WTWB Aedan's Journal 4-14-01

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Winds That Will Be — Aedan's Journal

"Just to Be Clear: That's a Threat"

Aedan's Journal. Session 4-14-01.

    Who knew Magni could sing? He truly was a Jack of all trades, master of none. By that I mean that he didn't sing very well. He wasn't terrible, but his vocal range was limited and the song's wasn't.
    But I had to give the guy some credit. It looked like it was working. Rowena couldn't keep her eyes off of him. He convinced her to take the stage at one point. I was astonished to hear her sing. That woman had a set of pipes. She hit the high notes with strength and confidence, and rode the low notes like she was born there. I wanted to hear more and I wasn't the only one. The crowd cheered for her until she agreed to keep singing. Magni accompanied her on his violin.
    It got the party really jumping. Martin was enjoying himself, bouncing around in a sea of overdressed dancing nobility. Gregory was there, although he wasn't dancing in his armor. At least, I wouldn't call it dancing. Sure, I was overly cautious after what happened at the funeral, but lately Gregory had become paranoid. He needed to loosen up. It was a celebration.
    About three hundred people shifted and shuffled around the floor to the music. Bleys was cutting it up. Gabriel was a wild man and had attracted a little following among the younger women. I threw a few moves in the general direction of the exotic and dusky Comtessa del Invirria.
    "Call me Giacinta," she whispered in my ear. Her breath was warm. My ear was appreciating the attention when it was rudely offended by a very frustrating noise.
    A loud, insistently ringing bell will spoil the mood of any party.
    The music stopped. Everyone stopped dancing and looked at each other as if any of us knew what was going on. They started to panic, but Martin stood on something and shouted for calm. Gabriel calmed his clique and circulated through the crowd coolly.
    Now Gregory's insistence on wearing his armor all evening didn't seem so foolish. He bolted from the room. Magni wasn't far behind him. The alarm was ringing in the code for an invasion. This can't be good, I thought.
    That's when I saw Bleys sneaking out a side door. I slipped through the crowd and followed him. I held my gun against the small of my back as I ran, not wanting it to slide around. He ran up the back stairs and onto the third floor. I slowed down and uttered the word that made me dark, spooky, and blend into the shadows.
    I listened at the door on the landing and didn't hear anything. Where was Bleys? Carefully I opened the door.
    An intense redheaded face confronted me.
    Know when to seize the initiative, Caine had said. I was shocked by Bleys' appearance, but determined to not let him intimidate me. "What's going on?" I asked him in my best military manner.
    "I'm about to find out," Bleys said. He turned and sprinted down the hallway. Seven Hells, I thought, and ran after him.
    We were in the family work area of the castle. One of the rooms further down had an excellent grand piano in it, but I had never opened the door at which Bleys stopped. He placed his open palm against the wall next to the door. Red sparks outlined his fingers. He removed his hand and thrust his shoulder against the door. It creaked and opened.
    The room was dark. I summoned a light wisp and saw what was obviously a sorcerer's workshop. High narrow windows let moonlight in. A long table encircled the room. Shapes under cloth covers told me that every magic device I had ever heard of were probably waiting right here. There were cabinets and drawers everywhere. Shelves of books obscured the walls. Piles of papers covered with sketches littered the counter tops. In the middle of the floor were five sconces for candles set equidistant from each other. That was where the circle would be drawn.
    Bleys ran to a side table and pulled the cover off a silver bowl. It was large and planished, with the silver looking about a quarter of an inch thick. He yanked open a cupboard and pulled out a tripod. He set the bowl on the tripod and looked around frantically.
    "Give me that oil," he told me. I grabbed an oil decanter and passed it to him. He spilled some into the bowl and wiped the dust off with a rag.
    "Hand," Bleys said.
    I held out my hand. That was a mistake.
    He grabbed my wrist with one hand, and with a small blade in his other hand he slit my thumb. He tugged my wound over the bowl so three drops of my blood spilled into it.
    He let me go. I bandaged my wound with a strip of cloth and watched my blood begin to spin around the bottom of the bowl. It spiraled up along the rough grooves. Each drop chased the others until they reached the lip and vanished.
    Across the top plane of the silver bowl the air shimmered and I could see Castle Amber as if I were flying over it at night. Servants were scurrying around at more than twice their usual speed. Guards were mobilizing as well. Bleys did something and the view widened. A pale blue circle glowed around part of the castle about where I figured the Pattern would be. I realized that this thing didn't just see as the naked eye did; it saw powers as well. Cool, I thought.
    Bleys moved the view further south and west until it was outside the castle proper. Guards were running down the path, taking defensive positions behind barricades. Near the barracks, a shifting rainbow sphere caught my eye. The bowl magnified it until I could see Raj standing beside it. On the ground next to him was a large man in full plate armor holding an entirely too familiar sword. It was Searlas.
    "I'm guessing a Trump gate," Bleys said. The image of the multicolored bubble grew. "It looks unstable."
    Raj and Searlas left the picture, walking back toward the castle.
    "Can we close it from here?" I asked, thinking that an invading force arriving literally in our back yard was a very bad thing.
    "I'm more tempted to stabilize it than to shut it down." He did something then, and the swirling colors froze. The image pulled back and trailed Raj's and Searlas's movements through the castle. They met Magni and Gregory and the four of them proceeded to the Library.
    "Do you need any more help here?" After all, I still had plenty of blood.
    "Nah."
    I walked down to the Library. Old Lynn told me that everyone was sequestered in one of the study rooms. There were a couple dozen guards standing at strategic places making the staff nervous. I told Lynn that it might be best if they had a staff meeting in the City right now. I gave him a dozen gold crowns.
    "I recommend the Cat and Monkey," I told him, "and don't clap. Snap your fingers instead."
    He looked at me strangely, but I was used to that from people. As I walked to the study room Lynn gathered up the staff and left.
    Gerard was standing guard outside the door. He clenched and unclenched his fists while he paced back and forth. At that moment I remembered that Searlas was his son. He had been given to Osric as a hostage or something, in exchange for the sword. Gerard saw me arrive and stepped aside.
    I opened the door. They were all seated at the table. Searlas had removed his helm, gauntlets, and greaves. He held the sword unsheathed across his knees. Gregory sat next to him, his body tensed to attack.
    "We're seeking to determine if Osric can live here," Searlas said.
    "With seven thousand heavy cavalry?" Gregory looked like he was going to strangle Searlas at any moment. I noticed that Searlas hadn't removed his gorget.
    "Osric was unsure how he would be received."
    "By threatening Amber," Gregory said, "he pretty much ensures that his welcome won't be a warm one."
    "Osric does not pose a threat."
    "A hostile army is not a threat?" Gregory rose from his seat. Magni laid a cautious hand on his pauldron.
    "That isn't a threat."
    "What?"
    "Actually, a threat is," Searlas stood suddenly. Gregory ducked and threw the table in front of himself. Searlas's sword whipped around until it was pointing over the edge of the table at Julian's son. "…that. Just to be clear: that's a threat."
    Magni stood and moved back along the far wall, his rifle held at the ready. I pulled out my gun and entered the room slowly, circling until I was behind Searlas. Giselle came in behind me.
    Raj was the only one still sitting down. He asked Searlas a few questions about Osric's intentions.
    "All he wants," Searlas said, "is to see if he can live in Amber."
    That didn't seem very likely, given the way he went about getting an invitation. Raj asked Searlas a few more questions, but all I heard were evasive answers.
    "We haven't heard what Searlas wants," Giselle said.
    "I need someplace to keep Osric safe and quiet."
    "Aedan," Gregory said angrily, "get a shovel."
    Searlas looked at him for several moments, then retracted his sword. Raj stood and pulled the table back down until it was in its usual, table-like position.
    "This seems an odd way to go about one's retirement," Raj said.
    "He's not well versed in peaceful means," Searlas answered.
    Gerard stepped through the door. "It's my problem," my uncle said hoarsely. He insisted that he speak with Osric. Magni tried to convince him that he should accompany him. It sounded like a good idea to me. Osric had seemed to like Magni. Of course, the old guy had hated me, which proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that the man truly was insane. But I digress.
    After a few minutes of arguing, Gerard left. Magni and Gregory went along with him to speak with Osric. Giselle went into the back of the room, took out a trump, and vanished.
    "Why not ask for our assistance instead of forcing a confrontation?" Raj made a good point. For a big, strong guy, he wasn't too dumb. Searlas wasn't nearly as articulate, but he was unrelenting.
    "As I said, Osric isn't familiar with niceties."
    "Your part in this is not insubstantial," I decided to try a different approach. Raj looked at me and nodded slightly.
    "I don't often agree with Osric, but he does have my loyalty."
    "Does he deserve your loyalty?"
    "Yes," Searlas said.
    "Based on what?" I asked.
    "He is my father." I was glad Gerard wasn't around to hear that. I looked back at Raj.
    "We might have to place you under house arrest," Raj told Searlas.
    "Just try and keep me here."
    "Is he under house arrest?" I asked.
    "Yes," Raj said.
    I raised my gun and pointed it at Searlas' head. A bullet through the eye would probably slow him down a bit. Embrace death, Caine said. Use her to control others. Well, I was holding death's hand right now, but Searlas had the next dance.
    "I had better go speak to Osric," Searlas told Raj.
    "I think you should stay," Raj said politely.
    "Osric fears the curse."
    "What curse?" I asked.
    "The curse that prevents him from coming to Amber."
    I didn't consider that a curse. From my point of view, it was more of a blessing.
    I heard the shuffle of feet outside. The door opened and two of the Royal Guard came in. They looked around as two more entered. Martin stepped into the room, still in his dove gray robes with the heavy chain of office around his neck.
    I bowed but kept my eyes and gun on Searlas. He didn't bow.
    "I think you should explain what you told us to King Martin," Raj told Searlas.
    "Which part?"
    My finger tightened on the trigger. I would have shot him, but he was wearing plate mail. One wrong bounce and my bullet could end up inside our new king. I didn't think I could talk my way out of that one, so I didn't shoot.
    But I wanted to. Searlas was close enough to death to smell the embalming fluid.
    Martin spoke with Searlas for some time. He got the same evasive answers I had already heard. However, one fact that Searlas let slip was that Osric was hoping the Trump gate would allow "leakage" between the two places. Somehow, this was supposed to change things so Osric could survive in Amber.
    I studied Searlas's armor, the angle of his sword, the way he held himself, planning my attack. I would move in suddenly, threatening him with the pistol, then surprise him with my sword. He would have superior range, but I was quick. If I got in close enough, I could take him down. It wouldn't be over immediately, but he was more hampered by the close quarters than I was.
    My thoughts were interrupted by a trump call. At least, I thought it was a trump call. After a second I realized it was more like the spell Dara had used to speak with me in the Courts. I moved as far away from the conversation as I could and let the spell take effect.
    "It worked!" I heard Gwydion's voice in my head.
    He was excited that he was able to contact me. His sorcery was more inclined to research and inanimate objects than to people, but I wasn't that surprised. For an old guy, he was pretty resourceful.
    He told me that he had contacted me because the environment of Amber had suddenly changed recently. I knew what that meant, even if he didn't. I said goodbye to Gwydion and returned my attention to the negotiations. Giselle had returned, and she had brought wine. She handed a glass to Searlas. I hoped she had the common sense to have drugged it. Searlas sipped a bit. He and Raj were sitting across the table from one another. Martin and his guards stood behind Raj.
    I was behind Searlas again, my gun still pointing at him.
    "If we remove the curse, as you call it, would it persuade Osric to appear without seven thousand of his close, personal friends?" I asked.
    Searlas laughed. He wasn't too stodgy. Too bad he was probably going to die.
    "I would have to ask him," Searlas said, "but how do I know that that's even possible?"
    "I believe we could alter the environment of Amber so that Osric could live here. However, that would have to be part of the negotiations." I deferred to Martin.
    Martin ignored my offer. He insisted that he had no quarrel with Osric. "Whatever charge Oberon leveled against Osric has been forgotten. It is pre-history to me. A place can be made for him in Amber, but we cannot allow any threat to stand against us."
    "I need to speak with Osric," Searlas said.
    "Bleys," Martin spoke to the air. "Can we seal this gate?"
    I didn't hear Bleys's answer, but I already knew what it was.
    It was agreed that Raj would accompany Searlas to speak with Osric. The two men left together. I put my gun away. When they were gone, Giselle flounced up to me.
    "What are you doing?" She slapped my chest. "You can't disrespect our king in front of an enemy!"
    "I meant no disrespect," I started, then stopped. Martin walked over to me. His face was red.
    "I'm upset with you, Aedan."
    "I apologize, Your Majesty. I merely wanted to give you another option." I knelt and bowed my head. It seemed like the right thing to do.
    Martin breathed angrily. He wanted to say more, to yell at me. I knew he did. I waited for it.
    "This situation is ended," he said. He left the room. His guards hurried to accompany him. Giselle made a flustered noise in my face and stormed out.
    Now I really wanted to shoot Searlas.

* * *

    Caine had captured the woman we wanted. She was tied up in a most uncomfortable fashion, stretched across her kitchen table. Her left arm was obviously broken, and from the angle it was in her shoulder was probably separated as well. Caine poked her shoulder blade with the tip of his dagger.
    She screamed.
    "See?" Caine said altogether too nicely. "You do have a choice. Pain is your alternative."
    "Never," she rasped and tried to spit at him. He sidestepped and tugged on the rope. She writhed in agony and cursed us.
    I hated her. This woman had tortured and killed nearly a hundred children for her own evil ends. But watching Caine torment her made my stomach churn. Yes, we needed to know where the surviving children were, but there were other ways we could have gotten that information.
    A few cigar burns and a gallon of blood later, she confessed. At Caine's nod I went into her mind and verified the location. He killed her quickly after that.
    "Why didn't you let me use that spell earlier?" I asked him. "Torturing her was unnecessary."
    "Was it?" Caine washed his hands in her kitchen sink. "Some people deserve to die, Aedan. Some people deserve worse."
    In the years that followed, I came to agree with him.

* * *

    Perhaps Searlas didn't deserve to die, but I would gladly help dig Osric's grave. He had tried to bring an army against Amber. Searlas was loyal to him, but it was misplaced loyalty. I hoped that one day he could be convinced of that. It would be nice if it happened before the castle was overrun by Unseelie cavalry.
    I returned to the workshop. By the number of royal guards stationed about, I could tell that Martin was there even before I went in. Both men turned to regard me as I went to stand beside them.
    "Aedan," Martin said, "we need you to speak with Gerard. Bleys will open the gate enough to call him. Do you have a Trump?"
    I did. I used it. Gerard was sitting in a circle with several of Osric's men. I couldn't see Searlas or Osric anywhere.
    Gerard asked me to wait. He told the men that he needed to speak with Osric. They refused. Gerard looked like he wanted to snap their necks. I didn't blame him. They were as obstinate as Searlas. Maybe it was the nature of growing up in that particular Shadow. After a moment, Gerard walked off angrily.
    "What is it, Aedan?" He pouted at me. "I'm in the middle of the negotiations."
    "The King would like to speak with you in person."
    "Might as well. I'm not getting anywhere anyway."
    I extended my hand and pulled him through. He stepped into the room and turned to Martin expectantly.
    Martin, Bleys and Gabriel were concentrating on something, both of them hunched over the silver bowl. Gerard saw this and stomped off. The royal guard moved to get out of his way.
    I didn't. He shoved me aside and left the room in a hurry.
    I caught up to him before he got to the stairs.
    "Gerard! The King wishes to speak with you."
    "No he doesn't. He never listens anyway."
    "I know," I said. "I know, but he does want to talk with you. He's just interested in what Bleys is doing, and he probably got distracted by the device."
    "What device?"
    I told him about the bowl showing an overview of the entire castle.
    "Fiona's thing," he said disparagingly. "I need to check on the Trump gate."
    "It is pretty cool," I smiled. "You can check out the Trump gate from here."
    "Really?" He groused.
    "Really. Let me show you."
    He reluctantly let me lead him back into the room. I showed him the device and told him what little I knew about it. He agreed that it could be very useful for the castle guard to have access to it.
    Finally, Martin spoke with him. The negotiations, such as they were, never really took place. Osric refused to even meet with us.
    Across the room, Bleys told Gabriel and I how to use the viewing bowl. I looked around the castle and then let Gabriel try it. Raj arrived and left with Gerard. Bleys had sealed the gate, but that wasn't enough for Gabriel. He wanted to set up wards around the entire castle grounds, so that if another Trump gate opened up an alarm would sound. Bleys didn't seem too eager to assist him.
    I wandered around the room, peeking in cupboards and under covering cloths. It was mostly stuff I had seen before: alembics, balances, mirrors of all sizes, jars of powdered silver, spices, and weird devices whose function I couldn't discern at a glance. In a drawer I found a box that caught my eye. It was made of a strange, dull green metal and had an elaborate clasp.
    "What's this?" I asked Bleys.
    "I don't know. You could open it and find out."
    "Okay."
    I held the box in one hand and opened it with the other. I just had time to register the look of surprise on Gabriel's face and the fact that Bleys was shielding his face and turning away as the energy burst forth and enveloped me.

* * *

    The bright light faded and I found myself alone in a wheat field that stretched to all of the distant horizons. I took out Gabriel's trump: no response. Deirdre's trump: no response. Everybody else's trump: no response.
    Off in the far distance, dark clouds gathered over the horizon. I started jogging in the other direction. Over an hour later I stopped and assessed the situation.
    The landscape looked unchanged. Except for my path through the wheat, I couldn't tell that I had moved.
    I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the inside of my sleeve. That was a mistake. When I rubbed against my wrist, it stung. No, it itched in a really bad way. I looked at my wrist and saw a couple dozen small red bumps, like insect bites.
    My neck itched too, and my other wrist and hand, and my stomach above my beltline. I looked. I had red bumps everywhere. I bent over and examined a wheat stalk. Hidden in the kernels were miniscule red six-legged insects.
    I ran. I ran for another hour before I felt the tinglings of a trump call. I stopped and answered.
    It was Gabriel.
    "Aedan, where d—"
    "Pull me through," I gasped. "Pleasepleaseplease!"
    He did. He was still in Fiona's workshop, standing in exactly the same place he had been when I had opened the box. Bleys was nearby.
    I tore off my clothes, all of them. I had lines of red bumps across my stomach, around both of my wrists and leading up my arms, around my neck and down my chest. Curiously enough, the white scar on my sternum was free of bites. They all itched terribly, every last one of them.
    "What are you doing?" Gabriel was shocked.
    "Getting out of those clothes," I nodded at the pile on the floor. "Thank you for calling me. I was stuck in a very bad place."
    "I'm such a nice guy," Gabriel had both of his hands up and was backing away from me slowly. "Will you put that down?"
    What? Oh, I was holding my pistol, having removed it from my belt while getting undressed. I set it on the counter in front of me. "Sorry."
    Bleys walked over and eyed my naked, pale, scrawny body. "Mmm," he shook his head sympathetically. "Chiggers."
    "Tiny bug, six legs?" I asked.
    "Yeah."
    "There are probably a bunch in my clothes there."
    Gabriel stepped even further away.
    "Well, I've got to be going," I said, and walked toward the door.
    "Uh…" Gabriel said nervously.
    "Here," Bleys handed me his cloak. I draped it around my shoulders. Black, lined with red silk, it hung to about mid-thigh. I was comfortable without it, but I thanked him and went out the door. I stopped just outside the doorway and turned around. "What was in the box?" I said.
    Gabriel had walked to the door. He stepped outside and shut it behind him. "Oh…nothing much. Just a dull gray ring."
    "Did you put it back?"
    "Yes," he said smugly, "but I know where it is."
    "So does Bleys." Gabriel's mouth fell open. I left him standing there.

* * *

    I was born naked. I used to run around the castle naked. Some of my earliest memories are of the steam house over the thermal vent. Everyone got naked when they went steaming. I had seen nearly everyone I knew naked by the time I was six years old.
    So having a cloak that barely covered my ass was no big deal to me. When I encountered Flora and Giselle on the landing, I stopped and said hello. Flora smiled politely and pretended not to notice. Giselle burst out laughing. I leaned casually against the banister and didn't scratch myself.
    "It's a pleasure to see you both," I bowed and smiled my best courtier smile, "as you can probably tell."
    "Why are you naked," Giselle said between giggles, "except for Bleys's cloak?"
    "I was bored with my old clothes." I flung my hand away dismissively. "Is the party still going on? Would you like to dance?" I gave them a twirl. Wind swirled around me in places usually shielded from that sort of thing.
    "Yes the party is still going on," Giselle had another fit of laughter. "Oh, I've got to go, Aedan. Your pulchritude is just too much for me." Giselle walked up the stairs. I heard echoes of her laughter.
    "Come on," Flora took my arm. She led me to her rooms. I seated myself on a baroque chair and arranged the cloak as best I could. Flora dug in a cabinet while I looked around. "Ornate" was the word people had used to describe Flora's decorating style. I would have chosen "overdone," but people have told me my tastes are simplistic. At least it was somewhat distracting from the burning red bumps.
    My aunt pulled up a chair next to me and sat down. In one hand she had an open jar that smelled strongly of lavender. She dipped her other hand into the jar and began rubbing cream on my neck. It stung at first, but after a few seconds the itching all but vanished. As she applied the lotion to me, we talked.
    "Do you still want to examine my sorcery?" I asked her, eyes closed, basking in the feeling of not itching.
    "Yes."
    "When we have time, I would be happy to show you." I let her soothe my wrists and stomach. Sure, the cloak fell open, but she didn't comment on it and neither did I.
    "I saw it in action when we revived Finnvarra and Deirdre," she said, "but I didn't get a chance to really study it."
    "How is Finnvarra?"
    "I gather he hasn't recovered. The wound in his neck was essentially fatal, but they're trying everything they can." She wiped the last of the lotion on my belly and wiped her hands on a cloth. She closed up the jar.
    "That should help," she said. "I hope you don't mind the smell."
    "I don't mind at all. Thank you very, very much."
    Flora tilted her head and studied me.
    "What are you, a fourteen?"
    She was looking at my neck.
    "Fourteen and a half."
    "Just a moment."
    My aunt opened a door and vanished for a few minutes. When she returned, she had a complete set of clothing for me. I stepped into the underwear.
    "Excuse me," Flora said. "I have a couple things to attend to. See yourself out when you're dressed." She left.
    There was a knock at the door. Should I answer? I thought. Whoever it was knocked again, louder this time. I was alone in Flora's rooms. I answered it, dressed only in my shorts.
    Giselle stood on the threshold.
    "Are you still here? Where's mother?" Giselle looked at my body and visibly refrained from making a smart-assed remark or two.
    "She had some errands to run. Do you have a moment?" I stepped back and invited her in. She entered the room and sat down. I stood next to her and picked up the forest green pants Flora had found for me.
    "The environment of Amber changed instantly when the Trump gate formed," I told her. "At least, according to the Alchemist it did. Do you know anything about that?"
    "No," she admitted. "You clearly know more than I do. I wonder how it corresponds with the Chaos changes.… I'd be very interested to know what you find out about this whole phenomenon, Aedan. It's important, somehow, I can feel it. Unfortunately, I don't see much way to help you with it or I would volunteer. I was working on something for Martin, you see, and it just can't wait past this Benedict investigation or I'll be hunting a cold trail."
    "Okay, I'll let Gwydion work on it some more." I put one leg in the pants, but it didn't work like it was supposed to. Giselle stifled a giggle. "Merlin is your friend, right?"
She nodded.
"Do you know anything about his having walked Corwin's Pattern?"
    "Sort of," she made a puzzled face and pushed her blond hair away from her eyes. "Merlin was seen to appear in the middle of Corwin's Pattern."
    "Oh? Who saw this?"
    "I saw him myself," she said. Fey grammar, I thought disparagingly.
    "Wait, wait, wait." I pulled my foot out of the pant leg and turned the pants around. It didn't go in the other pant leg either. "Maybe we're talking about two different occasions."
    "I don't understand your confusion. Corwin and Merlin walk that Pattern and disappear, and later Merlin reappears. It sounds like a perfectly reasonable series of events to me."
    When she put it that way, it made sense. I tugged the pants off and threw them to the ground. I picked up the shirt. It fit well, although it was a bit short in the sleeves.
    "Have you been to the Courts recently?" I asked, knowing full well that she had.
    "Yes."
    "Are they mad at me? I wasn't trying to attack Merlin. I mean, it was an honest mistake. I just wanted to pay Amber's respects to the new King and the crowd wouldn't let me through."
    "I don't know if they're mad or not, honestly. Mandor just mentioned your…exit…in passing." Giselle took the pants and turned them rightside out. She set them down on the chair next to me.
    "Mandor!" I snapped my fingers. "I left a bracelet in his library. Do you think you could get it for me? Or, better yet, would he allow me to retrieve it? I kind of liked the Courts—spooky and weird, but fun. I hope they find Dara soon. I don't know why, but I don't believe she's dead. She was nice to me when she didn't need to be. It would be a shame if she weren't around to enjoy her son's reign." I put on the pants. It was easy.
    "I think that Mandor would be delighted to see you again, though he's rather busy at this instant, I believe. I had to leave in the middle of things." She smiled a little to herself. "Spooky and weird, but fun... yes, I'd say that described the Courts perfectly."
    I nodded.
    "I'm afraid I never got to meet Lady Dara," Giselle went on, looking suddenly troubled, "but I know that her son is under some pressure where Corwin is concerned. Fortunately, I understand that the evidence is not what one could call air-tight."
    "And Corwin isn't speaking about it, at least not to me." I shrugged. "If you have the opportunity to return and would care for some company, I would love to tag along."
    "Certainly. If I am someplace where I can have some company, I will gladly trump you."
I looked around. "Our hostess seems to have disappeared. I know she's your mother, but I feel a bit awkward sitting here in her rooms without her present. Would you like to walk in the Garden? If the sky is still clear, we can see the stars." I remembered the layered, cloudy sky of Gealorea. "We don't have stars back home, not most nights."
    "No stars..." Giselle's eyes turned suddenly sad. "How awful for a child, to look up in the night and see only darkness." She shook off the mood. "I would like to go for a walk, but could I have a rain check? It's more than twenty-four hours since I've had any sleep, and I should get some if I want to be worth anything in the morning. You could walk me down to my room, though, if you'd like." Giselle rose in preparation for leaving.
    I pulled on the white shirt and offered my cousin my arm. She took it and looked a question at the shoes Flora had left for me.
    "I always went barefoot back home," I explained. She opened her mouth, but didn't say anything. She closed her mouth with a smile. Knowing Giselle, she was thinking mischievous thoughts.
    We walked slowly in silence to her door. She was obviously very tired, but I had one more question to ask her.
    "Cousin," I said. "You seem to know him rather well, so I will ask. Do I resemble Ailill? I have no evidence that he is my father, only a guess. My mother is rather reticent on this subject."
    Giselle tipped her head to one side, her eyes softening a little wistfully. "You're both tall, both on the thinner side, and you both have dark hair; but I could say that of Ailill and Benedict, or of Ailill and Julian. I'm sorry, Aedan, but no, I don't see any great resemblance between you. It does not mean that he isn't your father, simply that I would not have guessed it if you were." There were tears in her eyes as she went on, and her voice shook. "Who sired you doesn't matter, Aedan. That is a transient fame. Who you make yourself into is the only thing that counts in the end." One tear ran down her cheek.
    "Good night, cousin." She fled into her room, closing the door hastily behind her.
    I was shocked. When she had taken me through Ailill's realms, I got the impression that they were close friends. It was clear to me now that they had been more than just friends.
    I took that walk in the western garden under the clear night sky. The moon watched over me. It would be full in a week's time. How much had changed since that night in Tir? Everything, I thought, and it will undoubtedly continue to change.
    I thought about it and decided that I had changed, too. The past seven months in Amber had been interesting. The past three weeks had been intense. I used to believe that ten years with Caine had prepared me for anything.
    I was wrong.
    I wasn't prepared for Random's death, or the appearance of that monster on the Pattern. I still didn't know exactly what had happened in the Abyss, what that Seraph had meant when it told me I must choose. It wasn't possible for me to be truly prepared for the return of my mother. I didn't know how to deal with her at all. She was more human than I remembered. I had idolized her. I knew that even without Caine pointing it out every chance he got. Samineh and the staff had practically worshipped the Lady Deira. I had too.
    I plucked a violet. It was beautiful in the moonlight. I pulled the petals off one by one as I let go of my childhood. I was determined to know Deirdre as she was, not as I wanted her to be. It was time to grow up.
    A cloud passed in front of the moon. I let the exposed violet fall to the ground and went inside to bed.

* * *

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