Winds That Will Be — Aedan's Journal
"If this is completely useless, I say we shave his head"
Aedan's Journal. Session 10-21-00.
© 2000 Todd Worrell
The Unicorn was gone-completely. She had faded to nothingness, apparently destroyed by the dark thorn-thing. All that remained was a spiraled, pearl horn about two feet long. Giselle held it, point down, close to her chest wrapped in Gabriel's cloak. She was trying not to spill any of the fluid that filled the interior of the horn.
The liquid shifted and swirled in that otherworldly way that weird things do. I stared at it for a moment before I remembered that I had my arm around Giselle's bony shoulders. It wasn't awkward, yet. Flora bent over in an unladylike manner and spoke softly to her. I stood and pretended not to overhear. After a moment, Flora helped her daughter stand. She absent-mindedly handed me Gabriel's cloak and the two of them walked cheerlessly out of the Hall.
My cousin's cloak was stained where some of the unicorn's substance had leaked. I got an idea.
* * *
The Alchemy Lab was cluttered with strange new tools and devices; In the midst of a maze of pipes and tubes, Gwydion pulled at his beard and looked over the tufty fey guy's shoulder—'Eredwhat's-his-name.' The two of them looked up as I entered the chamber.
"I wonder what you can tell me about this," I said, and deposited Gabriel's cloak on a side table. The two elderly gentleman approached and looked it over.
"It appears to be Lord Gabriel's cloak," Gwydion said. I was impressed, since it was a non-descript green with no personal markings.
"Very good," I said. "How could you tell?"
"It has copious amounts of dandruff," Gwydion replied, "and it smells like peat."
I nodded and folded the cloak to reveal a spot of Unicorn goo.
"Actually, I was referring to this." I pointed at the stain. Lord Tufty's voluminous eyebrows twitched and I smelled fey sorcery. He peered at the liquid through his magic eye.
"Egad!" The Fey Lord whuffed. "It's incredible!"
The next two hours were an exercise in excitement and boredom. Gwydion and his colleague explored every avenue in an effort to decode the chemical structure of the milky fluid. They cut several swatches out of Gabriel's cloak, leaving a few holes. In between answering questions and peering through microscopes I had plenty of free time, so I "decorated" the cloak with some miscellaneous fluids from around the lab. When I was done, it was several different shades of green, with some mottled brown and a large grape stripe running diagonally across it. In fact, it was an improvement over the "never-been washed" look it had previously; now, it was artwork. I was sure Gabriel would appreciate it.
As it had taken me most of an hour to decorate the cloak, I had expected some progress with the Unicorn goo. I told Gwydion so.
"The Proper Method takes time, boy. This isn't something simple like making grape juice." Gwydion puffed himself up inside his heavy robes. "We're experts. Just you leave us be."
So I let them be. I said a brief prayer to Govian for the memory of the Unicorn, and headed upstairs. It was raining outside as I sat on a covered balcony and watched the sky cry. I accompanied it on Flute.
I knew a warlock in Dimv who claimed he could talk to the dead. He claimed that they only stayed dead for a short while, mostly a few weeks, before being reborn in other bodies. I wondered about the Unicorn. Was it truly dead? What did death mean to it? Was it out there somewhere, waiting to be reborn? What of Random, and Fiona, Julian and Llewella? Were their souls already speeding toward unborn children's forming shapes? Was I someone else in a previous life?
Growing up with a mother right out of the storybooks didn't prepare me for the letdown of reality. Deirdre was a legend. I had always thought that when I found Mom, she would answer all of my questions. Variga had believed that Deirdre was one of the Prime Spirits, servants of Brigit. When Caine found me and told me the truth, I discovered that I knew less than I had thought possible. After ten years with him, I still knew almost nothing.
* * *
When I finally sauntered downstairs two hours later, Gwydion and the Fey Magician were sitting with their feet up on the table. Gwydion was chewing on his embroidered skullcap and shaking his head. As I approached, I could hear him muttering to himself. Lord Tufty was smoking a long-handled pipe and staring off into the middle distance.
"Well?" I prompted.
They both came alert with a start. Tufty coughed and Gwydion pounded him on the back. He shook his head at me.
"It's nothing, boy," he pulled on his forked beard.
"Nothing?"
"No, not exactly…."
Knowing Gwydion, I waited.
"We can't tell what it is, only what it isn't," he explained helplessly. "It isn't cellular, in the strictest sense. In fact, it doesn't appear to be organic."
"What does it appear to be?"
At this the Fey Lord shrugged. Gwydion unfolded his skullcap and set it back on his pate.
"It ain't normal, that's for sure."
I left the two of them to their gloom and went to look for Giselle. A servant informed me that Flora and her daughter were in the Jeweler's workshop. I got directions and found the place. It was crowded. Giselle and Flora stood inside the room, with Raj and Corwin hovering just outside the door. I joined the hoverers. They looked at me expectantly. I didn't want to let them down, so I told Corwin what I had been wanting to tell him for an eternity.
"Merlin is King in Chaos," I said.
He looked shocked, but only half as shocked as I expected. He turned his empty stare on me for perhaps ten seconds.
"Perhaps I should speak with Dara," was all he said. Raj and I exchanged confused glances.
"Are you on good terms with your son?" Raj asked Corwin.
"We'll see." Corwin rubbed his eyes wearily.
Giselle shuffled out of the little chamber.
"It's done," she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. "I'm exhausted. Goodnight gentlemen." She turned and bumped into the wall. Flora sidled up and took her daughter by the hand and shoulder.
"I'll take care of her," Flora said. "It's on the—oh," she paused. Corwin had already entered the jeweler's workshop and was holding the horn. "Never mind." Flora said and led Giselle slowly away.
Corwin held the horn up to the light as Raj and I came closer to get a better look. The horn was the same: pearlescent white, spiral, almost two feet long. Capping its base was a silver-white lid of metal. Inscribed around the rim where the metal overlapped the edge was a series of ogham in Fey script. The characters glowed with a bluish darkness.
Freaky. I hoped that it would keep the Unicorn stuff in and keep the bad guys out. I had already asked a lot of Govian, so I silently sent a hope to Brigit. One more deity looking over us couldn't hurt.
One thing it wouldn't do was leave Corwin's side. The way he wrapped up the horn and strapped it to his belt had a decidedly "do or die" air. Raj looked approving. Corwin merely looked stoic and strode away. We watched him go.
"How were the Courts of Chaos?" Raj asked me.
I started to tell him, then stopped.
"Martin should hear this, too," I said. So we climbed the steps to the Royal offices. The Seneschale recognized us and checked to see if Martin was available. There were the usual two-dozen important-looking people rushing around in the outer chamber. After only a moment Lady Iseult returned and motioned us to enter. I shut the door behind us.
Martin didn't look particularly happy to see us, but that was understandable. I kept my report brief. Martin told us that a contingent of Priests of the Church of the Unicorn would be arriving from Kashfa in the morning. Apparently, everyone was eager to get a new pontiff as soon as possible. That didn't make sense to me. Why the rush? But Martin was in no mood to debate theosophy. Raj and I scooted out of there as quickly as possible.
We stood outside the doors to the Royal Chambers.
"Is there somewhere we are supposed to be now?" I asked.
"Dinner is at eight," Raj rubbed his chin, "and Gabriel said something about meeting before that."
"Why?"
"I don't know," Raj said. "But if Brand's son is involved, you can bet it's something devious."
"Wonderful. Let's find him before he does something stupid."
We set off determinedly, asking servants as we went. Our worst fears wear confirmed as they led us in an ever-downward spiral. At the door to the Pattern Room, my shoulders fell.
"If it makes you feel any better," Raj said with mock cheerfulness, "I'm pretty sure I can kill him if we need to."
"Then who would undo what he's done?"
"Good point."
The door was magically barred. I called up my wizard's sight and looked at it. The spell was woven with hints of trump energy and hints of the four elements: earth, fire, water, and air. It was Gabriel's signature.
Raj stood patiently while I dismantled the spell. When I nodded at him, he pushed the door. It opened with a faint creak.
The Patternlight radiated from inside. Raj raised an eyebrow at me and I peered in, sorcerous lens held in front of me.
Big mistake. Looking at the Pattern through a sorcerous lens was like taking every drug I had ever heard of, all at the same time, with compound effects. The lens vanished and I fell to my knees. Luckily, the after-effects were negligible. I told Raj I was fine, but he was already inside the door with his sword and curved dagger drawn.
"Oh, knock that off," I heard Gregory's voice echo from inside the vaulted chamber. "It's only us here."
"Right," Raj sheathed his weapons as I entered.
"Why was the door barred?" I asked.
"Ask Gabriel," Gregory gestured at my redheaded cousin. He hadn't noticed us as he was rapt in meditation, seated in lotus position at the edge of the Pattern.
"Has he been like that for long?" Raj inquired.
"About twenty minutes," Gregory said.
We looked at Gabriel. His eyes were half-closed, focused above the Pattern somewhere. I walked over to him and prodded him with the toe of my boot.
"Wake up, Sunshine," I smiled as he blinked at me. "Nap time is over."
Gabriel was still in a stupor, so I set his cloak on his shoulders.
"Um," he ummed. "Thanks, Aedan."
"You're welcome, cousin."
Raj and Gregory were discussing the incident in the Hall. Apparently Gregory and Gabriel had brainwashed all of the guards present at the death of the Unicorn into believing it hadn't happened.
"Well, all of them except one," Gregory admitted.
"Why not him as well?" Raj asked suspiciously.
"We tried," Gregory answered. "He was resistant."
"It might have ruined his mind had we pushed harder," Gabriel said.
"So what did you do?" Raj asked.
"Threaten his life and the lives of his wife and children should he ever mention it to anyone," Gregory said smugly.
"Good job," Raj patted Julian's son on the shoulder. I didn't say anything. It seemed a rather cavalier way to treat a person's life.
"Plus we gave him a few gold crowns," Gabriel amended.
Oh. That was okay then.
The four of us moved away from the edge of the Cosmic Squiggle. I thought we were leaving, but Gabriel stopped us.
"I have some news," he said.
"What, you mean staring at the Pattern for the last hour has actually caused you to learn something?" Gregory asked incredulously.
"No, I knew this before."
"And you couldn't tell me?"
"I needed time to think about it."
"So," Gregory glared at Gabriel, "I've been sitting here guarding your back for the past hundred minutes so you could THINK?!?"
"Basically, yes." Gabriel was too young to know that this was the wrong answer.
"What a load of shit!" Gregory exclaimed. Raj restrained him as Gabriel stepped back a couple paces.
"No no no," Gabriel entreated. "I needed to meditate on the Pattern to learn this."
"Yeah, right." Gregory shrugged off Raj's hold and looked sullenly at Gabriel.
"Well, it's too late now," Raj said. "Let's go find some comfy chairs and hear what Gabriel has to say."
"This information shouldn't leave this room," Gabriel said. "I especially don't think Martin should hear it."
That got my attention for a moment before I remembered it was Gabriel speaking. He was prone to ominous foreshadowing followed by disappointingly hollow theories lacking substantial facts.
"Can't we go someplace warm and cozy and discuss this?" I asked.
"I won't tell you outside of this room," Gabriel pronounced.
Great. Wonderful. Stuck in this cavern with only the spooky blue floorlight to fight off the dampness and cold. Someone should put a couch down here.
So we stood around and listened to Gabriel speculate. He told us that Brand was "really surprised" by what had happened in the Hall, but not for the expected reasons. According to Gabriel, Brand, Fiona, and Bleys had planned to kill the Unicorn in just such a manner some forty years ago. However, the plan was supposed to have been cancelled.
"Brand said it was Fiona's idea," Gabriel said. "She had the contact in the Courts to get the Chaos Claw that would slay the poor beast."
"So why did it occur now?" Raj asked.
"I don't know," Gabriel admitted.
"Was it possible that the whole thing had been in some sort of stasis," I suggested, "awaiting the triggering event?"
"It did seem to start during the High Priest's speech," Gregory said.
"I have an hypothesis on this subject," Gabriel began. We all groaned. "No, wait. Let me ride this theory train out. Actually, there are several trains running right now." He elaborated. I zoned out and cannot recall a single word of what he said. I was profoundly grateful for this, for when I came back to the present, Raj and Gregory both wore dazed expressions. Gabriel finally stopped talking.
"…which is why I think we should do a Trump scrye right now."
"Right here?" Raj asked.
"Yes, I was hoping for some dinner soon," Gregory eyed the door.
"This will only take a minute," Gabriel said.
We glared at him.
"Well, ten minutes," he added.
"If this is completely useless, I say we shave his head," Raj suggested. Gregory and I nodded in agreement.
Gabriel knelt down on the floor of the cave and took out his deck. He shuffled it a dozen times, then laid the cards out.
"Our present situation," he began. "A nearly impossible task.
"A major influence: King of Wands, a passionate, opinionated man."
"Who could that be?" I asked.
"Bleys, maybe," Gregory suggested.
"Or Caine," Raj added.
"Or Oberon, or Osric, or Corwin…" I said. Raj shrugged.
"Our goal, or ultimate hope," Gabriel continued. "A journey, change of residence. A practical action."
"It would be nice to have something practical come out of all this," Gregory said.
"But a 'change of residence'?" Raj half-closed one eye in that way of his. "That doesn't make sense."
"The far past: theft, a dishonorable action," Gabriel said.
"Osric's sword?" Raj suggested. I thought about the rumors of how the Jewel of Judgment had come into Amber's possession but said nothing.
"Recent events," Gabriel said. "Abandonment, a search for new paths.
"The near future: a wasteful search, lack of effort, a useless gesture.
"That seems to be our role in this charade," Gregory said.
"Don't be so cynical, Gregory," Raj admonished. "I intend to be the hero in this play."
"The self," Gabriel went on, "Solitude, introspection, a search for awareness."
I could have made several cutting remarks about Gabriel's search for awareness, but I kept quiet.
"Feelings: hesitancy causes a loss," he said.
"Hopes and fears: sorrow, loss."
"That doesn't sound particularly hopeful," I said.
"The final outcome," Gabriel paused. We all leaned over him expectantly. He turned over the card. It was the Five of Swords. "Failure, defeat, trickery. A loss decreed by the gods."
That wasn't exactly heartening.
"I say we shave him," Raj suggested.
"Wait!" Gabriel held out his hands in appeal. "I need to check the resonances."
We let him. Brand, Bleys, Fiona, and Gerard all resonated with the Theft card. The redheads were lumped together before the Patternfall War, so perhaps they had stolen something at that time—maybe it meant their slaying of the Unicorn. I didn't know. Gerard was the keeper of Osric's sword.
Benedict's Trump resonated with the Eight of Cups, the search for new paths/abandonment card. That made sense.
The useless gesture was apparently Llewella's.
Osric, Brand, and Merlin all resonated with the final card, the gloomy ending of it all.
We stood in morose silence for about a minute.
"I'll get the barber," Gregory said.
Gabriel stopped in the midst of gathering up his cards and looked up with a genuine look of fright on his face.
"Oh, we're just kidding, Gabriel." I said. Raj and Gregory both looked sharply at me, but neither of them said anything.
"I have to admit that this reading is influenced by my own moods," Gabriel said.
"You need professional, psychological help," I told him.
"I have been feeling a bit depressed lately."
"It shows," Raj said.
As we climbed the stairs, we discussed what we would do next. Raj and Gregory were going to seek Bleys out in Shadow. In an attempt to forestall a lengthy ride, I tried to trump Bleys. No response.
Gabriel told us Brand's side of the story about the capture of Finnvarra's court, Flora, and Giselle.
"My father didn't turn the Fey to stone," Gabriel told us. "He said that he owed them some debts and he didn't want to pay, so he locked them up."
"However," Raj argued, "if he were to release them, he might have to repay them."
"I didn't ask," Gabriel admitted.
We parted ways at the top of the stairs.
* * *
The dinner function was scheduled for eight o'clock, so I had over two hours before I had to be getting ready. I grabbed my cloak and walked along the outer wall of the castle, making my way to the Western Gate.
There's a spot about a third of the way down the Western Stair where the landing is sheltered somewhat from the southerly winds. It was a good place to watch life happen: sunrises, gulls riding the thermals, ships in the harbor. I sat on the stone landing and dangled my bare feet over the edge. Autumn's cool evening settled over me.
Corwin had told me, several drunken times, of his ill-fated attempt to conquer Amber with Bleys. There were several stains on the landing, and I often tried to discern which ones were old blood. A spell could have told me for sure, but that would have ruined the game.
I couldn't help but think what a crazy lot my family was. It took me nearly eight years with Caine before I admitted that they were my family; I had always hoped that Mom would show up and tell me it was all a ruse, that she was descended from some other, all-powerful, immortal clan. That never happened.
Caine's opinions of his family never wavered, at least in public. Even after a whole cask of rum he wouldn't admit to liking any of them, only to trusting some of them more than the others. He always thought that Corwin was one of the most dangerous of his half-siblings, not just because of his former ambitions for the throne, but primarily for his alleged ruthlessness. Corwin of old was ambitious. The Corwin I met was a lush. More recently, he was alternately a dedicated servant of the Crown or a secretive superiority complex with his own agenda. Well, Caine, I thought, Corwin is dangerous once more.
My mother's brother, my closest relative, he was a completely different man sober than he was when he was drunk. I felt like I hardly knew him anymore. He spent nearly all of his time assisting Martin with running the Kingdom. Honestly, he was more fun before, especially if you caught him early enough in the day that he wasn't completely gone. After only a bottle or three, he was a blast. Now he seemed unhappy, burdened by the weight of the Unicorn's request. What had she told him? Something about duty I guessed. So he had committed himself to helping Martin.
But I wondered, would Corwin make a better King than Martin? I almost thought he would. He knew more of what was involved, what was at stake. He had lived centuries longer, and surely that had to count for something. Martin's only claim to fame was his father's blood. Given the lack of precedence in deciding Amber's throne, I didn't think that would be worth much if someone else laid claim.
The gulls cawed and glided across the sky. I took out a piece of paper and made an airplane. A simple guidance spell only took ten minutes to craft, then my aircraft dove into the birds' airspace. They ignored it for the most part, so I was able to execute a few fancy maneuvers. However, if I flew it too close to a bird, he would make a lunge for it. I grew bored after fifteen minutes and let the paper toy make its own way, inexorably, to the blue-green sea below.
* * *
Dinner was a somber affair. Aside from my male cousins, Martin, Flora and Gerard were there. Magni was still nowhere to be seen, but I didn't really consider him family, not like Gregory, Gabriel, and Raj. In my six months in Amber, they were the people I knew. Sure, Magni had walked the Pattern, but even he didn't know how he fit in. He was fun to hang around with, but he had only been here for a couple days when the crisis began.
Giselle was another story. As I blew on my soup to cool it, I realized that she, too, was an outsider here. She was born and raised in the Fey realms, and it showed. She was capricious and nonsensical, explaining things away with a flick of her wrist. I have to admit that my reputation for impetuousness is not entirely undeserved, but I always have reasons for what I do. I wasn't so sure about Flora's daughter. She seemed to know a great deal about the Unseelie, especially Ailill. Wasn't he one of the "bad guys"? Her long-term association with him and with Mandor/The Dagda lent her a dubious air. In fact, the nicest thing that I could say about Giselle without reservation was that she had a great ass. It was truly stunning, and those tight, leather dresses didn't detract from its allure. I shouldn't let it distract me from the fact that Giselle was Fey first and Amberite second.
But those of us present were all dedicated to the preservation of this Kingdom. Gerard's integrity had never been questioned, even by Caine. Flora, for all of her attention to superficial issues, had always worked to support the throne. Martin was certainly showing his loyalty with the long hours and hard work. I could never do that, nor would I want a job that asked that of me. Life is too short to waste time being unhappy.
Of course, there are some things worth fighting for. In my half year in Amber, I had come to love it. It wasn't as pretty as Gealorea, with her rugged landscape and stratified sky, but it spoke to me. Kolvir seemed somehow, primeval. It had the weight of centuries behind it, as did my family. I knew that although Gealorea would always be mine, Amber was my home.
* * *
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