Trump to contact him with.
Ander, sailing to Amber with Vaughn and Wagner the Grendel on the Allegro, found himself edgy and snapping at people for trivial things. It occurred to him that he was acting just like Breann. Dworkin's Pelican, sailing with them, rendezvoused with the gun ship Wave Whisper and then Trumped away. The Allegro and Stiletto Trumped to the Hand of Oberon off Cabra, then sailed into Amber port and docked.
Edward and Breann worked out their equipage and costuming for their mission into Ys. Breann tried on successively skimpier Virgin Sacrifice outfits until they found one Edward allowed would do. As they rode out of the Castle they heard crashing glass behind and above them. Two people -- Megan and a man -- fell fighting out of the infirmary windows and hit the battlements below with a loud meaty thump. Edward thought that Megan might still have been naked. He wanted to see but Breann insisted they leave.
Ander and Vaughn checked in with the port authority. Ander left Vaughn in charge and was off to see his family at the estate of Baron Darby. Vaughn was left at a loss as to how to deal with the presense of Wagner (ten feet tall, furred and scaled, fanged, well educated, a fine classical violin player) -- he was sure that leaving him in city wouldn't work (he imagined a wake of shocked and frightened townspeople wielding pitchforks and torches), so he ordered a very large covered wagon, and took it to the Castle himself, where he then presented 'the Shipmaster of the Allegro' to Regent Dierdre who, to her credit, didn't look too shocked... or ill. Oddly, it never occured to Vaughn to leave Wagner on the ship.
In the infirmary, Random jumped Megan, sending his bed flying into Fiona. Megan pressed into the blizzard of punches to her face, chest and belly, trying to grapple, shifting to toughen her self up. He kicked her, hard, but she managed to catch his ankle. Thrashing in the broken supplies and shelving, Random used her face as a speed bag, then switched to strangulation. Megan held on to the ankle and hit Random in the face one handed. Somehow he threw them across the room and landed on top; Megan hit her head, Random sprained something and both lay stunned for a moment. They resumed fighting even harder, though much sloppier and fell out the window, still choking and punching... and hit. HARD.
Megan woke in the infirmary with her left hand in a cast. Random was unconscious in the bed to her left, Fiona and Bleys sitting on the one to her right. Fiona kidded her. Deirdre came in and kidded her some more. Vaughn entered, accompanied by Wagner, and added his comments; he introduced Wagner as the shipmaster for the Allegra. Once they left to let her rest, Megan responded to many criticisms of her appearance by shifting the swelling in her face. Then she concentrated on accelerated healing and after three hours felt fit to walk about.
She walked slowly, wincing, trying to avoid her mother. So naturally she went straight to her, in the library. Fiona was sitting on a couch not far from where Wagner and Vaughn played chess, patting the cushion beside her. Megan sighed silently and sat down. "So you brought Random back, did you?" asked Fiona, then touched the back of Megan's head and continued the conversation mentally. Megan told Fiona of the adventure, and of becoming an initiate of the strange Pattern, or power source, of Caer Beatha. They determined that the shapeshifting enhancements did not work in Amber, aside from the vast array of memorized shapes she'd acquired. They discussed Megan's dazed condition in Beatha, and the occasional flashes of clarity. Fiona told her she was disturbed at the supernatural activity centering on Megan, especially the Unicorn's interest. The Unicorn had never been known to show interest in anyone like her.
He walked into the Dream Palace unchallenged, followed by his floating spheres. He moved in a straight line and the palace moved to accomodate him of itself, changing views, times of day, color and intensity of light, architecture... interesting and, and irritating dammit. Sometimes he felt he had no Eldar poetry in his soul. (Also annoying, magistrates moving about on official duties, taking up valuable space, breathing valuable air...) Quinn found Artanis in a twilit courtyard and did the full formal bow, then congratulated her on her new authority. They talked a bit and she let him know, without saying anything, that she was resuming her usual neutrality and near-isolation. There'd be no spying on the dreams of Amber's enemies unless Quinn or Breann did it themselves. She'd 'awakened' Greyswandir, she said. He knew better than to ask for its return. Greyswandir was Tir-na Nog'th's greatest and native instrument of power, taken by Dworkin in the dim and misty. It would be like Deirdre giving the Jewel of Judgement away. (ed. Actually, it would be like Dworkin doing that, which he did... snicker.) He told her he'd research the Eater and share any cure with her, then took his leave.
Bantering with Edward two miles down the road to Arden, Breann suddenly realized that they could simply walk the Pattern and go directly to Lora. Breann looked through her Trumps for the one for the Great Hall. It was missing, replaced by one for the courtyard! She started to accuse Edward, then remembered that both Deirdre and Fiona had been about when she was trying on disguises. Fiona could have made her forget about the Pattern option, despite Breann's two previous rescues using that method, and Deirdre might well have put her up to the Trump swap so as to keep Breann from riding horses through the castle. Breann swallowed her anger and Trumped them to the courtyard. They discussed plans for getting out of Ys. Edward argued that Breann should walk the Pattern and Trump him to the center. Much heated discussion and mild insults ending with Breann punching Edward in the face -- lightly -- and stepping onto the Pattern without Edward. When finished she sat down to rest while Edward tried to taunt her into Trumping him immediately. Rested, she Trumped Edward to her and they argued about how to go -- holding hands or whatever. After a couple of minutes of this Dworkin popped up behind them, slapped the backs of their heads, yelled, "Will you children behave?!" and was gone to the sound of an immense door slamming.
"What the hell is that?!" yelped Edward.
"That's YES, SIR." answered Breann. She grabbed his hand and concentrated. They vanished...
And, returning to the campaign next week
(drumroll please):Breann, sent by the Pattern to Lora's side, appeared in a dimly lit bedroom. Lora sat up on the bed as Breann flicked on her zippo lighter. Lora was gagged, tied, and struggling to tell Breann to Get Out. The walls glowed purple and Breann fell unconscious.
Quinn secured the diamond spheres containing the
last of the Eater abomination in a remote installation and surrounded it with
gamma-ray laser cannon under AI control.
Next he Trumped Deirdre and was pulled through to the infirmary. He saw a
Grendel, ten feet of curdled UGLY and jumped a bit. Nobody else seemed to be
worried, so he relaxed. Vaughn introduced It as Wagner, ship master to the
Allegro. Megan and Random were in the nearest beds, both of them beat to hell.
Deirdre told him that the two had fought to a draw. Go Megan.
Quinn told Deirdre that Osric was now missing, that Brigid and the Mori
(seriously reduced in numbers) were all in the Amber region (or maybe Chaos) and
likely to stay. He had a fairly long briefing to give her, Fiona and Julian if
possible and suggested they do it in Aretia. It had a convenient 3.5:1 time flow
and he had pressing business there. She agreed and said she wanted Lysander in
on it. Quinn had no Lysander Trump, so she would arrange transport.
Quinn checked his rooms to see how the 'wixer' egg was doing. His rooms were
trashed. Most of the tables, the clothes closet, the desk were broken and partly
eaten. Smaller items were scattered around. Only the bed had been spared and a
bright red, leather skinned cat-weasel with small batwings was curled up in the
middle of it, sleeping. As Quinn stared at it, it awoke, looked him in the eye
and piped QUINN! QUINN! SKREEEEKK! It flowed off the bed and climbed Quinn to
perch on his shoulder, gripping a little too hard with very sharp claws. Quinn
shared the discomfort with... Kirkeleon. He (or she, Quinn had no intention of
sexing it) took the hint and got petted. As Quinn's ears stopped ringing he
could hear someone -- Bleys? -- yelling complaints from down the hall. He dug a
leather riding jacket out of what was left of the closet and put it on. Better.
Fiona stuck her head in and chuckled. Quinn performed introductions for her and
Kirkeleon, then asked her if she was busy. She wasn't, and allowed him to take
her with him to Aretia. He showed her the spheres and shared memories of what
the Eater had done. Fiona was willing to help research the stuff in Quinn's
facilities -- it was not the kind of thing to take to her labs in the caves
beneath Castle Amber. They agreed to an orbital facility.
Miriel Trumped Quinn with the news that Gerard's feet were now complete and he
was cycling out of the vat. Miriel pulled them through and Theseus, out of view
to Miriel's side until then, saw Fiona and she saw him. Theseus couldn't speak.
Fiona blushed red and said, almost stammering, that she had to 'check on the
diamond globe things' as Quinn mimed 'Sorry, Oops' out of Theseus'
view. Theseus sat down numbly.
Quinn guided Miriel over to the Gerard's vat as she asked, "What was that?
And what is that," looking at Kirkeleon.
"This little guy is Kirkeleon; the Trump-decorated egg that Dworkin gave me
hatched. Kirkeleon, meet Miriel." Quinn thought friend at the
wixlet, petted him and stepped nearer his daughter.
Miriel reached out cautiously. Kirkeleon deigned to allow her to pet his head.
"Quinn!"
"Fiona and Theseus had an affair a while ago."
"But she's his aunt!"
"Yes, but they don't feel like aunts, and they've never acted like aunts to
Theseus -- well, to any of us. They're more like distant cousins, emotionally.
Deirdre doesn't feel like an aunt to me."
"You have a thing for Deirdre?!"
"Um..." Quinn hadn't really intended for that sort of implication, but
his Freudian slipped. "I suppose there's an attraction." Gerard's eyes
opened, saving Quinn from further embarrassment. "Welcome back to the land
of the conscious."
Gerard was smiling and watching his new toes flex, "Thank you. It looks
like there's more of me to welcome."
The course of new love had not gone well for Lysander and Empress Daelyn. Her councilors hated him with a passion and kept sending him off to battles in the hopes he would be killed. Daelyn had walked in on an innocent but guilty-looking scene between 'Sander and a pretty maid. She was mad that he was never around, never mind that it wasn't his idea to be off with the army. The councilors tried to convince her (with some success) that Amber was using Aramyst as a source of cannon fodder. They weren't sleeping together. And deep heart-to-heart talks were not something Sander was good at.
He was, in short, bummed.
Sander felt a Trump contact and grudgingly took it. It was Deirdre, oh hell. She
wanted a land attack on Ys to match the naval one she was preparing. Mutter,
mutter. With Aramystan support. Mutter, mutter. Plus, she wanted him to attend a
briefing Quinn was giving in Aretia in a day -- please Trump him. Sander
couldn't think of a way out of it. Mutter, mutter. Nod.
Daelyn caught the end of the contact. "So who was that?" she asked
bitterly.
"Deirdre."
"So what did she need us to do?"
Mumble.
"Wanted you to what?"
Mumble, "Wanted me to do a family thing. Quinn, Julian, Breann."
"Do they want our army again?"
"They're having a meeting."
"A meeting about what?"
"They want to help us with the fighting and killing."
"Is this a new fight."
"No, we're already involved... the Baron."
"Oh, well be sure and tell everyone I said 'hi'."
Breann regained consciousness tied to a big rock.
Night time, a half moon in the sky. Forest smells. She was wearing a white shift
-- like the ones Edward had pressed on her, only much thinner. She was groggy,
but heard small sounds of soldiers hiding in the trees. Wings hid the moon as
something big, bat-winged and ugly stooped at her. Oh shit! She used a Word of
power and broke her bonds, dove out of the way and it struck the rock rather
than her chest. It screamed, basso profundo, and a net flashed over
them. Breann eluded the net, grabbed on the weighted harpoons attached to it's
corners, used the Word again to break it off at the metal head, and ran into the
woods. Shouts of Get it! Get her! from all around her as she found a
sword... conveniently, her sword, and traded with him: she got the sword, he got
a broken harpoon shaft in his chest. A ricocheting bolt struck her in her right
buttock as she ran, and the shift shredded to nothing among the undergrowth.
Despite the pain, she moved through the woods like a ghost on speed. She evaded
or out ran most of them and had time to shift shadow enough to 'find' her wrist
rocket on the next soldier she killed. Then her dagger, off a Mori. She pulled
the bolt out without screaming. She had enough time then to 'find' her horse
with the rest of her gear on it.
Breann told her horse, "Let's find Lora." Cuculain launched off. As
soon as they cleared the trees they were noticed by three of the flying demons,
two behind and one ahead. Her pistol ammo was inert here. The pocket rocket
didn't make them blink. She struck the one ahead with a lightning bolt -- her
only lightning bolt -- and got its attention. The freezing spell didn't slow
them at all. Cuculain was faster than the demons. When they had some room she
tried to edit them out with no effect. She couldn't shift out of Ys, if this was
Ys, either. Eventually Cuculain lost them. Breann might have altered
probabilities enough to affect things; she sure had tried. They found a clearing
and hid. She tried Lora's Trump; it went cold, but nothing more.
Theseus gathered his courage and Trumped Fiona.
Theseus Trumped Fiona and then got together with her privately. (ie. Rey and Doyce in another room, and no, I don't want to know.)
Quinn settled Gerard into his rooms and made arrangements for the meeting with Deirdre and company, including a buffet fit for sixty hungry human gourmets. He recorded his memories of the Eater and edited them for presentation.
Edward told the Pattern to take him to Lora, not
the annoying Breann, then realized that 'Lora' might be too vague.
He was in a clearing in a low tropical rainforest. The remnants of a stone path
extended before him through a capstone arch, and behind him only a few feet.
"Breann? Lora?" No answer save the deep chirping of... rottweiler
sized crickets? Not good. He walked forward, carefully staying on the
stones, under the archway, to a circular lawn with a stone plinth in the center.
A big, rangy man was kneeling at the plinth, no, the sarcophagus. Edward cleared
his throat.
The man turned and stood very fast, cloak swirling. He had dark auburn hair, a
moustache and lots of presence. "Who are you?"
"I am Edward."
"Give me somethin' more, Edward. What's your business here?"
"I was following a young woman in a white diaphanous gown."
"I haven't seen anyone. Does the woman have a name? If I run into her I can
tell her you were looking for her."
"Breann."
The man's eyebrow twitched slightly, "Really?"
"Or not, as the case may be."
"That's very interesting. I'll keep an eye open for her. You were both
coming here?" He eased towards Edward.
"Well, I was following her." Edward casually put his hand to a hidden
dagger.
"You were separated?"
"Yes."
"You were looking for someone?" The man asked, stopping ten feet away
from Edward and assuming a theatrically dominant pose.
The man seemed vaguely familiar. "Well, yes. We were coming to visit a
woman named Lora."
"I'm not sure you're looking for the same one, but read the inscription
over there."
'LORA' was clear but the other words were not. The bas relief on the top was of
a woman in early middle age. "I don't think this is the woman I was looking
for --" he said as he turned, but the stranger was gone.
Edward tried Breann's Trump. It didn't even cool. The Castle Amber Trump cooled
slowly. He Trumped back (the normally half-second transition was ten seconds of
arctic cold) and moved stealthily towards the Pattern room, having decided not
to trouble Deirdre with this little incident. He congratulated himself on not
walking the Pattern earlier, else he would scarcely be able to do so now.
Megan woke up in the Castle library (a first),
rested, refreshed and bright eyed. Fiona was gone. She was ravenous and went
straight to the breakfast room just off the kitchens. Vaughn and Wagner were
there -- she was so hungry that even the sight of Wagner didn't have much of an
impact -- eating equal sized servings, though Wagner outweighed Vaughn two or
three to one. Megan ordered a huge plate of NO SEAFOOD.
Vaughn paused eating to ask, "So, are you back in time for the big naval
hullabaloo? I'm involved."
"Then we get to use the new cool ships!"
"Yes. And we get to fight the Baron."
"I can do that."
"Yes, I heard that."
"When's this going to happen?"
"We should find out at the family meeting, at Aretia."
Breann had a confused dream of floating in a black
void, stars, a sacrificial platform with complex pentagram, Lora with a big
knife, running into a wall -- a huge Trump...
And woke up holding Lora's Trump. Which wouldn't cool. Which /wasn't/ cool.
Breann-style, she ignored the dream and set off for Lora. By the landmarks she
was two days away.
Sander gathered his things for the meeting and departed. Once away from Aramyst he took the rare opportunity to wear his chosen garb -- the costume of the one True Do-Boy of which all other are but Shadow. It felt good. He caught Quinn's railroad at the edge of Arden and rode first class with the unlimited pass he'd got for a wedding present. He ate a lot of anything he wanted, slept half the day... His only worry was that Daelyn had a Trump of him.
Megan dressed for a family meeting and accompanied Vaughn in escorting Wagner to his ship. Wagner went up the plank very carefully, apparently afraid of water and mistrustful of the plank's strength.
Deirdre met Edward entering the castle.
"Edward, are you going to -- Edward why are you here?"
"I left some supplies here. Can't stop, left some children on the stove,
gotta run..."
Deirdre, Julian, Caine, Bleys(!), Flora, Megan, Vaughn and Victor met in Garnath. Deirdre Trumped Quinn and sent everyone through, coming through herself in an entrance perfectly lit and framed. (She'd told Quinn where to stand when receiving them.)
Sander transferred twice to reach Aretia and, once there, was red-carpeted through to a conference room with a huge buffet and no relatives. He dug in. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
Edward appeared just behind Breann, a thousand feet
high. He clawed for a grip on Cuculain's saddle but Breann elbowed him
automatically, then grabbed his wrist as she realized who he was. Cuculain
staggered in the air from the misbalanced weights as Breann hauled Edward up
behind her.
"How nice of you to drop in," she said acidly. "I was expecting
you sooner. Was there some problem with understanding what the Pattern
does?"
Cuculain was descending steadily. "Can't you
make this thing fly higher?" Edward complained.
Breann raised a fist. "Yes I can."
"So where's Lora in all this? Did you lose her again?"
Breann refrained from booting Edward off, but only because they weren't low
enough... yet. They landed safely.
The doors opened up as Sander started on a
drumstick. Dad (Gerard) rolled in. He had legs again.
"Where's the little woman, the Boss?" asked Gerard jovially.
"At home, thank God."
"Who got hold of you and told you about this?"
"Aun-Ty Deir-Druh."
Miriel walked in, followed by Fiona --Theseus holding the door for her, and
Quinn. The air shimmered before Quinn and he started pulling the others in.
Sander noted that Vaughn had beefed up.
Breann and Edward discussed their next move.
"How good are your magical talents?" asked Breann.
"I know a little of this and that, a few cantrips." Edward thought
they were near the Thing in the Pillar.
"Be straight. Our lives may depend on it."
"I know some Words of Power. That's about the extent of it."
"We're going to run into some people who can throw spells around--"
"Let's avoid them."
"OK."
Edward looks around. "This area looks familiar. So let's go this--"
"I want something to kill," Breann said, deadly serious.
Edward frowned. "Unless you want to go in straight while I go
around--"
"You want to leave me again."
"You left me sweetheart!" said Edward, annoyed a constant
interruptions.
They argued. And argued. Still traveling, Breann tried to pick up a mount for
Edward, but gave up an hour later empty-handed: It was really hard to find a
mount that horrible and still breathing. Edward found a mount himself, his old
mount Muerte, (which he'd left in Ys last time.
They moved around the area of the Thing in the
Pillar Central, stealthily.
"What happened to your shift?" Edward asked.
Breann was instantly steaming. "Funny you should ask that..."
Edward laughed, nervously. "I thought that was the plan. I dress as the bad
guy. You're the nubile virgin sacrifice."
"I'm not sure we were pretending, Edward."
"Well, I wasn't sure you'd qualify. I didn't want to pry."
Quinn briefed the family about events in Tir-na
Nog'th and showed them the images of the Eater and what it was capable of. None
of them knew anything about it. None had any good ideas. They were more
interested in what he knew
of the Mori.
She's wearing that perfume, Theseus thought. Task at hand,
task at hand. He distracted himself by running idly through his Trump deck.
Some of them were active, that shouldn't have been.
Quinn made his case for Anaximander and got a 'maybe'. Deirdre wanted to get a
consensus on it. They thought that Ander would not be a problem but that Breann
would. No surprise.
Deirdre had Megan tell them of Random's return and the situation in Caer Beatha,
the former Rebma. She gave them a brief description of Moire and Llewella's new
subordinates there. They were hostile but not apparently looking to go to war,
at least not soon. Megan looked at her mother Fiona and decided to not mention
the strangeness of the Beathan Pattern.
Deirdre then announced that since the new fleet was completed we would soon be
assaulting the Baron's forces. Scout vessels would locate lone enemy ships and
Trump in warships to annihilate them. The Baron had a limited number of ships
and crewmen; we would destroy them.
She wanted also to attack by land at the same time and requested and required
the help of several family members at that end. She wanted to stage the assault
from Shadow Aramyst. Julian would command it but the details were still up in
the air.
Participation was voluntary, but everyone was to volunteer for one or the other.
Breann and Edward were already on a mission and might not make it back in time.
With that, the meeting dispersed, largely to the buffet.
Quinn took Sander aside and told him about the Twilight traces all over Aramyst
Palace. Did they have any sort of sorcerers corps there. Quinn wanted to teach
Aramystan mages Twilight-blocking, sourceless illumination and zombi dehydration
spells. Sander said he'd arrange for Quinn to meet with Daelyn.
"It was terrible," Edward orated in Breann's direction around a small fire that night, "There I was, standing at the center of the Pattern... and I was a bit hungry. I remembered a small cafe off in Shadow. And of course my favorite courtesan lived right across the street, I could hardly visit the town and not see her; it would be insulting..."
Shadow Aretia (terraformed Mars, 1/6 g), QED main complex, secure meeting suites: The actual meeting is over, family members circulate or try to prove wrong Quinn's contention that they have "plenty of food" at the buffet.
Quinn invited Sander to use the VR gym and the Twilight-adept combat program.
Megan bedeviled Gerard with complaints that he had not been available for Trump calls when she was in Caer Beatha.
"Marital problems?" asked Quinn.
"I've got a wife. That's the problem," answered Sander.
Quinn shrugged. "Never been married. Get a divorce?"
"It was marry her or get my pecker cut off. I really can't imagine what the anullment penalties might be."
Gerard was apologetic. "I realize there was a problem. I thought it would go more quickly."
"I understand. I just had a little problem there. And I kind of walked the Water Pattern."
"But you're OK?"
"Mom says I am." Megan munched on a crispy strawberry pastry. "It got messy when I got back."
"You were in some kind of fight?"
"He was mind-controlled and excitable."
"In the infirmary? You're doing this to me on purpose, aren't you." Gerard wheeled himself over to talk to Fiona.
Theseus tapped Quinn on the shoulder. "Quinn, let's take a walk."
Quinn turned. Theseus looked very serious. "OK -- Sander: if you want to do the VR then talk to a wall. It will direct you."
Theseus led Quinn out into a hall well away from everyone else. "In my experience in the Hall of Mirrors, I was warned several times against Flora. I've tried to keep an eye on her ever since. Flora's and Caine's Trumps were active during the meeting. I traced Flora's -- she was letting Sand listen."
Quinn thought for a moment. "About the only thing I know about Sand is that, during my own experience in the Hall of Mirrors, she seemed to be cooperating with the guy who shot me."
Theseus shrugged. "I don't know much about her either."
"You'll be talking to Fiona?"
"She's next on my list."
"I should probably let Deirdre know."
Theseus shot him a look. "I don't trust her. I have my reasons."
Quinn nodded, acknowledging but not agreeing.
Theseus found that Julian had returned to Arden. He Trumped him and arranged to be part of Julian's forces in the upcoming battle.
Megan intercepted Quinn in the meeting suite. "I'd like to try that VR thing too. Will the Mori hit us at sea?"
"They haven't yet, but they could. Try it out."
"Thanks. One thing to do first." Megan looked around, located Deirdre and her mother Fiona and selected a path well out of Fiona's sight.
Quinn talked to Deirdre and let her know about Flora and Sand. Deirdre said they would just have to watch her.
Edward woke to the smell of coffee. And food. Breann was cooking, apparently cheerful. "I'll take one with cream and sugar!"
Breann smiled at him. Edward blinked, then winced as he arose. "There was a large rock under my back," he complained.
Breann set a plate down in front of him. "Here, let me massage that out."
Edward ignored that astonishing offer and cautiously checked out his plate. Looked good, smelled good. So did the coffee. He courageously sampled it. No taste of poison or laxatives. "And how did you sleep?"
"Remarkably well."
Edward examined the dark rings under her eyes.
"But thanks for asking."
"Are you sure you're in fine fettle this morning? You look a might peaked."
"I feel as fresh as a spring flower."
Pleasure and paranoia warred in Edward's heart.
Smiling, Breann asked, "So, Edward, where are we going today?"
"Perhaps you should take point and I'll cover the rear?"
"Excellent."
"No. I'll be point and you can cover our backs"
"Whatever you think best. You're the planner."
Edward almost sighed. "You take point and I'll guard the flank. We're heading in that direction."
Megan found Deirdre and acquired a Trump of Ander.
Sander was taking a break. The regular Mori types were not much of a problem but the 'lieutenants' were kicking his ass. He was using the break to go through the documentation holograms that covered optimal firing patterns -- they didn't seem so boring after sustaining a couple bruises -- and had settled on a large black-powder (all that would work in his adopted Shadow Aramyst) shotgun constructed entirely of heavy steel, suitable for clubbing water buffalo to death.
Theseus interrupted him to arrange a later meeting.
Quinn interrupted via screen to ask if Aramyst's Imperial Palace had chandeliers. (Gah?)
Megan showed up and joined Sander for round two. Sander found that he was getting his timing down. Megan took some time to catch up; she was increasingly annoyed that she couldn't shapeshift her bruises away (one of the downsides of Shadow Aramyst, or upsides, if you one of Osric's least favorite nephews). After a time, they conquered the 'lieutenant' level. The system refused to let them take on 'commander' level any way but two on one. Hours later they staggered out of the gym and followed the wall arrows to the baths. They had finally managed something akin to a draw.
"I hit him," Sander said with some pride.
Megan grinned tiredly, "I hit him too."
Quinn ordered spring-loaded diamond-caltrop-chain chandelier nets from the nanofabrication department. Smiling an evil smile.
Edward and Breann arrived at their destination, a fortress carved out of a high mesa. There was no activity around it, no travelers, no nothing. They discussed -- argued-- ways of getting in: flying in on Cuculan, climbing, teleporting. Breann was uncharacteristically deferential.
"I am not the planner. I provide the magic behind the grand scheme," she said.
"We're doomed."
After looking the top of the cliff over carefully through a spyglass, Breann teleported them there -- barely, fading in and out for a moment. They both puked their guts out, thankful that there was no one to fight right away. They recovered and looked around. The fortress mesa consisted of an outer ring and an inner cylinder/tower about two-thirds (fifty meters) as high and thirty meters in diameter. Walkways connected it to the outer ring at the top and at mid-height. There was considerable patrol activity of the 'shambling undead' sort along the inner walkways of the fortress.They nodded at each other in perfect agreement: trap.