"...those mysteries, which Heaven will not have the Earth
know."
-- Coriolanus, Act 4, Scene 2 (Wm. Shakespeare)
I felt Eric and Corwin while riding #44 - Torlak's Darling Lili between Starwhirl Haven and Diva. It was a sort of hiccough in the Pattern with spooky 'somebody's-walking-on-my-grave' overtones. Father had warned me that the Amber succession struggle was nearing a crisis. I immediately thought, "Who died?" and dug out my few Trumps to find out.
I tried Julian's card first: nothing, no cooling at all. Maybe bad, maybe he was just off in some Trump-barred area.. I tried Gerard's card next and sloowwly reached him. He was heavily narcotized, barely able to register the contact. Bad. Benedict wasn't taking calls. Caine I barely knew; maybe later. Fiona? Either she already knew or she was dead.
I told Torlak I was leaving his train, assembled a spell and Lensed to Aretia for Amber gear, repeated the process and Lensed to Julian's -Father's- fort nearest the City. Some of the skeleton crew of cripples and old reservists knew me. They told me that Bleys and Corwin had attacked Amber with a large force equipped with working firearms and cannon, Bleys through Arden and Corwin by sea. There had been a big battle outside the City, won by the defenders. Corwin was dead and Bleys probably dead. No word on our side's casualties.
I rode to Garnath on a borrowed horse and located the remnant of Julian's troops. They were helping with burial and medical details. It looked like half the army of Amber was dead on the field, along with a lot of Bleys' big red-skinned soldiers. Ranger Captain Leif (all the colonels were dead) gave me the bad news: Father was in a coma after being hit with assault rifle and a machine gun fire, LOTS of it. Eric was dead, Caine lost with his ship and Gerard had lost his legs. Deirdre was acting regent.
I took Cpt. Leif and an honor guard with me to the Castle to verify my identity and was thereby sent to Prince Gerard in the infirmary. Despite being forewarned, it was a shock to see Gerard in a wheel chair with both legs gone at the knees. Father in a coma was even worse. Julian's armor was in a corner; I couldn't see any holes but it looked like Gerard had battered it with a pick for half an hour. Gerard was in relatively good spirits and glad to see me. He had a sheathed sword across his knees: Grayswandir. Probably not Corwyn's preferred heir but Gerard had certainly paid for it.
Gerard briefed me on current events. Of the remaining family, Benedict, Brand and most of my cousins were still off in Shadow. Fiona had been sent away by Eric; banishment or a mission, nobody knew. Llewella was in Rebma and so was Random -but he had been arrested by Queen Moire.
A young guy wearing beach clothes walked in on us; Gerard introduced him as his son Lysander. My attempt at surfer slang elicited a mild insult in return. What kennel was he whelped in? Gerard was embarrassed in a resigned way. Evidently, this was normal behavior for Lysander.
Gerard had examined Julian earlier, I scanned him with the Lens as well. Father's injuries included smashed ribs, several broken vertebrae, his right arm partially riped off, and battered internal organs. His skull was intact but the spine badly broken just below the neck.
"I have to get him out of here," I told Gerard. "I have a good facility for microsurgery, very high-tech, so we can at least put everything back where it belongs. You are welcome to use it as well. Cloning does not work well on the family -not on me, at least- but at the very least we can fix you up with the best possible prosthetics."
"Thank you but no," Gerard answered. "The surgeons did a good job with the legs and I can get around well enough in the chair. I don't want to leave Deirdre alone in Amber." I thought he really didn't want to leave Amber alone with Deirdre. Good point.
I started to think ahead. "Do you have any of Corwin's gunpowder you can spare me? I might be able to trace it back to where he found it, or work out how he made it." If anyone else had it we had to secure a supply for ourselves. By "we" I meant me, Father, Gerard and Benedict.
Gerard frowned. "For that, you will need Deirdre's permission. Also, you should let her know you are taking Julian away." I was pleased that he trusted my intentions. Of course, should I murder my helpless father, Gerard would kill me. So would Benedict. Hell, so would Mother. She likes me far more than she does Julian but she fought Dark Lords for several millenia and won't allow me to become one myself. Gerard sent a servant to tell his sister he wanted to talk.
We ended up waiting for a few minutes. Deirdre was rapping out orders to half a dozen aides and flunkies. She was of medium height, very athletic and attractive, wearing half armor as if she expected to be called into the field (or deal with an assassin) at any moment. Deirdre walked over to Gerard and looked me over curiously. Gerard introduced me. She showed a hint of surprise. Father told me once that most of his siblings would be amazed he had reproduced, something to do with the image he presented to most of them.
"So where have you been all this time?" she asked, studying me. They are all good at estimating ages.
"Out in Shadow, persuing my own interests."
"Why didn't Julian present you to the family?" She had presented her own daughter, just recently.
"Father had his reasons," I replied, thinking he knows his family better than that.
She could tell I wasn't going to be forthcoming and changed the subject. "We could use some help in the current emergency. How are your military skills?"
"Poor by family standards. My strengths lie elsewhere: I studied with Fiona for a while." Her eyebrows rose. "I believe I can do something for you. I can scan the bottom af the bay for Bleys and Caine." I was going to do it for my own information, anyway. Sharing the results wouldn't hurt and she might even believe me.
Deirdre smiled. "Very good. Please do so."
"A few moments," I sat down in a chair and summoned the Lens. First I examined Eric's corpse and found that a dead Prince of Amber looks like any other dead meat to the Lens. Damn. I scanned the place where Bleys had fallen for Trumps, there were a few under some rocks near shore, then for other Powers since I had been told that Bleys wore a potent sword. Nothing. None of the many corpses were wearing his colors and none looked like him. There was a ship anchored above the spot where Caine's ship went down. No Trumps or artifacts of Power. Most of the bodies had beenb swept away by the currents or eaten. I couldn't find any sharks with Trumps in their bellies.
"No traces of either of them. No Trumps or enchanted items, no likely corpses -though most of those from Caine's ship are already gone." Gerard was pleased; he likes the whole family, I can't think why. "Father would expect me to help with his rangers but I am not the man to lead them." Deirdre nodded. Actually I thought I could lead them just fine, but lacked the time to do a good job of it.
"I need to take Julian away today for medical treatments not possible here." Gerard nodded an okay to Deirdre. "I'll be in touch later." Deirdre dismissed me and talked quietly to Gerard as I left. He caught up with me in the infirmary to see me off while I was assembling a spell of transport. (I use hung spells only for emergencies.) He watched the operation with interest as I arranged Julian's bed, summoned the Lens and activated the spell.
We arrived in a very busy hospital. Doctors in sterile suits were everywhere, wounded people were out in the halls and all was barely-ordered chaos. I used my clout (I own the place) to get Father the best care possible and went off to investigate the crisis.
A 4000 mile canyon had partially collapsed and murderous THINGS were coming out of it all along its length, in considerable numbers. Spider-headed humanoids with flechette guns. Many legged lion or wolf analogues. Batwasps. Some seemed to be using psychic attacks. I accessed the Aretian Defense Force channels and saw that the evacuation of nearby settlements was mostly done. The ADF troops were badly outnumbered but had superior firepower. I Lens-scanned the canyon and found that the floor had been covered by or replaced with a black unworldly substance that continued underground halfway around the planet and 'soaked' deep into the rock. I interpreted it as some kind of massive shadow path linking Aretia to the attackers' home. I was angry.
I sent orders to recall my security forces from other shadows -I had more men than the ADF did, but they were scattered. I got the front line troops to pull back, fast, and walked the Pattern mentally. I concentrated on Deimos, the moonlet and fusion microsun, and lased a five mile diameter beam of light, using it to crisp invaders by the thousand. The macro-laser had no effect on the black construct itself.
I ordered a tacnuke strike on the black surface. Result: a small crater, black at the bottom. The Aretians started to worry, though. I decided to try to wipe it out directly but, just in case, first Edited in huge underground storehouses crammed with combat armor and weapons. Enough to equip half the population of twenty million.
My Pattern strike BOUNCED off of the black surface and blasted me into unconsciousness.
I awakened four hours later in a hospital bed, hooked to an I.V. I was far too wasted for more Pattern work and needed to be sharp later for surgery on Julian. I tried to Trump Fiona, maybe she would know what these things were. No luck. Nor with Benedict's Trump. While dropping off to sleep I thought about what to hit the enemy with. Ten million combat robots. Edit them out directly. Find the intershadow connections and hit them. Find the home shadows and destroy them. I fell asleep smiling.
I awoke much refreshed and ready to perform surgery. Another message from Gondor reached me during my morning routine (yoga, katas, sybaritic bath) of more trouble in Mordor. Something was stirring, what was not yet clear. Could it be connected to the invasion of Aretia? I knew of no enemies capable of it ... I'd stepped on some toes in Deeva but where was the profit? The surgery on Father went well for a time. The staff surgeons had left only the trickiest of the neurosurgery to me, mostly the upper spine. Working on Oberon's get is easier than working on mortals; one need only put everything back in place and our powers of regeneration will do the rest.
Then the rumbling started, shaking the medical facility. I arranged for a three hour break. I had to scan the area, so I might as well do the rest of the day's Lens work. The shaking was due to tunnelling from the Rift, naturally (Mars is tectonically dead), using some cheesy looking digging machines. I located all the tunnels and informed ADF Command; they easily organized sapping teams.
I Lensed the Black Rift carefully, looking for links across Shadow. It was NOT a huge shadow path but rather a sort of flaw in the fabric of Shadow itself. It did make weaknesses that a sorcerer or some kinds of creatures might be able to traverse. Worst of all, it was nearly everywhere, marring most of the shadows most of the way in to Amber and out well past Aretia. The black surface was a constant, sometimes a line (as in Aretia), spots (as in Endor), blotches or even rings. Endor had several spots of the black but less activity than Aretia in spite of the fact that Endor is about half as far out from Amber. In Endor the black areas were located in centers of ancient malevolence and magic. Some psychic component of the 'flaws'? On reflection, the creatures in Aretia had some resemblance to monsters of Aretian fiction and mythology. What could cause this? Who? If it was centered on Amber then that was either the source or the target of this ... rotting of reality. I had to get in touch with Fiona.
But first I finished the surgery on Julian. I arranged for his care and then Trumped Mother. Altariel answered from some ancient, photogenic forest in Shadow. I asked her to do what she could for Julian with magic, and started to explain the circumstances. She stopped me (she has no patience for Amber politics) and came- through. I gave her a new ID (she rather dislikes Aretia and never keeps them), not that she really needs one (a six foot seven inch tall, supernaturally beautiful woman with godlike charisma is impossible to mistake), and briefed her on Julian's condition.
I Trumped Gerard and let him know Julian's surgery had gone well. I started to explain about the flaws in Shadow. I noticed his eyes glazing over, and asked after Fiona and the Jewel of Judgement. Aunt Fi was still missing; Deirdre had the Jewel but had had little luck in learning to use it. There were no black flaws erupting monsters in Amber. Fiona's Trump cooled, slightly, when I tried it. I pushed the contact as hard as I could, to no effect. Damn. More Power: I assembled-a Trump-assist spell with a "header" identifying myself --if Fiona didn't want to be disturbed it might keep her from swatting me too hard. I tried again, using the spell, and achieved a contact, a pained whisper: "Quinn," and something I couldn't catch. She seemed to be in darkness (or blind), and I felt struggling feebly to be free. FIONA held against her will! I exerted myself fully and summoned the Lens while holding the contact --very tricky, the spell helped. I meant to Lens through the darkness but was deflected away from Fiona somehow. I caught a momentary view of a tower in a plain of floating boulders, something huge and glassy slithering around the base. I felt a PRESENCE coming fast. I pulled the Lens BACK, tossed the Trump down and executed a Trump shield spell I normally had hanging. Stood and panted through the adrenaline rush. My head didn't explode, so Fiona's captor had not identified me.
After briefing Mother I Trumped to Castle Amber to report to Deirdre. I was told she was at the Pattern --and I could feel someone walking it. I jogged down and found her with a man watching another guy finish the Walk and disappear. Deirdre introduced us, he was Theseus, a son of Eric.
"We have a problem in Shadow," I began.
"Evil creatures spilling out of rifts in Shadow, killing and maiming people," suggested Theseus.
"Just so, affecting most shadows in a ring or wave around Amber. I probed it: it seems to be a kind of flaw in reality, reflected into Shadow. A flaw in the Pattern."
"There is no sign of any such flaw here, in Amber," Deirdre pointed out.
"There should be. Maybe the flaw is tiny here at the center and magnified as it is reflected outward."
I took a deep breath and looked her in the eye. "Another thing. I tried to consult Fiona. I pushed a weak Trump contact and got through for a moment. She's being held against her will."
"I don't want to think about that," Deirdre said, rubbing her temples.
She started naming the few family members available for a rescue attempt: Theseus, Vaughn, Lysander (NO), Breann, Anders (her son, who had just re-walked the Pattern). Llewella was not likely to risk herself for Fiona. I said we'd just be a snack to Fiona's captor. Could anyone use the Jewel of Judgement? No. Had she checked Eric's things for notes, hints, etc? (Theseus listened closely at this mention of his late father.) No, with surprise. It had not occured to her. She agreed we (Theseus and I) should search Eric's rooms for clues. She was not enthused at my suggestion that, if necessary, I try to learn to use it. Search first. I explained that I thought the Jewel enhanced the user's Pattern abilities: I could scan for the source of the flaw, and I had no designs on Amber's weather.
I badly wanted to study the Jewel but had no objections to sharing most of my discoveries with Deirdre. I couldn't keep the thing, not without killing most of the family, and she was in charge. I would tell Gerard, too, and Julian when he came out of his coma. If it did what I thought it did, I could probably use it to Lens in to Fiona's cell, despite opposition, and teleport her out.
If I was quick enough.
--CASTLE AMBER
What a rush. For a while, attuned to the jewel of Judgement and holding it in my hand, I commanded more power than anyone else in existence. Power is tempting. I had three iethal spells hung. Using the Jewel I could probably kill both Deirdre and Theseus and be the only person attuned to it --the only one who knew how to attune to it. Half of the family wouldn't hesitate in my position. I choose not to kill. Perhaps Deirdre IS a good judge of character.
--earlier
Theseus and I shredded Eric's room but found the his journal and some Trumps. He grudgingly let me read the relevant parts: attuning and using the jewel of Judgement. He palmed the Trumps; I didn't care about them.
I briefed Deirdre and she went first, walking the Pattern and then "Trumping" the Jewel. She was successful, but exhausted. She handed me the jewel and collapsed. I had a much easier time of it, due, I think, to superior technique. I was merely pleasantly tired. Mentally plying the Jewel's multidimensional Pattern was hard to describe. I'll try: a transcendent roller-coaster ride through the blood of Creation, or: a precision red-shifted opium high. I LIKED it.
I played with it on the parapets, just a little because I was still flying high. It worked about as I had hoped. Such a lovely thing, I wished I could keep it
Other events of interest:
I met Deirdre's children Ander and Breann, plus Ander's friends Anax and Victor.
ANDER had been missing for centuries, though from some things he and Dee said she knew where he was all along. He seems to be genuinely friendly and interested in the people he meets. Maybe there IS hope.
I talked to BREANN for only a moment. She seems awfully young. She had apparently been told that Ander was dead and was very disturbed to meet him.
ANAX is a mystery. He can actually shapeshift without magic, easily and quickly, to nearly any form. He seems to have worked for me on aretia as a scientist, a very good one. He helped Ander out of a bad situation and claims to be his friend of long (several centuries') standing. Ander does not recall the earlier acquaintance, but Ander's memory has holes in it. Anax scanned as Family, which I announced out of curiosity. He later took the opportunity to walk the Pattern when it was unattended, against the Regent's wishes. I watched part of the ordeal. Anax shapeshifted wildly, second to second, but succeeded. Exhausted but ravenous, he fell upon the kitchen like a troop of hungry devils.
VICTOR is a mortal from Ander's shadow, a nice enough fellow who is coping quite well.
THESEUS is devious, suspicious and greedy. Of course, his father just died so he is not at his best.
The Jewel changes things. My goals had been straightforward. Secure Father's recovery, do what I could for Gerard and reverse the flaws in Shadow. I did not care about who was King, let alone Regent, so long as no assassins were hunting me or mine. I needed (probably) Fiona to work on the flaws. I needed the Jewel and help to rescue Fiona. I had to help Deirdre in order to get access to the Jewel, despite Gerard's distrust of her.
Now... unless Dworkin or Oberon showed up, I was the best Jewel user around. I wanted to maintain that distinction. So I would have to get involved in the politics enough to keep access. I needed to become the Indispensable Man. A big success would help get things rolling. I needed to cover every possible angle of the rescue attempt. (Besides, I'm a possessive bastard; it offended me that someone had snatched MY mentor.)
Things to do:
--the rescue attempt
--tell Gerard how to attune to the Jewel. The Jailor might nail me and someone other than
Deirdre needed to know.
--move Julian to the infirmary? Attempt a Jewel-augmented Editing spell of healing on him?
On Gerard?
--get Morgenstern back on the job. Mom will help. Might she have designs on Arden? It is
the Forest of Forests. See what help the rangers needed.
--probe the flaws with the Jewel, trace the source. Attempt to heal a flaw.
--offer to help the Regent on other matters than those I walked in with.
--help Aretia and Endor from afar.
I dreamed I was a piece -white OB- in a chess game. Lysander was WQR, whining, Deirdre was WQ, Breanne was WQKT, Theseus was WKB and a man who looked something like a thin, young Julian was WKKT; White had no King. We were not doing well. Strangely, I did not seem to be the focus of the action. Theseus and Breanne went out to the center to be pommelled by Black pieces. I decided that this was not MY dream but might contain some sort of useful portents. I studied the Black pieces: a blond King, a shrouded KB, a young-seeming red haired QB, a Knight in brick red armor who beat on Breanne, and pawns wearing a curious symbol. It smelled of Power --some sort of attack? I tried to wake up, and did.
Someone was yelling down the hall from my room. Theseus? I stepped out and met Victor coming out of my cousin's rooms. Theseus was in the bedroom nursing a bad nosebleed. "Bad dream?" Theseus' eyes went wide. Heh heh. "Chessboard? Me, too. I thought it was someone else's dream --I don't know half of those people." I handed him some towels. "I'd like to know who they were. Later." He probably wouldn't tell me, but I thought I'd put the wind up him a bit.
Breakfast with Gerard. I told him how to attune to the Jewel of Judgement. It was entirely possible I would be hurt or captured in the rescue attempt and I wanted to be sure someone other than Deirdre knew how to use the thing.
Deirdre, Anax, Theseus, Gerard and I gathered in the sitting room just down from the infirmary. Dee held the Jewel, medical supplies were at hand and I had a robe ready for Fiona. Theseus nervously admitted to Deirdre how he had been mindblasted the day before, He had tried out some of Eric's Trumps. One was Finndo with a message for Dee. One was Osric. NOT friendly. Osric now knew all that Theseus had known: the weakness of Amber, injuries, rescue intentions, HOW TO ATTUNE TO THE JEWEL. Shit. Well, at least Theseus had had the guts to tell us.
I walked the Pattern in my mind --the same old flat one-- to run up to full Shadow editing power. Dee held the Jewel (I could draw on the it from a few feet away), Anax and Theseus touched me for contact and Gerard was ready with Greyswandir naked in his hand. I concentrated on Ficna's Trump, Anax and Dee added power, and we punched right into Fiona's cell. She was chained naked to a stone wall. I used a Summoning spell at horrendously magnified strength; nothing. The manacles disrupted the magic. I tried to crumble the chains. The stones. The tower. Nothing, nothing, nothing, or rather Something and Someone was actively resisting me/us. Amazing. Our power could shatter whole shadows in moments, but was insufficient to break some damned manacles!
OK, another approach: I called Gerard over and moved the Lens right up to a manacle. Greyswandir might do the trick. Gerard pushed the blade into the vortex of energies. As the tip passed the plane of the Trump I saw the Pattern on the sword PEEL OFF LIKE FOIL, revealing Something beneath for just a second. ***WHITE LIGHT***
After an age the gray fog receded. I was lying on my back on dirt, vague shapes moving above me. My eyes recovered slowly. Luckily, none of the floating rocks --the vague shapes-- hit me. Theseus called out to me and Anax from my left. We answered: Anax was above us, flying. I summoned the Lens and studied the rocks' movements from two hundred feet up. I was safe for the moment. Higher up... Gerard was between me and the tower, sans Greyswandir. Theseus (bearing a weapon of power) hopped onto a rock and started leapfrogging towards the center. Deirdre was on the far side of the tower, with the Jewel. Check the rocks again, still safe. I pulled out my Trumps and contacted Deirdre --that PRESENCE swooped at her-- and pulled her through. She was very happy to see a friendly face. Rather than explain, I let her see through the Lens.
"How do you DO that? And what in hell is THAT?" Meaning the PRESENCE which lost its lock on us once we stopped using the Trump.
"It's a Pattern trick, got at the expense of the martial arts. I think the Presence is some kind of local god or spirit."
"ROLL!" Deirdre had noticed the redirected boulder bearing down on us through my Lens before I did. More were coming our way. Okay, IT hadn't lost us. I drew Gerard's Trump, grabbed Dee's hand and contacted Uncle, who pulled us right through. IT was on us again immediately. Boulders changed course. I cursed and teleported us straight to Fiona's cell.
None of us had a weapon and there were no convenient crowbars at hand. Shit! Wait, Theseus had a good sword, and we shouldn't leave him out there anyway. (Anax could probably shapeshift into something useful, but we had no Trump of him.) Gerard pulled Theseus through, scraped half raw front and back, panting from exertion. Gerard took the sword and dug out the bolts to the wrist chains. Theseus tried to stop drooling over Fiona's naked body. Half starved and dirty, Fiona was still outstandingly beautiful. (I was, ahem, less affected. Growing up around Noldo and Sinda women had forced me to learn some self control. Besides, she had a thing for Dad.) The feet were harder --solid bars set into the stone-- and we ended up taking hunks of stone along. Theseus said that Osric had been in a place just like this when contacted... Done. Something, maybe the huge snake-worm-glass dragon coiled around the tower, scraped along the outer wall. Theseus carried Fiona, copping a feel here and there, I carried Gerard, and Deirdre sent me more Jewel energy as I sent the Lens to the infirmary at Castle Amber and activated a transport spell. A LONG jump through a silent red vortex and we were there, yelling for guards, hammers, bandages, Gerard's wheelchair, brandy, food.
I took Deirdre aside. "Yesterday, standing on the roof and playing with the Jewel, I thought I had more power in my hands at that moment than anyone else in the universe. I was DEAD wrong. I wanted to keep the power to ourselves, but Fiona must be attuned. When that asshole shows up here, I want to be able to hand him his head."
Fiona was suffering mostly from hunger and thirst. Theseus needed a quart of healing salve. The empty infirmary cot called to me in an irresistable voice.
--INFIRMARY, CASTLE AMBER
I woke up after twelve or fourteen hours, and still felt like hell. But I was smiling.
Osric had not attacked. He had this narrow window of opportunity before Fiona recovered and while the rest of us were exhausted.
Nothing happened.
The bastard was just as tired as we were. Maybe more.
After all, WE had had enough juice left to get Fi out and NOBODY INTERFERED.
I lay smiling for a long time. Gradually I paid attention to my surroundings. Dad was still comatose but it looked somehow more like sleep. Theseus was sketching at the desk; I felt little waves of Trump-force radiating from him. Fiona shifted in her sleep and kicked off her sheet. Evidently, no one had risked dressing her -- wise.
Theseus froze. Quivered. Very slowly, he pushed back his chair, stood. Braced himself. Walked stiffly over to Fiona's bed and tucked her sheet up under her chin. Stood breathing heavily for over a minute. Returned to the desk and started working again.
Only the extreme self control that Fiona herself had taught me kept me still and silent when every atom wanted to howl. Tears ran down my face. I didn't dare make a noise; Theseus had to be dying of frustration. Luckily, he was doubly distracted.
Poor bastard. (Or not. You never knew what would strike Fiona's fancy --aside from Julian, who was out of the running.)
Half an hour later I felt it was safe to get up. Theseus nodded at me as I left in search of food, a bath, fresh clothes, more food. I wondered if the Castle enployed a masseur.
"...those mysteries, which Heaven will not have the Earth
know."
-- Coriolanus, Act 4, Scene 2 (Wm. Shakespeare)
--CASTLE AMBER
I had thought the family would employ a good masseur. I was wrong. Hans had to be The Best. Anywhere. Oberon had had some good points, after all.
Back in the infirmary Theseus was still drawing Trumps, Fiona was sleeping and Julian looked a little better. Theseus was in that nasty maximum scabbing stage; no wonder he didn't want to attempt sleep. I used the Lens to check on Fiona; she really was Fiona and had evidently awakened at some point because she had two protective spells (in her style) on her. She also had freshly fluffed pillows, juice, water, etc. Theseus was attentive.
In accordance with my rising paranoia, I asked Theseus if it was possible to tap Trump communication. He thought that it was feasible for a few experts. He showed me the completed Trump of Greyswandir and said that both he and Gerard were not eager to try it. I didn't blame them. Another group effort? Hell, Greyswandir was practically an entity in its own right. I should be able to shadow walk to it.
I convinced Theseus to let me try a healing spell on him. It wasn't difficult. Part compassion (I winced every time I looked at him) and part experiment. I had no idea how much good a Pattern-backed healing spell would do for Family, in Amber.
Deirdre met with me privately. I had questions about Osric and Finndo. She said that she had been five years old when last she saw either of them. Both were nearly a century older than Benedict and she had been five years old when they "died". She had not contacted Finndo.
We agreed that a family meeting or war council was in order. We needed Benedict's knowledge of his elder brothers, but he rarely answered Trump calls. Sander was with Benedict, though, and him we could Trump. We agreed to try to get everyone together that evening. I borrowed a Trump of Sander and used it.
Sander was standing in a military camp, holding a leathery sack or ball. His right hand was bandaged. He pulled (yanked) me through and led me towards Benedict's tent. Three tents short of it he stopped, dropped the ball, brushed himself off and straightened his UNIFORM. He continued on in a ramrod straight military march. I did the same, I couldn't help it; even Gerard and Julian assume a more military bearing around Benedict.
Sander tapped on the frame and Benedict invited him in. Benedict was sitting at a camp desk, turning towards us, MISSING HIS RIGHT ARM! Shock' I froze for a second before controlling my expression. Julian had told me that Benedict was, for all practical purposes, invincible.
"Lysander. Quinn?" He examined us with that... thoroughness he had, absently spinning his ball-point pen. Blur, stop. Blur, stop. Unnecessarily intimidating.
I noddeed. "Benedict. I've come from Deirdre. A number of problems have come up that you should know about. For one thing, it seems that your full brothers are alive."
Benedict DROPPED THE PEN. "By that you mean Finndo and Osric?" What, Benedict had other full siblings?
Yes, I said and explained that Theseus had contacted them, and the results. I added that Fiona had been imprisoned (Benedict's eyebrows rose), apparently by Osric, and freed by US.
Benedict considered, then noticed Sander attempting invisibility in the corner. "Lysander, what did you want?" Sander jumped.
"I thought he was just showing me to your tent," I put in.
"Yes!" Sander agreed, glad for an out.
Benedict turned back to me. "Tell Deirdre I'll be there. I'll bring Lysander and Breann as well." He went back to his desk-work. Apparently, we were dismissed. I Trumped back to Amber and reported success.
Three hours to the meeting: I put together an outfit of Dad's heavy riding leathers (spell altered to fit), a helmet and goggles and went out to the stables to talk to Morgenstern. Julian's mount was moving past restless to murderous after a week stuck in the stalls. I knew Morgenstern was more than a horse and possesssed human (or better) intelligence. He recognised me and I told him Julian was recovering. SNORT, NOD. Would he like to go for a run? BIG SNORT, ENTHUSIASTIC NOD. While I saddled him I mentioned that I had to be back at the Castle in a couple of hours. A LOOK (ARE YOU KIDDING?) What the hell, I could always teleport back.
I laid a Defensive Shield (versus impact, heat, wind) on me as I mounted; I think he felt it. Morgenstern's hooves hit the courtyard twice, at most. The gate guards dove for cover as soon as they heard us coming and we passed the gates at 70 kph. Morgenstern turned onto the forest road and we thndered into the trees. He started shadowshifting, shadowLEAPING, and a minute later we were tearing across salt flats at race car speed. I wondered if I could do it that fast. I held on in terror-excitement and wished I was stronger. 200 kph on horseback is very different from the same speed inside a car. I tried to keep track of the time but Morgenstern was still shifting the sky, the sun, suns, moons, rings... We were far out in Shadow now. I started to cramp up. Morgenstern started to unwind --the ride smoothed out. I began to worry about making it back on time, then noticed that the sky was reverting to a more Amber-like appearance. Minutes later, we were in Arden. The Forest Road and the Castle gates flashed by and Morgenstern skidded to a halt in a shower of cobblestones near the stables. My stomach moves back to where it belonged and I heaved myself dry. The dismount was a half-controlled fall. I was trashed and Morgenstern was barely winded. He needed someone with Julian's strength and endurance. He needed... Sander. I asked Morgenstern: do you want to take exercise with Sander. SNORT SNORT NOD (Hell Yes).
I tottered into the Castle and checked a clock. Fifteen minutes. Bless you, Morgenstern. I called for help. Sir Scudamore, the Castellan, rounded up servants and helped me to the Baths where giggling maids stripped me, threw buckets of soapy water at me, scrubbed me with big sponges, toweled me dry and handed me new clothes. In my colors, and they fit, too. The castle staff is GOOD. Scudarnore seemed to approve of me, too.
Fiona was wakeable, but muzzy. I agreed to keep in contact via her Trump.
The Meeting. Deirdre presided, wearing the Jewel. Present were Benedict, Gerard, Breann, Ander, Theseus, Sander, and me. Several shocked looks in Benedict's direction. Benedict examined Ander closely. Breann's jaws were wired shut; benedict said that she was injured fighting for him.
Deirdre did introductions, then began to work through our problems. I mentioned that Fiona was auditing the meeting through me.
Thoughts:
I arranged to have a clock put into Trump-view of the Great Hall and Leon, one of Sir Scudamore's assistants, will see to keeping it accurate. I didn't tell anyone; most will notice it on their own.
The next morning I found that Fiona and Theseus were gone when I checked in on the infirmary. I managed psychic contact with Dad. He quickly realized he was in a coma but we couldn't get him OUT. He was not able to follow me, but then I was "going" to my head, not his bodily interface. I needed help.
Fiona, Theseus and I Trumped Julian. It was Theseus who came up with a solution, one appropriate to an artist. He dreamed up some spray paints and executed a dreamscape on the featureless dark. Even Fiona was impressed. Dad was able to focus enough to wake up.
Dad took the news that I had let Sander ride Morgenstern pretty well AFTER I told him that Sander had been working for Benedict. Hell, that was the only reason I considered him. Not that Morgenstern would have been in danger, rather if Sander had been too big a jerk Morgenstern might have squashed him, annoying Gerard.
Theseus and Fiona found out that some of the Trumps were tapped --Trump 'strings'-- but some, including the Greyswandir Trump, were not. I had them check. Grey was sticking through a white stone in a courtyard just like Amber's. Theseus went through after it and found himself in Tir-na Nog'th, in daylight with no moon. Trumps didn't work for him; his went dead for us. He got involved with Ander's dream of the memorial service somehow. Either Ander dreamed into Tir-na Nog'th, or Tir-na Nog'th crossed into Ander's dream. Or Tir-na Nog'th is Dreamland. Anyway, Dream-Quinn and Dream-Benedict were assassinated by Dream-Caine, or maybe Real Caine (his bolts were real to Theseus). Real or Dream? Ander and Theseus were phantoms to one another (though Greyswandir was real to everyone) and Ander was the only one who was actually sleeping at the time. So Theseus whacked Ander with Grey's flat while both held the sword. That woke Ander and Theseus (and Grey) "woke" with him, on Ander's bed.
Fiona and I had been standing around drawing blanks on What To Do when Theseus' card went cold and the commotion started up in Ander's rooms. Ander invited me to run through his memories of the event and I gave him my view of the beginning. This was too weird. And Caine! What in Hell did Caine have against me? Were Tir-na Nog'th's visions reliable? Shit shit shit.
Theseus gave up Greyswandir to Gerard with little grace and groused about his own blade, lost somehow in Tir-na Nog'th.
Someone poisoned elegant Florimel, causing her to lose all decorum puking her guts out. Kethos was out fencing at the time. Flora is tough, they say. I would probably have died. Shit shit shit.
At the funeral for Eric and Corwin:
Deirdre spoke for a while, then invited others who had wanted to speak to the dais: Quinn. (WHAT?) I started to talk while scanning the parapets for the many guards I had had posted against the odda assassin. One was missing --I faltered-- no, there he was... OH SHIT! He pointed his "spear" at me and fired into my side!
I woke muzzily, confused but glad it had been a dream until the pain hit --my side. And pressure, someone was administering CPR to me. I opened my eyes. Julian was working on me, Fiona atanding to my right, talking to me.
"Quinn, you're all right. We had to resusicitate you. How do you feel? We're trying to stay away from the wound." Damn.
Fade out.
I blinked and sat up in my chair and looked around the sitting room. Evidently I had nodded off for a moment. I checked the clock: two hours until the service. Strange dreams, but the second was familiar. Damn, I'd had that dream before, two weeks ago in Aretia.
Two hours. I hopped up and set off for the armoury. The best armor I could find quickly was an old set of Bleys', overly ornate and nearly risque but excellent quality in a back-and-breast, whatchamacallit butt and groin plates and a fancy helmet. I ran it up to my room and rushed three spells onto it: a sink for energy attacks, a reinforcer for the armor and a conditional illusion of spraying blood to make it look like a first shot was all that was needed. I barely made it to the serevice on time, but nothing bad happened. Deirdre spoke. Gerard spoke. The priest of the Unicorn spoke. Theseus spoke. That was it.
I intercepted Kethos and talked to him about Finndo's chances to be king. Nobody really wanted it but Deirdre, and she was very impressed with Finndo. Kethos claimed that Finndo was a good ruler, ruling being his passion. I suggested that if he presented himself in a good light (without an army), Finndo might well convince tha family that he was the best choice.
I Lensed Aretia and Endor from my new rooms. Aretia was holding static; anything that stuck its head out of the Flaw got it shot off by a robot or a militiaman. The whole adult population was taking learning tapes for military skills and practicing with power armor and weapons. Endor was in bad shape. They hadn't had a big war in a long time and Mordor was right next to the capitol. Minas Tirith would have fallen if the enemy had been organized. I wanted the Jewel for this.
Deirdre agreed to let me use it in her office. I told her (af ter she agreed) that I would try to work out how Eric had used it for scrying. I tried to use the Jewel's three (four? five?) dimensional Pattern as a Lens and found myself subjected to strobing images, about four per second, of different two-dimensional Patterns and what might have been alternate Ambers: neanderthals, high tech, lizardmen, etc, all Lensed as just as real as Amber, all blasting into my mind FLASH FLASH FLASH FLASH!
I broke off contact with a curse.
OK. What would Eric have done? I tried again, concentrating on Our Pattern and found it easily enough. No strobing. It felt right, hell better than right. It took no concentration to maintain. I felt I could Edit through it, so I did.
First, I inserted electronic messages into QED's systems and authorized massive credit for ShadowRail at the discretion of the trainmasters. I was sure they knew exactly what to buy, which weapons would work well in Endor. They probably had some stockpiled. I left instructions for them to deliver it to Endor, to both the dwarf kingdoms and my cousins the rulers of Annarth (the Great -reuinted-- kingdom). I assigned the twenty or so security men who spoke Westron to Endor as arms instructors, with letters of introduction.
Then the fun stuff. I hit the big Flaws in the Misty Mountains, Moria and Mount Gundabad, with earthquakes --high sevens or low eights. Then I carefully made cracks and vents in the volcanic underpinnings of Mordor and ran lava through the main fortresses. I played some more with the vents and the weather and put three feet of alkaline ash across the croplands of Nurn. Orcs have to eat. Later, I would Trump Miriel, Duchess of Langedon, Endor's only Trump Master and my niece several times removed, to inform the king.
Next I found Finndo moving through Shadow with only a few men as Kethos had said. Good. I Lensed to Benedict's camp and observed the area, looking for the darkness-power Sander had described. Nothing. The enemies did look like Eidar, down to the decoration of their gear. A few were unhelmed and the range of hair color indicated a mixed group of
Noldor and Teleri, and maybe some Vanyar. Nobody I knew personally. I wanted to talk to one. Hm. I went (with permission) to knock on Benedict's room. Did he want one of these guys? Yes. He went with me to the dungeons. I assembled a basic Summoning spell and CAREFULLY grabbed an officer or high noble. Got a shock anyway, but pulled him in. He was fast, sword drawn and ready to spit me by the time he joined us, but Benedict sapped him so invisibly fast. Benedict arranged for our guest to be kept in a lightless room, reasoning that that would be as good as blazing light.
I rejoined Deirdre and taught her to scry through the Jewel in under an hour. I told her to concentrate on the (our) Pattern and she didn't encounter the strobe effect.
On my way to the infirmary I found a door that hadn't been there before. Big, bronze, decorated with r6pouss@ skulls and devils. Hall of Mirrors?
I arranged both dagger and wand for a fast draw, then opened the door, Yes. Mirrors. Not the baths that should occupy that space. I entered.
The first few mirrors seemed to be mundane. The next few reflected nothing: fog. Then some interesting ones:
"Rather gruesome, isn't it?" asked a deep voice from behind me.
I whirled around to a large plain mirror featuring Finndo sitting at a camp fire in a dark forest, a steaming cup in his hand. Ne nodded at me.
"I've been watching it repeat for a while. Never been on the other side of one of these before."
"You've done this before? This is my first."
"Yes. My brother and I were warned of our impending heroic deaths. We made other plans." He sipped from his cup, studying me. "Nice meeting you, but I should be going. I'll get there in four days if conditions don't change too much." Fadeout. "Well did you have a nice chat?" asked a snappish contralto from behind and left. I turned around and moved before a small ornate mirror to see an athletic woman with strong, handsome features and an expression of habitual annoyance. I had no idea who she was.
"Yes, I did. I don't believe we've met. My name is Quinn."
"Sand. You've been giving Osric no sleep," she accused.
"Good." We bandied words a while, then the subject of reliability came up in relation to the Hall's visions. "It's not always trustworthy, like anything or anyone else. For instance," she said smiling nastily, "What if I told you to look behind you?"
I froze and heard a click, gunlike and disturbing behind me. Shit.
Spelled armor still on, good, but the second or third shots might be to my head and break my neck despite the helmet. OK. I threw myself forward and left faster that I'd ever moved before. BOOM! A miss! I had my wand out and pointed at the big rifle barrel thrusting out of the mirror opposite me as it lined up on me.
The gun went off as my lightning bolt did, he hit me in the side and I could hardly miss the lightning rod of his barrel --I had a flash impression of a hooded and cloaked figure. The slug --.50 calibre?-- bounced me off the wall and the floor. I blacked out before I hurt.
I woke groggily on my back, Fiona and Julian working on me. Deja vu all over again.
I forgot to dispell the gore illusion on the armor and caused Dad and Fi some unnecessary worry. I wasn't hurt badly: one broken rib, two cracked, more bruised. I hoped the back-shooter fried when the lightning bolt hit. No such luck.
According to Theseus, he entered the Hall of Mirrors shortly before I did and found Sand and Brand (as we learned later) coming out to greet ME. So, one or both of them could control the Hall but the autopilot was not perfect. Added it to the list.
Research Project List:
Sander was getting married to some Golden Circle Crown Princess. No, really. Gift?
Dad had Morgenstern find him a horse. I decided on a vacation house on the slopes of Olympus Mons, and a Rail pass and Path to get there. I used the Jewel to do things remotely. Dee said that Oberon would spin in his grave if he knew she was lending the Jewel out to make wedding presents; she liked the idea.
Just before we all left to attend the wedding, Breann and Kethos brought in Benedict. The real one. It seems the one hanging about the Castle, the one we told ALL our secrets to, is a fake. The real one has two arms, but no eyes. Burned out. But the fake was FAST, fast as the real Benedict, near as I could tell.
Shit.
Fake Ben had left, and Ander followed on Morgenstern. (Dad is annoyed that everyone gets to ride Big M but him.) Breann wanted someone to arrest the Fake; I pointed out that that could be difficult. And fatal. Gerard Trumped in from the wedding. I noticed a stranger among us: Lora, she said, a "friend" of Ander's who turned out to be his daughter.
Breann monitored Ander by Trump --she's more fond of her brother every day-- and watched as Morgenstern found the Fake, an army, and another Fake. The Fakes were Anax and Osric. Ander wanted us to attack immediately. Attack TWO BENEDICTS with the people available. Maybe they weren't nearly as good as the real thing; I know I'm not the guy to evaluate them.
We stumbled into a "plan". Fiona and I would attack Osric mentally, via his Trump, backed by the Jewel. Everybody else would pile over there and kick ass with steel. Hopefully, we could slow Osric down enough for Dee & Co. to butcher him. (Yeah, he's Family, but he burned out Benedict's eyes: we disown him.) Sander popped up next to Ander --something about the mass, mixed up Trump contacts. A bad guy showed up there with Sander's bride Daelyn kicking and screaming. I fired up the Editing Lens through the Jewel (where it took negligible effort or concentration) just in case. Theseus stared off into space, tracing the Trump bugs.
The war party piled through and attacked. Fi and I took the smirk off Osric's face by forcing (well, trying to) the Trump contact. Brand Trumped in behind us, farting fire, swatted Fiona into the wall and lunged at me/the Jewel. On fire or not, he's not that fast; I teleported through the Lens to the battle site.
I was screwed. I was in no shape to duke it out with Sparky with my ribs trashed and I had one damned attack spell left. On the other hand, I didn't think the Razor Vortex would faze Osric at all. All the Editing tricks I thought of would (in the unlikely event that he didn't notice my efforts and end them) take out the entire area. Deirdre & Co. included.
Uncle Osric inhaled a LOT of the local mana, then let it out as a big blast of flame. He fried a lot of his own people and scorched Our Team. And gave me an idea.
I stepped three shadows away and waited for the next 'Inhalation'. As soon as he was committed and concentrating I TWISTED the rules of magic around him, making magic Volatile, Destructive and IMPLOSIVE. And kept on twisting, hard as I could, through the Jewel. Osric resisted, Twisted right back... weakly. Weak for Osric, that is. He must have been hurting. Something gave in the shadow structure, the resistance ended and I fell down and lost the Lens.
Deirdre, Breann, Ander, Sander and Kethos were sprawled around the area, scorched but alive. I lensed the battle site. Damn. A mile-wide shadowstorm, contained somehow, was centered on Osric's old position. Most of his army was gone. What I had hoped for was for his magic vortex to implode him into a chunk of compressed carbon. Still, not too shabby. I couldn't find him or Anax anywhere.
Now I was half-trashed in mind AND body. I Lensed Amber and found Gerard, Fiona, Theseus, Dad and Lora but no Sparky Brand. Theseus was stalking around with Greyswandir (slightly bloodied) in his hand. Good Work Theseus! We Trumped back to Amber. Deirdre took the Jewel back. Scudamore's crew bandaged, fed and pampered us. Daelyn was there, scratched, wind blown, blood splattered, and near hysterical, but safe. Sander had put her on Morgenstern and sent her away in time. (Sander had told M to go slow and evidently M had, since the unarmored mortal Daelyn was alive and intact. She disagreed with this definition of the word 'slow'.) Deirdre welcomed her to the family.
We decided to give them their wedding presents right away.
Dee called a meeting wherein we learned a number of interesting things:
--Theseus was sure that Sparky the Intruder was Brand. Sparky had teleported out in a hurry with Greyswandir's point sliding into him. Sometines you could just kiss Theseus and other times you wanted to lose your boot in his ass.
--The newcomer, Lora, was Ander's daughter. Ander also had a son named Daven who had been cut up via Trump by someone wearing Ander's face. Daven is eight years old but he survived. Someone, probably Osric or Anax, ATTACKED A CHILD OF MY BLOOD. This is war to the knife. The others seem to think much the same thing, which makes Osric an idiot. Most of the power of being King in Amber is in the obedience of us, the family. No one will work with him now.
--Thoughts of vengeance blew away for a while when we found out why Gavin was bled. Fiona told of the Primal Pattern, drawn in blood and vulnerable to the Family's blood. That explained the Flaws. It also nearly fixed the blame on Osric as a shapeshifter and Pattern master who had anticipated the Flaws.
--Ander suggested we make a fake Jewel. Good idea; Fiona and I could do it between us, or maybe she alone. I wondered why she hadn't attuned to the Jewel. Perhaps Deirdre had said 'no'.
--Not even Fiona had any means of detecting shapeshifters. The problem was new.
--In retrospect, Osric was the perfect Faux Ben and Anax the inferior one.
--Finndo had told Kethos that Brigid had guns usable in Amber. How would he know? A captured officer?
--I said that Deirdre, Fiona or I could trash armies moving through Shadow. Powder wagons made excellent targets for lightning.
--I announced the bad news about Brand and/or Sand's control of the Hall of Mirrors.
--Julian told us to lay off Morgenstern.
I convinced the group to try to cheap Brand via his Trump. We'd try to subdue rather than kill. No Luck. The cards stayed warm.
Theseus then found a way to go after Brand psychically, via the Trump tap threads, and got Ander, Sander and Breann to join him. This sounded like a Bad Idea to me as Brand had just demonstrated to block his Trump while still monitoring lots of other Trumps. Fiona and Theseus, the experts, liked the idea so I raised no objections. Others of us monitored them.
Our intrepid band of psychenauts had irritating adventures in, apparently, Theseus' mindscape. They forced Brand to retreat -- with Fiona's help. Then they went bodily to the Tower Among the Flying Boulders and killed the Glass Dragon with a little psychic help from me. Brand was not there.
Fiona and I went off to check on the Real Pattern by walking the one in the basement. Ander was there before us and we almost got to ride on his wake.
The site of the Creation has a more-than-Amber feel of transcendant Reality. It is surrounded by the featureless sea-sky and seems to be quite small, an island. The Real Pattern itself is a colored stone design rather than blue fire. There were extensive black blotches near the center. Off to one side was a cave with a purple griffin chained near the entrance.
As Fiona and I surveyed the splotches a hunchbacked dwarf put his hand on my shoulder; I jumped. He muttered "Lotta damage, lotta damage." Fiona identified him as Dworkin. He LIVED THERE in the cave, he was nuts and he was Fiona's teacher of Pattern, Trumps and Magic. He gave me a banana and a softball with a Trump of me (drawn in two minutes) then told me to leave. I went.
Fiona thought it had gone rather well. He used, she said, to be very eccentric rather than deranged. He stopped by her rooms to talk from time to time.
I measured the distance to the first blotch from outside the Pattern: about thirty feet. I told Fiona I was considering bringing a 30' pole with a small paintbrush on the end dipped in blood and touching it to a blackened spot.
Fiona said we needed to know just how the Pattern had been made. We decided to ransack Oberon's rooms for clues.
So what to do with the banana? Given to me by an ancient sage, my teacher's teacher --but he is insane. Eat it? Analyze it? Hell, 'Dworkin' could have been Osric. We know the bastard has access.