Time plays tricks on you
between Shadows. If you shift slowly and cautiously, you generally don't encounter
drastic differences. It still usually takes about a day for the sun to rise
and fall and rise again. Any temporal fluctuations are relatively gradual.
Hellriding, on the other hand, brings out the worst array that Shadows have
to offer. It might be midnight for ten minutes, high noon for five, then plunge
you into any time in-between. Add the extreme weather in to the mix and you've
got an interesting trip. But the changes don't usually occur suddenly. There
is almost always some hint of what's to come.
Trump travel, however, fails to obey these rules. Time
in Amber flows at an inconstant pace when you're away. I had ridden for over
two hours before Gregory joined me. We rode together for another two hours
before we encountered the desert landscape where we had spoken with the Tower
and fought with the Seraph. Figure about an hour spent with the white-skinned
überwomen, and that should be equal to dawn in Amber, right?
Wrong.
It was almost three hours after midnight as I strode through
my ancestral home. I had stopped to wash and change my clothes, dumping castle-sized
amounts of sand from my boots onto Morren's clean floor. He made a face but
declined to speak. Perhaps my sudden appearance at such a rude hour, travel-worn
and still emanating the stink of battle, deterred him from commenting. He
was a good servant. I wondered what would happen to him when I opened the
Way and the next Cycle began.
Actually, what would happen to all of us? From what the
Tower had said, the elder generation would have no place in the future. That
seemed to be holding true, too. For after having lived for centuries, many
of them had died within a few weeks of each other. I admit that I had semi-unwittingly
contributed to that, but their time was over; it wasn't a question of if,
it was a question of when they would die.
This morose thought left me with an unpleasant taste in
my mouth and the inevitable logical conclusion. With a heavy mental sigh,
I closed the door behind me and began prowling the halls.
I was too wound up to sleep. Too much was happening too
quickly. I had nearly been killed less than an hour ago and the world continued
on without seeming to notice. I wondered if my mother had returned. If so,
why hadn't she replied to my note? She had been gone from Amber for a while;
if she was back, maybe she was awake. I resolved to listen at her door. If
I heard movement within, I would knock.
I heard movement. I also heard cursing and my name. Deirdre
sounded furious, as if she were eager to tear me limb from limb.
I knocked.
The door opened marginally to reveal Brielle's terrified
face. The volume of my mother's anger increased.
I smiled reassuringly. She pulled the door open a little
more and opened her mouth to speak to me. A rattle and clank behind her caused
us both to look.
My mother, partially armored and clutching at the straps
that held her left cuisse to her belt, strode into the entry chamber. Brielle
stepped back with a whimper. I stepped silently through the open door. Deirdre
clenched her teeth and scowled at me. She waved at Brielle dismissively.
"Get out," she hissed. Brielle curtseyed and escaped past
me into the hallway. I shut the door behind her. Silver motes of light whirled
around it a moment later. I turned to see the last gestures of a warding spell
that felt familiar to me.
It was fuelled by Tir power.
"Yes," Deirdre said between angry breaths. "We share it."
"I know," I said, and moved a step away from the door.
Deirdre stood where she was, the leather strap still gripped in her hand.
"Do you? Do you understand what Tir is-what it shows?"
"Possibilities, opportunities, things that are and are
not…."
"More," she said. "So much more."
"Then no. I don't understand. There was no one to teach
me. I have been fumbling about on my own, without any guidance. I have only
limited access to the City in the Sky."
She moved quickly. Before I could react she was close,
her breath hot on my face.
"How dare you?" She said. "I spent years, years that felt
like centuries, drifting in that cold nothingness. I couldn't…couldn't, I--"
She grimaced and pressed her knuckles into her forehead.
The forgotten cuisse slid to the floor with a crash. After a moment, I knelt,
pulled it up my mother's leg, and fastened it to her belt. I buckled the straps
around her leg. Then I stood, stepped back and regarded her as she purposefully
slowed her breathing to a normal rate. After a few moments, she had calmed
herself down somewhat.
Who was this woman? I thought. My mother, yes. Corwin's
sister. Oberon's daughter. Those were empty terms; they told me nothing. Queen
of the Fey Realms? Perhaps. What had she been doing with the King of the Fey?
I had never learned the answer to that question. Now it seemed unlikely that
I ever would.
Whatever she was, this woman was definitely not the vision
of my childhood fantasies. She had her own strengths and weaknesses, and undoubtedly
many faults as well. I'm sure I was a disappointment to her as well.
"Tir showed me something." She raised her head proudly.
Tear tracks glistened on her cheeks.
My heart felt tight, like it was being squeezed. The hair
on the back of my neck stood up.
"Oh?" I tried to sound disinterested, but I suspected knew
what she was talking about. I saw the fire in her eyes and then I was certain.
Her lips trembled. Fresh tears rolled down her face, and her eyes pierced
me with harsh determination.
"Would you rather be dead to me," she whispered, "or just
dead?"
The bonds around my heart constricted further. I had to struggle to breathe.
"I have something I must say first," I said. Sweat drenched
my palms and under my arms.
"I give you that one minute."
"A great change is coming. It will unmake everything. I
know that Amber, that all of us, will be undone."
"And you embrace that change," she turned her head away
in disgust.
"That is irrelevant. It comes. It is inevitable."
"You make it so by your actions. You killed him."
"No," I lied.
"I saw it." She made a fist and held it between us. I didn't
move. "I saw it, Aedan."
"I don't have time to explain," I pleaded. "The great change-"
"Move." She brushed me aside and strode to her antechamber.
She bent and picked up her breastplate and began to strap it on.
I watched her. Her tears had dried up, but mine had just
begun. Neither of us said anything for a long minute.
I walked up to her. She ignored me. I leaned in to kiss
her on the cheek, but she pushed my head away with the back of her hand. I
faltered and fell back a step.
"Goodbye mother," I said.
I turned and walked slowly away, out the door and into
the dark of night.
* * *
I was sitting on Samineh's
lap, a strand of her long, red hair curled around my little finger. She held
the large book in front of us both as I struggled to read the Ogham runes.
I wiggled and kicked my feet out, occasionally knocking the book from her
hands. She patiently retrieved it and continued with my lesson.
"Now, Aedan," she said warmly, "if little boys are going
to grow up to be big strong men, they have to learn how to read."
"That's not true. Unwyr can't read, and he's a grown-up."
"Unwyr is strong, that's true, but-"
"But nothing!" I kicked the book free again and tugged
my hand free from her hair. I crossed my arms and frowned, tasting salt. "Huh?"
I exclaimed, surprised.
The Steward let the book lie on the floor of the solar.
She wiped my cheeks with the sleeve of her undertunic.
"She'll be back, don't you worry."
"When?" I snuffled and tried to stop crying.
"I don't know. But she always comes back." Samineh smoothed
down my hair and bounced me on her knee. "You know that."
"But she's never been gone this long before, not without
telling."
"Something must have come up."
"Like a monster?" I asked.
"Yes," Samineh laughed, "Although in your mother's case
it's probably a monster called family."
"The ones who live far away in a big castle and can fly?"
"Yes, although I don't know if any of them can fly…."
"Momma can."
"Well, dear, I don't know." She patted my knee.
"I know it. I know she can."
"People can't really fly, dear."
"Momma's not a people. She's more better."
"Aedan, your mother is a person, like you and me."
I shook my head many times.
"She told me that she could fly, like a big, white owl."
"She's just a person." Samineh poked my belly. "She is
strong and powerful, but she's human. She isn't perfect."
I jumped down off her lap and clenched my fists at my sides.
"You take that back!"
The Steward knelt and reached to put her arms around me.
I stepped back quickly out of her reach.
"Aedan-"
"My momma is too perfect. You'll see. And she can fly!
And when she comes back, she's gonna teach me and then I'll fly too. I will."
I ran screaming to my room and cried through most of the
night. It was two years before Samineh admitted that Deirdre wasn't coming
back and much longer before I learned how to fly.
* * *
I walked and walked, aimlessly
letting my feet find their own way. At some point I must have removed my boots
and socks, for I remember the harsh cold of the flagstones on the soles of
my bare feet. An hour or two passed. I blinked and saw the sunrise.
I was leaning over the balcony above the Western Gardens.
Dawn spread across the sky all rosy and warm. Far out over the sea the birds
were starting to circle. I looked down at the harbor and saw Amber's fishing
fleet leaking out to sea in small groups. Directly below me the garden was
still in night's shadow, only starting to glow with the reflected light of
early morning. Besides flowers, I could smell a trace of mint, like the Vella
beds of the Sundeath Sea. To my left I could see the King's balcony, where
Random had first talked to me. That night was the start of an outrageous adventure,
just as advertised: Meet the King of Everything, test your spirit in a life
or death struggle with your ancestry, and live to see the multiverse.
How long ago had that been? Two months? No, less. It seemed
like years had passed. A decade on the low seas with Caine had seemed like
an eternity, but it didn't compare to the past six weeks in Amber.
Amber is different, Caine had said. He was right
about that too.
My thoughts were interrupted by a knocking on the door
of my mind. I answered. It was Gabriel. He was somewhere dark, barely lit
by torchlight. Rough natural stone walls framed his young visage.
"Aedan, I need to borrow Grayswandir."
Well, that was certainly ballsy of him. We had been on
increasingly poor terms as of late, but that didn't stop Brand's son from
asking for the ultimate source of my power.
"No," I said, and moved as if to conclude our brief conversation.
"Wait! I need it for something important."
My curiosity was piqued. I was tempted to loan him the
thing just to see what he would do with it. But I knew the Tower would scold
me. As I thought of her, my left eye burned. It felt comforting and pure.
"Bad things happen when I give it to others," I said, remembering
Corwin and Caine.
"Brand has committed suicide." Gabriel spoke calmly, without
the expected emotional overtones. He wasn't crying. In fact, he looked a little
mad. Actually, I could understand that. It didn't make me loathe him any less,
but I could empathize.
"Gabriel," I said gently, "Grayswandir can't bring Brand
back to life."
"No," he said crossly. "I want to use it to bury him."
"Have you tried using a shovel?" It was obvious he wasn't
telling me the whole story.
"It's not that simple." He frowned and sighed. "I need
a favor. Perhaps you'd better come through."
I grasped my cousin's hand and stepped off the balcony.
I emerged in a cave that seemed familiar. It was dank and
spacious, with incongruous smells of sulfur and flowers drifting in from the
long tunnel at the near end. We had fought Benedict here. Gabriel noticed
my gaze and nodded.
"Yes, it's the same cave."
"You intend to bury your father here?" This place was close
to the Keep of the Four Worlds, but hardly a place befitting a Prince of Amber.
"No. He's nearby. I'll take you there in a moment. But
first, I need you to promise me one thing."
"You want a favor and a promise?" I couldn't help but show
my amazement.
"Yes." He set his mouth in what passed for determination.
He must really be desperate, I thought.
"What is it?"
"Don't use your ring at all. I'll protect you while you're
there."
"Where is 'there'?"
"The elemental plane of fire."
"You realize that Grayswandir is the ring?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Therefore if I am going to use it to bury Brand, I'll
have to-" I paused, caught in a thought. "How do you propose burying him on
the plane of fire anyway?"
"Uh, it's complicated." He shifted his weight from one
foot to the other. I shook my head. He was hiding something again.
"Never mind. Lead on."
"First you must promise."
I regarded him a moment: all freckles and frustration,
a study in adolescent angst.
"How about if I promise not to kill you with my ring until
after we've buried Brand? Would that suffice?"
"Yes, that will do." He nodded once, then again to himself,
and began walking out the tunnel. Apparently he hadn't noticed the deception.
I hadn't actually promised anything. Looking at it another way, I would be
free to commit cousinicide after we buried Brand.
I followed him out of the cave. A couple miles to our right
I saw a few blue dolmens and the big, ugly, stone heap that Magni coveted
and Gabriel currently owned. Brand's son led us perpendicular to it, toward
a curtain of haze and smoke. Ten minutes later we were standing before it,
the smell of sulfur tingling in my nose. Gabriel mumbled, scratched his chin,
and we were surrounded by a protective sphere. It looked fairly powerful to
my sorcerous eye.
Protected from the heat and flames, we passed through the
wall of smoke and floated into the plane of fire.
"I'm a little warm," I said.
"Really?" Gabriel's head jerked in my direction, his eyes
wide and full of fear.
"Nah." I smiled. "Just kidding."
He grunted unhappily. We spent the next few minutes in
silence. Then our little bubble compressed against something. We stopped.
Gabriel mumbled some more and dug in his ear. The front section of our sphere
expanded outward until it enclosed the form of a man lying on a stone bench.
Brand had gone to his end wearing his finest green silk doublet. His arms
were folded atop his chest, holding his ivory-headed cane.
He looked like he had found peace at last.
* * *
We stood silently on the
deck of the Valiant as Caine spoke the eulogy. A hot summer sun beat down
on us all, the three dozen members of Valiant's crew and the nine officers
of the other ships that had known Jack Chandler.
"He died as he wanted to die," Caine said, his voice carrying
over the slap of waves against the hull, "At sea, before he was too old to
hoist a sail. He was a good man, when he needed to be, and a downright bastard
the rest of the time."
The crew chuckled. Jack had been one of the blacker souls
on board.
"We commend his body to the sea. Let his flesh sustain
her life as she has nourished his and may his bones find rest on her quiet
bed. Blessings of the Unicorn on you, Jack. You'll be missed."
He paused while we all bowed our heads. Four sailors lifted
the shrouded body, wrapped ceremonially in a heavy brass chain, and slid it
over the rail. Jack Chandler's body sank quickly beneath the waves..
"Who would speak of this man's life?" Caine asked. One
of the riggers, a wiry old veteran called Stripes stepped forward.
"I will, Cap'n," he said. He told a brief story of how
Jack Chandler had saved his life over fifteen years ago, almost by accident.
It was the first of many stories, some told that day. Many more were related
over the course of the next couple weeks.
I listened respectfully to every word, but I was more concerned
with keeping an eye on Jack's son Edward. When he first learned of his father's
death, he hadn't spoken for half a day. He sat with his back against the mizzenmast
for nearly nine hours, seemingly oblivious to the heat of the sun burning
his exposed skin. The rest of the crew had left him alone.
As the men recalled the facts and fictions of Jack's life,
Edward listened with a stony expression. He didn't react at all, like he was
numb or empty. His father had served with Caine for over twenty years. Edward
had come on board about six years ago, so there were plenty of tales he hadn't
heard before-mostly because men knew Jack would beat them senseless if they
repeated what he had done. He had stolen from children, hit women, and defaced
nearly every statue he ever saw with his urine. As my uncle had intimated,
he was a foul-mouthed, self-centered prick who cared little or nothing for
others' opinions. However, he was a good sailor. He obeyed orders without
question, honored his many debts, and never hesitated when it counted.
Since Edward had joined our crew, his father treated him
like a child. Jack swore at him for no reason, blamed his son for his own
failures, and ignored him the rest of the time. Edward tried to pretend that
it didn't bother him, but everyone could see the truth. He drank heavily,
gambled, and fought with anyone who was willing. Privately the crew had placed
bets on how many weeks he would last on the Valiant. He had outlasted them
all by years.
So it was quite a surprise when, less than two months after
his father's death, Edward hung himself from the yards.
I never understood that act. I didn't know then, and don't
know now, what makes people commit suicide. Edward was free, finally, of his
father's constant disapproval.
Yet he chose to die. It didn't make any sense.
Life is always worth living, if only for the possibility
of what may yet happen. The future is unwritten. There is always hope.
* * *
I stopped and let Gabriel
approach the body alone. He stared down at his father's face for several long
moments. Then he raised his head, closed his eyes and twitched once. He turned
to look at me and held out his left hand.
"Aedan, give me Grayswandir."
"That wasn't the deal."
"I know, but I don't trust you." His hand was held out
toward me. I could have sliced off his fingers in a heartbeat.
"Then we have come all this way for nothing."
"You don't understand!" He stomped his foot.
"No, cousin," I moved to stand within sword range of him.
"It is you who lacks understanding. You give me no reason to trust you and
Grayswandir belongs to me."
He wrestled with that for a long moment. I took the opportunity
to examine the body. I could see no obvious cause of death. There were no
wounds. His clothing was whole. His face looked serene. However, the back
of his neck was abnormally dark. I lifted one shoulder. His whole back was
scorched black. I looked a question at Gabriel.
"He swallowed something," he explained. "I need it."
I thought for a moment, then chuckled. The Tower had said
it was gone. Now I knew where.
"Did he? Why not create a sorcerous cord to reach down-"
As I was talking, I opened Brand's mouth and answered my own question. His
mouth and throat were full of hardened molten gold.
"The body is Real," Gabriel said. "It is immune to my spells."
Gabriel was wrong about my being tempted. I wanted him
to have Werewindle. Willingly or not, his using it would strengthen the Tower.
I caused Grayswandir to appear and held it over my head.
Waves of gray stuff flowed into it. I felt my power increasing.
"Put up your wards," I said. "I'm going to ruin his fancy
outfit."
"DO NOT WAKE ME!" A voice boomed out of the air around
us.
"I don't think he's dead." I said.
"In that case," Gabriel leaned in, close to his father's
face, and shouted "I'm sorry about the gold!"
I let most of the energy leave me. Gabriel put his hand
on Brand's forehead and closed his eyes in concentration. Grayswandir diminished
and became a ring on my finger again.
After a couple minutes Gabriel shook his head.
"I can't communicate with him," he said.
"How about via Trump?"
"I've tried that already."
"Did you try just asking him for the sword?"
He looked daggers at me, but grudgingly admitted that he
hadn't. I bet he hadn't tried the sorcerous cord trick before pouring the
gold down his father's throat either. For such a smart guy, Gabriel could
be a complete idiot at times.
Gabriel teleported with Brand's body back to the Keep.
I took the protective bubble and retreated back to the terrain surrounding
the cave. I got the impression that Gabriel didn't want me in his father's
fortress. What was he doing there? Magni was right about one thing, at least:
Gabriel was up to something. If I was going to open the Way in his backyard,
I would either have to convince him to help me or overcome his defenses.
Speaking of overcoming his defenses, I tried to reach Magni
via Trump. I knew he had several ideas of how to penetrate to the chamber
containing the Fount of Power, but he didn't answer. Without proper scouting
it would be almost impossible to take the castle by force. Using the Fount,
Gabriel could probably hold off any sorcerous attack while his troops repelled
all physical attacks. That limited my options severely.
What exactly was I trying to do anyway? Open the Door,
I thought. Start the Cycle's next phase. But how? I had changed the
universe once before, when I had tried to heal Martin's wound. That time,
I had summoned as much energy as Grayswandir could give me and just nudged
things a bit. The result had been dramatic, but apparently still the same
Cycle. At least, that's what I guessed from what I had learned.
I had accidentally changed everything back when I had killed
the specter of Corwin in the Temple beneath the Pattern. Death was the key
to opening the Door to the next multiverse. It was a necessary evil. I already
knew that the Fount of Power was the proper location. I just needed to get
all of the elements in place.
By the time Gabriel came trudging back up the trail, I
had decided to give him one last chance.
"If you had just accepted Werewindle from the Tower in
the first place, you would have it right now."
"Yes, but at what cost?" He sat down at my feet, slightly
winded. I knelt beside him.
"It is an artifact of great power. Of course it has a cost.
If you think that by stealing it from your father's pseudo-corpse you'll get
it for free, you're wrong."
"We'll see," he said.
"There is another way, you know."
He looked skeptically at me, then motioned for me to continue.
"I'm listening."
"You could ask the Tower for it." I stood and walked a
few paces away to a flat stretch of gravel. "She gave it to Brand. Perhaps
she could retrieve it for you."
"I doubt it." He picked up a pebble and threw it down the
hill. I took out my dagger and began carving on the ground.
"Aedan, what are you doing?"
I drew eight sides and a series of curious symbols: rectangles
surrounding a circle around a strange triangle. I felt a tingle in my tongue,
toes and testicles. I knew that this would work. Ignoring Gabriel, I stood
up straight and turned my back on the design. I closed my eyes and let my
thoughts reach out.
Desire.
* * *
I leaned down to study
Giacinta's breasts more closely. Teardrop-shaped, firm, with a delightful
curve that made her dark nipples point slightly toward her chin, they hovered
a handspan from my mouth.
"What do you want?" She asked, gazing up at the blue sky
beyond Kolvir.
"Mmm?" I inquired, my eyes and tongue clearly answering
her question.
"Silly," she laughed and covered herself with slender fingers.
Her nails were painted with elaborate indigo and gold swirls.. "Not what do
you want now, but for the future. What do you want to do, to make? Who do
you want to be?"
"Um?" I shifted away, propping myself up on one elbow so
I could see her face better. Giacinta del Invirria, a Comtessa from the Golden
Circle kingdom of Tallia, was very beautiful. But even though her physical
charms hadn't exactly dissuaded me, it was her wit, charm, and rather feisty
attitude that had lead us to this place.
We were lying in a sheltered dell on the back of Mount
Kolvir, enjoying the afternoon sun in a naked and sweaty sort of way. I admired
her lithe body stretched out before me, golden brown and glistening. She turned
toward me and curled against me, arranging her jet black hair across my chest.
A few gray strands highlighted the display.
"What do you want?" I asked, my arm bent around her, my
hand resting on her back.
"I want peace," she said quietly. "I want the fighting
to end. We would gladly cede Lauretzia and Natoli if they would be content,
but it would only spur them on harder. Random would do nothing. I hope the
new King will be different."
The wind curled off the mountainside, setting the loose
leaves dancing among the tall grasses. In the distance, a bird of prey circled.
"I have never been to Tallia," I said.
"You should see it. The canals of Fy'Riyal are especially
beautiful in Summer. We could make love in the Camlita Castle at Midnight,"
She smiled at me. "It's reputed to be haunted."
"By an actual ghost?" I said. She nodded. "That does sound
interesting."
"I knew you would like that. So," she said, "tell me of
your wishes, your wildest dreams."
I caressed her back, then lower.
"Aedan," she reached around and grabbed my wrist. "Tell
me something I don't know. Be serious. Really."
I stilled my fingers and thought about it. Ten years with
Caine had driven all thoughts of wants or needs from my head. Before that
I had been a child, with a simple yearning for my mother. Now I was a man,
and I honestly had no idea. Minutes passed, and still I could think of nothing.
"I don't know," I said, and felt sad.
She must have sensed it, for she hugged me tightly.
"Start simple," she said, and kissed me on the cheek. "What
do you like to do?"
"I like performing," I said. "Playing the flute, telling
stories, and making children laugh."
"That's good."
"I enjoy helping people, although," I thought of my time
with Caine, "I would prefer to do it without having to kill anyone."
"Yes." She looked kindly at me with her dark green eyes.
"Go on."
"I think that's it. I want to make a difference, but not
just to a select few." I looked into the middle distance, thinking. It felt
right. "I want a cause, something true and noble to believe in. I want to
make the world a better place for everyone."
Giacinta snuggled closer, her voice soft in my ear.
"Well, my young prince. The future is wide open." She kissed
my cheek tenderly. "Someday, may you find your heart's desire."
* * *
"Greetings, Silver." The
Tower's hot breath on the back of my neck made my knees buckle. Her many arms
curled around me, holding me up and pressing me against her chest.
"Hello," I said, reveling in the warmth I felt flowing
into my back.
"Thou art near to the Door," she said.
"Um, hello." Gabriel stood. "Uh, I have some questions."
"This is the one that is lost to me," the Tower whispered
in my ear.
"Indeed?" Well, that ruined that plan. "But he may help
us if you answer his questions." I reluctantly disentangled myself from her
affectionate embrace.
"Speak," the Tower said. She stepped out of the octagon
and stood beside me. She looked much the same as she had when I had last seen
her: a muscular, tall woman with long white hair, piercing blue eyes, and
eight arms. She was garbed in a sleeveless white robe that fell to the midpoint
of her powerful thighs. It was open nearly to her navel in front and belted
by a metallic cord on which hung two exotic, curled daggers. I felt the stirrings
of desire.
Gabriel swallowed, then steeled himself.
"What are the bargains my father made?"
"He renewed his vow and took the last of my bindings. Then
he took it beyond my reach. He hath freed me and weakened me both." She looked
off in the distance. "It seems a waste."
"Were there four spikards?" Gabriel asked.
"I knowest only of the three that bound me. Investing them
was a risk, but it seemed a good idea. Through the artifacts, one could give
as well as receive." The Tower looked at me through narrowed eyelids. "Is
that not so?"
I tried not to blush.
"Brand had one," I said. "I have one. What of the third?
Magni said the Staff of the Serpent was taken from him by the woman we call
'Conflict.' Where is it now?"
Instead of answering, the Tower simply looked at Gabriel.
"Did Magni swear to serve you?" Gabriel asked. He looked
eager. I knew the thought of controlling an artifact of power would tempt
him. Why hadn't I brought him before the Tower earlier?
"No."
"He didn't?" Gabriel seemed genuinely surprised.
"He was too weak," she explained.
Gabriel was silent then. The Tower and I exchanged a knowing
glance as we watched the wheels turn in his brain. He wanted the spikard so
badly he was twitching.
Then he slowed down, shivered, and visibly calmed himself.
He touched the tips of his fingers to his thumbs, one at a time. It seemed
like an exercise of some sort. When he was done, he was more relaxed, less
eager.
"What is the Keep of the Four Worlds to you?" Gabriel pointed
toward the building in the distance.
"It could be the nexus of the Turning," she said, "The
beginning of the Change."
"Of the four new avatars, including yourself, who controls
it?"
"Control?" The Tower smiled as if at a child. "Dost thou
not control it?"
Gabriel blushed and intently studied the ground near his
feet.
"I believe this place is important, as does one other."
"Which one?" he asked.
The Tower regarded him silently for a few seconds.
"What dost thou give?"
"Nothing."
"And thou shalt receive it in return."
My goddess turned her back on him and walked to me. Her
hips swayed deliciously from side to side. I could see the gentle curve of
a breast peeking out from her sleeveless gown.
The Tower stood next to me and put one of her arms around
my shoulders. She held me close. I felt the cords of her muscle pressed against
my upper back.
"However," she said to my cousin, "Thou mayest yet have
what was denied to thee by thy father's rash act."
Gabriel waited expectantly. After a moment, he sighed.
"My entire life has been full of subterfuge and nuance.
For once I would appreciate some straight talk."
"Very well. Mine offer is this: take what thou wantest
from this one." She held me tighter. I suddenly realized that with two of
her right arms around me she had effectively immobilized me. "If power be
thy desire, make it thine."
Gabriel looked at me with longing in his eyes. I felt the
trickle of energy running through Grayswandir and increased it. Was this a
test of some sort? I had been completely loyal to the Tower; why would she
cast me aside for anyone, let alone someone as weak and indecisive as Gabriel?
He controlled access to the Fount of Power. Perhaps that
was it. Magni had assured me that he could access it, but maybe the Tower
didn't know that. I couldn't remember what I had told her.
Or maybe she knew of my expectation that Gabriel and I
were fated to fight. She might have been encouraging him to attack before
he was fully prepared. If we fought now and one of us fell, the Tower would
gain access to the Keep. If Gabriel won and took Grayswandir, he would be
her servant. If I won, Gabriel wouldn't bar the way to the Fount.
I concentrated on the power I felt flowing through me and
smiled at Gabriel. I knew who would win. He knew as well, for he held up his
hands in a gesture of surrender.
"No, no. I don't want to fight." He backed up a couple
steps. "I want my father's sword, not Corwin's."
"It is Corwin's no longer," I said. The Tower studied me
a moment, then released me.
"So be it," the Tower said. "I do not think that the Silver
would allow you to simply take his strength. He is powerful and predictable.
I would not give him up lightly. I will need allies in the coming battle."
"Must there be a battle?" Gabriel asked. He looked so pitiful
I almost laughed.
"Life is battle."
The wind shifted, bringing the hint of smoke. I watched
Gabriel as he struggled with his thoughts. Finally, he spoke.
"The avatar called Conflict has the other spikard."
"Yes," the Tower said.
"You already knew that?" I asked Gabriel. He ignored me.
"If you take it from her," the Tower said, "It will belong
to you."
Brand's son pondered this for a few moments. While he was
busy ruminating I thought about what I knew about the Tower's peers. The one
called Conflict I knew almost nothing about, only that she had torn the spikard
and Magni's finger off at a strange Pattern. Eve was Raj's choice. She had
attacked people at random, pursued Bleys, and killed Corwin. I had given up
trying to discern her motives.
Leviathan had apparently been Julian's creation. He existed
to consume everything, which didn't bode well for the future of humanity if
he won. It also made Gregory's allegiance seem like the act of an insane man.
The Tower promised a future of creativity, artistry, and excitement. None
of the others could even compare.
Gabriel and the Tower had continued talking while I was
thinking.
"Leviathan's presence has served to unify the others in
opposition to him. Can you not cooperate with them?" Gabriel said.
"If Leviathan makes me the only monster, then what Julian
sought might indeed come to pass. But," the Tower smiled, "There are many
monsters here. Leviathan is simple, direct, and thus, easy."
"But he is powerful."
"Yes. His power is different than our own. He has no need
of allies or servants. If it is power thou seekest, thou wouldst choose poorly
to serve him." The Tower ran a finger down Gabriel's sleeve. He shivered.
"Your father denied you the power he wielded all his life. That which should
be thine is denied thee. For what reason he did this, I knowest not."
"My father had many regrets." Gabriel walked several steps
away and returned to his deep thoughts.
When he was out of hearing range, I spoke quietly into
the Tower's delicious ear.
"The Turning, can it be soon?"
"Mmmm. Art thou so eager?" She faced me and I felt the
warmth of the sun upon my face. "Yes, I feel the cycle coming to an end. I
am strong. Thou hast done well." She caressed my chin with her fingertip.
"I am grateful."
"It is my pleasure," I exhaled.
"Yes," she laughed. "That too."
"How can I open the Door?"
"Thou knowest, Silver."
Blood, I thought, and stared at Gabriel's retreating
back.
* * *
The clouds rolled in, like
a monstrous dark gray blanket blotting out the moon and stars. Underneath
them, the ground was bathed in heavy rains. Across the open grasslands, the
trees in the Stonewood forest bent with the oncoming winds. The storm moved
toward us like a curtain of water. Every creature with any intelligence to
speak of was under shelter this night.
Caine and I stood beneath the night sky, on top of the
tallest tower of one of his fortified retreats in Shadow. Our heated conversation
was punctuated by the irregular flash of lightning and accompanying boom of
thunder. My uncle leaned against the heavy stone crenellations while I walked
around, waving my arms and trying to get him to react.
"How long must you sleepwalk through this life before you
wake up?" I railed. "You're throwing your life away."
"Mmm," he mmmed around his cigar. That and a puff of foul
smelling smoke was his most common response.
"For every tyrant we topple or every orphaned child we
avenge, there are a hundred more who go unrevenged."
"That's not a word."
"So fucking what?" I leaned against the stone next to him.
"It should be. Have the King declare it a word. Have him do something useful,
for the Unicorn's sake."
He turned sharply, the burning end of his cigar passing through the space
where my cheek had been a moment ago. I had moved away as soon as the words
were out of my mouth, knowing that mentioning the family pet would elicit
a response.
"For an ignorant lad," Caine growled as he returned to
watching the oncoming storm, "You sure talk a lot."
"For a righteous man, you don't talk nearly enough. Tell
Random what you need. Demand it from him. With a hundred ships, we could make
a difference. With a handful, we barely make a dent."
"It matters," he said, more to himself than to me. I had
heard those two words a thousand times in ten years. I had heard them enough.
"Not to me," I said. "And not to all those people whose
lives we can't save, whose deaths we can't avenge, whose Shadows we can't
set free, just because we haven't got the supplies."
"It's complicated."
The curtain of rain had reached the outer wall now. It
would pass over us in a few minutes. Lightning struck a lone tree on the edge
of the woods. It emitted a staccato crack as it fell to the soil in pieces,
followed almost immediately by a resounding boom. Below us, in the little
cove that harbored the Valiant, the rain began striking the water.
"You've been saying that for at least ten years. The situation
is not going to improve if we continue blithely on, ignoring the fact that
we're not making a bit of difference out here."
"Tell that to the Sybil," he snarled.
"That's my point!" I shouted over the increasing rumble.
"We should be telling it to King Random." I waved my arms about my head in
frustration. "Why affect one life when you could improve hundreds or thousands?
Yes, we're killing and spying for the good guys, but only on a small scale.
We're the rulers of the damned universe, Caine. Let's fix things on a grand
scale for once. 'Start at the top' you always say. Well, follow your own advice
for a change."
He stared at me, his eyes narrowing. The cigar tip glowed
an angry red. Moments passed. The rain began to fall on the stone around us.
"You're a fool," he said finally.
"And you're a coward." I strode quickly to the trap door
and pulled it open. Caine watched me go. "I'm going to do something for a
change, something that matters." I climbed down the ladder and pulled the
door shut over my head just as I saw the flash and heard the thunder. Had
lightning struck my uncle? I didn't care. I stomped across the chamber and
toward the stairs, then stopped.
Sitting on a table in the center of the room was a small,
rectangular leather carrying case. I walked over to the table and opened it.
Inside was Caine's set of family Trump cards.
I had a wicked thought. A smile crossed my face.
"I'll show you," I said quietly to myself, sorting through
the cards until I came to the one I wanted. "Things are going to change, and
I'm going to make it happen."
I concentrated on the card and felt my world expand across
Shadow, full of opportunity.
* * *
Magni spooned jelly onto
a breadroll and passed it to me. He was being extremely kind, dishing up large
amounts of the delicious food Elissa had set for us in the breakfast nook.
Piled on the table in front of us were literally hundreds of open-faced sandwiches,
apples, melons, a huge plate of carrots, bowls of nuts, a half-dozen fudge
ice-cream bars and about three dozen crumpled ice-cream bar wrappers..
"This raspberry jelly is delicious," I said with my mouth
full. "What exactly is it that you want?" I asked.
"Have you tried the apricot?"
"Yes, several times. But why do I need to eat so much?
I'm not particularly hungry."
"Let's just say," he rubbed his hands together briskly,
"That you're going to need it."
"That tells me nothing."
He laughed. I picked up a thick turkey sandwich, spread
some spicy mustard on it, and stuffed it in my mouth.
Magni leaned back in his chair and took out his deck of
trumps. It was noticeably thicker than mine. I glanced at the faces of the
cards and saw several abstract images in strange combinations of color. Magni
began shuffling through the cards, occasionally studying one for a moment
before continuing.
I felt a prickle in my brain. I gulped down a half-glass
of apple juice and answered. It was Gregory. He was dressed in his blackened
plate mail armor. It was splattered with a gallon or two of blood. His eyes
were even darker than before, if that was possible. I tried to look away and
couldn't.
"Aedan," he said in a rough voice. "I think Giselle's plan
won't work. We should wait."
Had he fought with one of the metaphysical beings by himself? He had dark
circles under his eyes and his hair was messed up.
"Events are moving quickly," I replied. "We might not have
the luxury of choosing our time to act."
"Giselle won't help us anyway. I tried."
"But it was her idea!" I protested.
"You know how fickle she is. She's in Chaos again, waiting
to marry Merlin."
"What?"
"That's what she said, I think." He rubbed his forehead.
"It's hard to remember exactly…."
"Gregory, what happened?"
"Julian wanted to see me. He said goodbye and then he hugged
me. He's never done that before. Then, he collapsed. I checked and he was
dead."
That didn't make sense. Was Gregory concealing something?
Undoubtedly. But I didn't care as long as he would help me open the Door to
the next universe.
He glanced over my shoulder.
"Is that the breakfast nook in Amber? Who's there?"
"Magni."
"Who's not there?"
"Everyone else," I answered.
"Good. Pull me through."
I did.
"Whoa," Magni said. "Whose blood?"
"Mostly my own," Gregory said. "Is that food?"
Gregory shot forward and began stuffing his mouth with whatever was on the
table. Along with three or four platefuls of food, I'm sure he ate a couple
knives, at least one jelly jar, and all of the ice cream bar wrappers.
Behind him, Magni gestured, silently asking about the strangeness
of Gregory's eyes. I shrugged and mouthed "He's with us" at him. He nodded
and looked worried, then returned to shuffling through his cards.
"What are you looking for?" I asked.
"My Trump of the Fount."
"Where did you get that?"
"I made it." He grinned. Now I knew how he intended to
gain access to the place. I wondered if he had more of a plan than simply
trumping in.
"Gabriel will be rather surprised," Gregory said around
a mouthful of food.
"You don't know the half of it," Magni said. His hands
stilled and he looked out the window toward the sea. "I'm gonna take it."
"What-the Fount?" Crumbs fell from Gregory's open mouth.
"Yes," he turned and regarded Gregory and me. "The Keep
of the Four Worlds will be mine."
My thoughts raced around my head. Magni would undoubtedly
be just as opposed to my using the Fount as Gabriel was, assuming I told him
my plans. However, if he were to gain control perhaps I could come for a visit.
"Alone?" Gregory asked Magni.
"My massive army is even now marching toward the place.
I'm gonna trump in and open the gates for them."
An attacking army would be an excellent diversion. Plus,
there was bound to be some Amber blood spilt-just what I needed to open the
Door.
"Want some company?" I smiled shyly.
"I'm game," Gregory said. "I got nothing to lose."
Magni studied us for a moment.
"Sure," he said. "What the hell." He resumed hunting through
his deck.
I turned and gazed out the window. The setting sun was
filtered through a light cloud cover, washing the sky in glorious purples,
oranges and reds. I pushed the window open. Distant cries of gulls carried
through on the salty breeze. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. For a moment,
I was back on the low seas, sailing through Shadow with Caine. Life was simple
again.
"Aha!" Magni shouted triumphantly. I pivoted and saw him
holding up a card. "Ready?"
I helped Gregory to his feet and we gathered around Magni
as he concentrated on the card. I felt and saw it begin to glow. Gregory and
I grabbed hold of Magni's shirt as he stepped into the shimmering air. The
castle faded around us.
We fell into a large room, plummeting a few feet to the
cold stone floor. I started Grayswandir charging up. Immediately I was aware
of the immense column of white-hot energy off to my left. The Fount of Power
was active. We were in the Keep of Four Worlds. It begins, I thought.
I rolled to my feet and continued to draw energy in through
my spikard. Magni stood and fired off a pistol.
"Ha!" He shouted. "It works!"
Gregory lay where he had landed. He was still covered in
blood, and he seemed to be struggling to get up. After a moment he began crawling
toward the nearest wall.
At that moment the far door burst open. A dozen men-at-arms
ran in and fell to Magni's bullets. I saw Gabriel's red hair through the crowd
of bodies and yelled a warning.
Magni fired several shots at Gabriel but they bounced off
his sorcerous wards and ricocheted into his guards.
"You couldn't have gotten in," Gabriel screamed at us.
"There's only one way in and I have that blocked."
"Apparently not!" I retorted.
Brand's son angrily waved his arms about and stomped his
foot. A ball of flame surged from his fingertips and flew straight at Magni
and me. I ignored it and concentrated on the increasingly difficult task of
containing the gray power. Grayswandir writhed on my finger.
The fireball veered aside and soared toward the wall where
Gregory sat. The darkness from his eyes swelled and expanded and seemed to
draw the flames in. The fiery sphere was swallowed up without a sound-except
for the sounds of battle, Gabriel's cursing, and the roaring of the Fount.
Grayswandir shifted and became a sword, shining with brilliant
gray light. It contained more power than I had ever felt. Magni glanced at
me. I nodded at him and he unleashed the spell at Gabriel that would lower
his wards and render him helpless.
A flash of crimson light surrounded Brand's son. All of
the soldiers within twenty feet of him fell instantly to the floor. But my
redheaded cousin only fell to his knees and grimaced. He waved arcanely and
Gregory was shoved forcefully into the wall, his head knocking back against
the stone. Julian's son slumped to the floor unmoving.
It was a moment's thought to test Gabriel's wards. They
were weakened considerably, but the framework was fueled by the Fount and
remained intact. Seven Hells! I was holding too much energy. It felt like
my head would explode. If I threw it against Gabriel it would be wasted. Finn
will be disappointed in me, I thought. If he is still alive after this.
I pivoted and thrust Grayswandir into Magni's ribs. He
turned and his eyes met mine. I thought I saw acceptance there, if only for
a moment, before he shattered in a red explosion. His blood burst forth and
sizzled in the air.
A tremendous boom resounded off the stone walls, punishing
my ears at the same time that a brilliant white flash lit up the tableau.
Suddenly, her naked body sheathed in electric fire, she was there: the Tower.
She smiled broadly and curled her neck like a cat in a sunbeam.
The Tower was beautiful, well-defined muscles clutching
strange weapons in all eight of her hands. Had I opened the Door? I couldn't
tell. How do you know when you're in a different multiverse? Everything looked
the same to me, just like it had the last time.
Then the Tower looked at me and my fears melted away. A
burning needle pierced my left eye and filled it with blood. The world turned
scarlet before me. Everything slowed down. The Tower's mouth opened and I
moved toward her. It felt like I was swimming in a raging river of air, and
all the currents carried me forward into my goddess' embrace.
Her arms curled around me and squeezed me tight. I felt
secure, immortal, and overwhelmed by love and sex. I hardly noticed as her
blades cut into my skin, deeper and deeper. My lips touched hers and her kiss
was searing electricity that burned into my mouth, my throat, my lungs. Time
slowed even further. My blood began to boil. I saw an ice-white flash that
seemed to emanate from within me. Everything faded to crimson, then utter
blackness.
* * *
They say that at the moment
you die your whole life flashes before your eyes.
They're wrong. But they almost got it right.
I see a white star, brighter than the nebulous whiteness
that surrounds me. It is far away but constantly growing closer. There is
no floor or ceiling, no earth or sky, but I feel like I'm in motion. I'm going
somewhere. There's no hurry; time has become all but meaningless to me.
I guess I must be dead, but isn't death supposed to provide
answers? All I have are more questions, and plenty of time to mull them over
in my mind.
I remember every moment, beginning with that late night
when I first set foot in Amber. I've gone over it in agonizing detail, as
if my thoughts were being recorded somewhere. What should I have done differently?
I wish I had gotten to know Random better. I wish I had talked to Caine, just
once, about who he really was.
I wish I could have explained everything to my mother.
She never understood the choices I made. I feel sad about how things turned
out between us, the last time we spoke.
But I don't regret my role in the grand transformation.
The Cycle was destined to turn. I did my part to open the Door. I hope that
the Tower is reveling in her new creation, a goddess unleashed. I only wish
I could have lived to see it.
Mother was right about one thing: I embraced the new universe.
Things change. You either change with them, or you get left behind.
Caine didn't say that; I did.
* * *
The End.
<previous Aedan's Journal.
Quotes
from 12/15/01 session...
Chronicle
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