Winds That Will Be — Aedan's Journal
"The
Pierced Heart on the Altar Pulsed. The Woman Grimaced"
Aedan's Journal. Session 5-5-01.
© 2001 Todd Worrell
I awoke slowly and just let the light filter in and dance on my half-closed eyelids. A breeze wafting in through the open window carried the sounds of people shuffling in the courtyard below and the scent of salt air. The castle was beginning to wake up.
I love the smell of the ocean in the morning. Before I'm completely awake, I often think I'm still sailing around the multiverse on the Valiant. In those few moments before I was supposed to be on deck, I reveled in my freedom. I was a grown man, sailing the seas of life. I could do anything I wanted.
Well, anything I wanted as long as it matched with what Caine wanted me to do.
On this morning I stayed in bed for around twenty minutes. Morren knew better than to enter my bedchamber without good reason. I heard him puttering about the other rooms, trying to be quiet.
Martin, son of Random, was King of Amber. That took a few minutes to soak in. It was weird to think of him as being in charge now, even though he had been running things since he arrived. I guess I still thought of him as Random had described him. He had told me his son was "pretty wild," and said that we would probably get along well together. Instead, Martin was in a constant state of near-panic as he tried to learn all there was to know about the kingdom, and deal with the massive amounts of shit that came with the job.
Maybe he and I would get along one day, after he got comfortable with being king. We could spend a few days in Texorami, playing at the clubs. From what I had seen of the place with Caine, it was a jazz and blues kind of city. I would take the flute but expect to be pounding the keys on a piano for most of the time. That was okay. I could tickle the damn ivories better than most of the pianists I had played with anyway.
But that day would have to wait. Today Martin was going to be anointed by the Church of the Unicorn. I told myself I should double-check the security arrangements before the ceremony. Raj didn't seem to take his responsibilities too seriously. His failure to do a comprehensive search of the Chapel had resulted in a catastrophe. It would have turned into a public relations nightmare too if Gabriel hadn't shielded the public from the dying unicorn with a wall of light.
I had to admit that Brand's son did occasionally come through when we needed him. He was immature, foolish, and liable to get himself killed, but then, so was I. That was a disturbing thought. Maybe that was why we got along so well and argued so much. I would have to think about that some more.
I reluctantly dragged myself out of bed, washed, shaved, dressed, and trudged down to put in an appearance at the breakfast nook. Magni was there. He had on a different bathrobe this morning. It had a hood that somewhat hid the iron collar around his neck.
Magni was eager to discuss the failed invasion attempt by Searlas and Osric. We agreed that something needed to be done. I gave him my trump of Osric so he could copy it. He said that he was working on a trump of Searlas but it wasn't finished yet.
"It would be kind of a waste to finish it," Magni said, "seeing as how we're probably just going to use it to kill him."
"I don't think Searlas is the problem," I said. "I think his loyalty is simply misplaced. Osric is the problem."
"Yeah," Magni agreed. "Actually, I like Searlas. When he and I spent some time together, we got along well. I just wish he didn't have his head up Osric's ass so he could see the big picture better."
The Big Picture. We needed to shore up our defenses before we could deal with all of the universe's problems: strife over the Fey kingship; re-establishing relations with the Courts of Chaos; finding Grayswandir, if it was truly lost and not transformed by Bleys into armor; Brand stoking the fires at the Keep of the Four Worlds; Benedict's suicide and the ramifications that would ensue; and ten or twenty other things I didn't know about. Searlas's head up Osric's ass would have been a minor inconvenience if not for the seven thousand cavalry he could plop down in our back yard at a moment's notice.
On top of all that, we had a wild unicorn-beast thing running around. I was sure that Raj knew more about that than what he had told us, but that was true of most things Raj knew. In fact, Raj had been notoriously tight-lipped since the day I had met him.
But first, we needed to fix Osric once and for all.
Gregory arrived just in time to hear our proposal. We would allow Osric to live in Amber if he agreed to do so without his army or his sword. Our alternative plan was simply to kill him. Gregory was down with either plan.
I insisted we check with Martin first. He was the King, after all, and I figured he should be consulted ahead of time. Magni didn't want to check with Martin, but he reluctantly accompanied Gregory and I to the Royal Offices.
Martin wasn't there. Iseult tucked a stray gray hair behind her ear and informed us wearily that he had left for the Church already. Apparently he had to rehearse his part in the ceremony. Iseult put her head down on her desk and closed her eyes. I thanked her and we left.
Gregory said he would catch up with us later. He wanted to put his armor on again. I didn't mock his decision.
Magni and I got our horses and rode into town. The Church was crowded with people going from one part of the grounds to another. I glanced over the populace with a critical eye and was pleased to see more than a few castle guards positioned in strategic spots.
Inside the Church proper, we sliced through the masses milling about until we were stopped by a functionary armed with a desk.
"His Majesty is in a private meeting with His eminence and cannot be disturbed." The little man returned his snobby gaze to the paperwork in front of him.
"Take us there, please." I told him.
He ignored us for perhaps ten seconds before Magni leaned on the pile of papers.
"It's important," Magni smiled evilly at the bureaucrat. The man shrank back as far as he could in his chair. He led us to a doorway.
"Please wait here," he tried. "I'll inform His Majesty that you are out here."
"Go ahead," I said and we followed the man into the room. We stopped just inside the door. Martin was sitting in the center of a large, comfortable room with the High Priest. Even before the little man approached, Martin looked up and saw us. He stood and walked over to where we were standing.
"What is it?" He was obviously annoyed, although I wasn't sure if it was at us or at the High Priest.
"Your Majesty," I bowed. Magni hesitated, then bowed as well. "We have a proposal regarding Osric."
"What, do you think I haven't taken care of it already?"
"No, it's just—"
"Do you think that I would be here," he waved angrily behind him, "working on memorizing my fucking lines if I hadn't made arrangements already?"
"No, but we weren't aware of any arrangements, and—"
"Is it your job to make arrangements regarding the safety of Amber?"
"I—"
"No, it isn't. It's mine. I have had the shadow in which Osric and his army is located sealed off completely. As long as nobody tries to trump either Searlas or Osric, we won't have any more problems."
Well, that was somewhat reassuring, assuming that he had actually devised a way to keep Searlas from using the Trump sword to escape.
"I apologize, your Majesty. I was merely concerned for Amber's welfare. We hadn't been informed that anything was being done to prevent future attacks by Osric's army."
"I have taken care of it," Martin said with an air of finality.
I paused, uncertain whether I should ask, but one look at Magni made me decide. From the set of his jaw, I could tell that he intended to go after Osric unless strictly forbidden. I had to admit that it sounded good to me, too.
"Would you object to an attempt to slay Osric outright?"
I knew as soon as I started to speak that I should have kept my mouth shut. Martin's eyes grew wide in anger.
"Yes I would object! I just told you that I don't want anyone setting him free. I have taken care of it."
"Okay, I just wanted to be sure."
"Well, be sure." Martin pursed his lips and looked from me to Magni and back again. As usual, Magni hadn't said a word and had let me take all the heat. Martin seemed to realize it too.
"Don't worry, Aedan," he said, "I realize that this is his fault." He looked at Magni. Of course, it had been Magni's idea, but that didn't affect his wounded look.
"Now," Martin continued, "I trust we won't speak of this again."
"No, your Majesty."
"Good." Martin fixed us both with one final glare and returned to the High Priest. We left quickly.
"I've had enough of this," Magni said, angrily tightening his saddle. "I'm going to check out Osric's realm, see what's going on there."
"Martin told us not to contact Osric or Searlas," I said. "It would release them from the trap."
"I'm not going to see either of them. Martin didn't tell you that Osric and Searlas weren't in the walled city; they were someplace else. I want to see what's going on while Osric is gone."
Magni mounted Wixa and rode off at a hurried canter. People scurried to get out of his way.
I had a little over an hour before the ceremony was scheduled to begin. I checked with Flora's assistant about the schedule of events. Besides the High Priest, another priest was expected to speak. He was a friend of Martin's, Margreta told me, as if that were explanation enough. I patted her shoulder and decided to look into security matters myself.
The Royal Guardsmen were taking their job very seriously. They interrupted my poking around several times until Lieutenant Waltham and I discussed the details. Basically, he nodded his blond head to all of my questions and I was mostly satisfied.
But I still poked my nose into every nook and cranny. If some metaphysical being or assassin was hiding in the Church, I didn't believe it. Seven Hells, I even crawled under the old choir stand. Anything that intended to die, burst into flames, or surprise everyone would have to do it the hard way. I refused to allow it the luxury of being hidden inside the building.
The milling crowd milled less and sat more. Gerard, Bleys, Gregory, and Corwin were in attendance. I didn't see my mother. Flora hovered near the altar, going over the arrangements one final time with the functionaries involved. I sat next to Corwin. He nodded at me. I nodded back. Why was there a rule against speaking in church? We sat in relative silence for almost half an hour before the acolytes swinging incense burners walked slowly down the aisle and the whole thing began.
It was incredibly boring. A few priests besides the head guy spoke, quoting stuff from the Book of the Unicorn and obscure poets. Martin said his lines and Father Balin blotted holy oil on his forehead. After a few more suitably weighty sentences, Martin left. Everyone was allowed to empty out of the church.
I accompanied Corwin to the stables. Besides the saddle and tack, he belted on a couple saddlebags. He pulled a heavy riding cloak from the stable wall and rolled it into a bundle behind the saddle.
"Going for a ride?" I asked.
"Yes." Corwin didn't look at me. He seemed lost in his own thoughts.
"Would you care for some company?"
"Do as you wish."
I collected Trick and quickly saddled him. None of the stablehands at the church would touch the blue beast, which suited me just fine. I had to hurry to catch Corwin. His horse was trotting off North. Trick was eager to get out and go. We rode without speaking until we were well away from the city. Corwin turned off the main road and followed an old game trail for a while. Then we crossed a path I had never known existed. It looked well-used, but old.
We raced our horses for several minutes until Corwin reined up. I pulled alongside him. He looked at me, waiting for me to speak.
"Where are you going?"
"To find Grayswandir," he answered.
"I regret my part in your loaning your blade to Caine."
"It was my choice, not yours."
"Still, I feel somewhat responsible."
"You shouldn't," he said. "I make my own decisions."
Well, that was probably as close to absolution as I was going to get. Corwin was in a pensive mood, but he seemed willing to talk.
"I heard that you visited the Courts of Chaos recently," I said.
"Yes, but you already knew that."
Okay, so he was willing to talk, but not in the mood to dally.
"Giselle mentioned the disappearance of Lady Dara."
"If you're asking if I killed her, the answer is no." He stared straight ahead, shifting with the rhythm of his horse. "However, her absence should allow Merlin more freedom to rule, so I can't say that I am opposed to it."
"I don't know the extent of your feelings for her, and I'm not asking," I said, "but she was kind to me when I attended your son's coronation."
He asked about that then, and I told him the details.
"I only regret that I was unable to offer him my personal congratulations," I finished.
"Well, Merlin knows Martin," Corwin said. "If he wishes to speak with him he can." He looked at me sideways then. "Aedan, how long do you intend to ride with me? I may be gone several days."
"I don't know. I have no set plans. Why?"
"I thought you would want to spend more time with your mother right now. I know that if someone from my immediate family had returned after so long, I would want to."
"But you're her immediate family too," I told him to let him know that I hadn't missed the double meaning. Well, here goes nothing, I thought.
"Corwin, I don't know what happened between you and Deirdre. That is your business. However, even though she is my mother, I would not want that to ruin our relationship."
"What are you saying, Aedan?" He stopped his horse. I did likewise and we sat facing each other.
"You are still my uncle, my closest relative aside from my mother. I have enjoyed being your nephew and, I hope, your friend. I do not want that to stop."
"You will always be my nephew."
Something had changed in Corwin, or maybe it was just that I never knew him as well as I thought I had. Seven months ago, he had been a happy drunk. We had gotten along fabulously. Sure, I could tell that he was screwed up. Something had affected him drastically and pushed him into the dregs of a bottle. But he was fun to be with if he wasn't too far along. Then the Unicorn poked her horn into his head. He lost thirty pounds and became an upright citizen. When Corwin's job title changed from Family Drunk to Royal Advisor, he got boring and reserved.
He was reserved now. I stopped trying to draw him out and we rode on in silence.
Corwin got his horse up to a gallop and Trick followed. The landscape blurred past me and began changing quicker than I could discern. Corwin was using the Pattern at full strength. I extended my awareness to get a feel for how he was doing it, but he was shifting too quickly. I gave up looking for details and just let the images skate over my consciousness.
After almost two hours of hard riding, Corwin slowed to a canter. I looked around. Tall crystal spires stabbed into an orange and pink sky. Spiraling spider-like green clouds rolled from horizon to horizon. Black sand crunched under our horses' hooves. We rode further and the place became more of a normal desert. Night descended suddenly and we were moving through the near-total darkness.
I glanced worriedly over at Corwin, but I couldn't make out his features. Caine had warned me about shifting shadow in the dark. When you lose sight, you relinquish control, he had said. Shadows need light.
We rode another twenty minutes in the dark, our horses whickering nervously. The sky lightened somewhat, as if a full moon were peeking through the cloud cover. However, there was no moon, and I couldn't see any light source.
Off to our right a copse of bare trees looked spookily inviting. Corwin steered us past them. The sand below us started to show patches of silver in the blackness. Then it became white. Ripples snaked across its surface, but there was no wind.
The cloud cover started to break up, and a pale orange sun peered down on us from a couple inches above the left horizon. The sun was setting, spilling dark wine across the world. In ten minutes, the orb had sunk beneath the horizon. In the dusky half-light, I could see a distant glow. It shone directly ahead of us, as if it were our destination.
We slowed our horses to a trot, then a walk. From fifty feet away, I could see a humanlike figure in white robes, its face hidden by a cowl. It was half hidden by a white haze, but I could see the wings, the strange long shaft of some weapon.
"Hey Corwin," I said, pulling Trick to a halt, "did I ever tell you what I met in the Abyss?"
"Not that I recall." He stopped his horse and looked at me.
"It was the Angel of Death." I nodded to indicate the thing in front of us.
"You seek Grayswandir," a voice boomed out. It sounded everything and nothing like the warm whisper I remembered.
"What business is it of yours?" Corwin shrugged and replied in a conversational tone. The Seraph floated in the air, about a foot off the ground and ten feet high.
"You have a connection with the blade." The voice didn't quite phrase it like a question.
"Yeah" Corwin answered.
"Then," the Seraph said, "I will help you."
I felt its gaze turn on me, although I still couldn't see much of the form except for vague human features.
"My servant will guide you," it said. It gracefully extended its left arm. A white beam of light shot out of its hand and struck me in the face. I was blinded for a moment and then I could see again.
The Seraph was gone. The landscape around us was dark except for a faint iridescent trail leading forward over the flat sands. The trail sparkled and undulated, like thousands of fireflies pressed close together.
"Can you see that?" I asked Corwin.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"The path of light," I explained.
"No."
Thankfully, he didn't comment about the thing calling me its servant. My heart felt heavy in the pit of my stomach. What had I agreed to in the Abyss? Nothing, I thought. I had merely let the thing touch me and enable my escape from that cold, dark, void. What had it said? Salvation, I recollected. That much had been true, but apparently I had entered into some sort of bargain. I wondered what the Seraph would ask of me in return.
For now, I led Corwin along the path he couldn't see. It wound around and around in the air like a ribbon, almost two-dimensional. Most of the time it remained within a couple feet of the ground, but occasionally it rose up until it hovered a few feet over my head, perhaps twelve feet high. The sand turned to soil, then to rocky scrubland.
The trail led down a steep slope. I dismounted and walked my horse down it. Corwin was ten feet behind me leading his horse. As we neared the bottom, I heard the unmistakable sound of waves crashing. A cool breeze ruffled my hair.
The trail leveled out and entered some scrub pine and heavy undergrowth. I pushed aside the branches for Trick. We made our way through the little woods until we emerged on the shore. Moonlight revealed a shallow beach as the tide receded. My sparkling guideline ran parallel to the water, so I mounted up and continued on. Rocky crags jutted out into the water from time to time, and our horses got their legs wet. The whole time, Corwin said nothing.
Finally the path turned away from the shore and climbed into the woods. It wound around and up, following a little stream that flowed into the ocean behind us until it disappeared around a large boulder. The trees and bushes seemed to smother me now, creeping in when I wasn't looking. What little light penetrated through the tree tops only made the shadows longer and darker.
Around the boulder, the path of pale light faded.
I gasped. It was the Grove of the Unicorn, except it wasn't quite right. The stream was wrong, and the boulder was wrong.
And the little rock altar at the far end of the clearing was wrong. It was rough-edged, not smooth. The air seemed charged with electricity, like the moments preceding a thunderstorm. I looped Trick's reins around a branch and stepped into the clearing.
* * *
After I had been in Amber about two weeks, people figured Caine wasn't going to swoop in and steal me away. They started telling me all the little things I was supposed to know about family etiquette: be polite; aid a family member when possible; and talk first, fight later. Next they schooled me in the common conventions when dealing with non family members: graciously not answering a question; fitting in with Shadow dwellers; seeming humble while appearing superhuman; etc. About six weeks after my arrival I was finally able to have my questions answered directly instead of with a "tsk, tsk" sound.
I asked about the Grove of the Unicorn.
"Didn't Caine tell you about it?" Fiona actually put down the book she was reading and devoted all of her attention to me. That was a first.
"No," I said.
So she did. Fi said that the Grove was the place where Oberon had supposedly first seen the Unicorn that was our family's symbol. The local populace used the place as an informal shrine. Although the official Church watched over the grove, they didn't do much else. I liked that lassitude and told her so. The organized religion I had grown up with had left its worshippers a lot of latitude in their spiritual beliefs; the strict dogma of the Unicorn church seemed more a means to control people through their beliefs than a way to enrich their lives. If the Church let the people worship however they wanted in the Grove, that was definitely a good thing in my book. Fiona smirked at me and continued with the lesson.
The place itself was less than half a day's ride southwest of the castle gates. I told my aunt that I wanted to see it and she gave me directions. The path from the city through the woods was fairly easy to find. I took a couple sandwiches and a jug of wine and rode out that same day.
I passed a couple walking the other direction and stopped to talk with them. Yes, they said, they had been praying at the Grove of the Unicorn. Their daughter was very sick and the priests didn't know what could be done to save her. The mother had been to the Grove once several years before to pray for her sister's recovery and it had worked. They said that people only made the pilgrimage when they were really in need of a miracle. I thanked them for answering my questions and offered them some wine. They refused and started walking again. I thought for a moment, then ran back to them. I gave them the coins I had in my purse, maybe five crowns. It would buy them some firewood and a couple months of good food. I hoped that would help their daughter.
Answer other people's prayers, I thought, because someone might be watching.
They left and I rode on. I followed the path all the way to the Grove. It was as I've described it, although Amber's Grove doesn't have a large boulder at the entrance, and the ocean is further away. I let my horse graze and wandered the little clearing. It didn't feel particularly holy, in that anti-magic way that straight stone roads and certain churches do. It felt…alive, but sleeping. I could sense a faint tingling, a hum beneath the surface of things—nothing I could quite put my finger on.
On the rock at the far end I saw something small. I walked over and looked. It was a small wooden figure wrapped in daisies: a charm for a sick child.
As Amberites, we believe that we are the most powerful beings in the universe. Maybe we are, but does that make us any more important than anyone else? So what if we live forever? A King makes many far-reaching decisions, but what do they matter to the parents of a dying little girl? Whose life is worth more?
* * *
The air pressed menacingly on my skin. My body felt heavier than normal in this weird place that was and wasn't like the Grove I knew. Even the stream sounded odd, as if the water were bouncing around a long metal tunnel instead of a rocky bed.
The little black stone altar at the end of the clearing just didn't seem right, somehow. It drew me in magnetically, pulling at my eyes. I took a step toward it and saw something. A wet lump, glistening and red pulsed slowly on the altar. It was a heart, and it was slowly beating. I took another step.
Suddenly, a sword was sticking out of the heart at a forty-five degree angle, pinning it to the altar. It was Grayswandir.
"Corwin," my voice sounded distant to me, "do you see Grayswandir?"
"No, but I can feel its presence."
Another step, and another sword piercing the organ: Werewindle, unmistakably thrust at a forty-five degree angle opposite Grayswandir. The two of them formed the shape of a V. I licked my lips nervously. I took another step forward.
A staff appeared, directly between the swords and perpendicular to the ground. Wound around it was a serpent, its head swaying slowly above the staff, its tongue flicking in and out. All three of the weapons pierced the heart together. My own heart began to race.
Gripping the staff was a woman. She had pale skin, bright blue eyes and long snow-white hair. Her garment was a loose, pale wrap pinned at one shoulder. She was concentrating on the altar, seemingly unaware of our presence.
"I see someone," I said. "At the stone altar. Do you see her?"
"No," Corwin said.
The pierced heart on the altar pulsed. The woman grimaced.
My feet moved forward. I saw two hands grasping Werewindle. Another step. Two more hands clenching on Grayswandir's hilt. Step. Two more arms raised behind her, their hands holding strangely curled short swords crossed over her head. She had eight arms. Sweat trickled down my ribs.
"Hello," I shouted.
The woman twitched her head slightly, as if her concentration faltered. Between her eyebrows I saw a dark mark. My foot moved forward. I was about five feet from her now. I could see that her garment was stained silvery-black between her breasts. Her whole body was tense, her arms straining.
I couldn't stop myself; I took another step.
In the center of her forehead, a third eye opened. It was blue, but slit vertically like a reptile's. It looked directly at me.
I felt her gaze like a spear that stabbed right through me. All the background noises faded and were overcome by a near-silent hum I could feel in my bones. My balls shriveled up in fear.
Her third eye blinked sideways. The arms behind her head unlocked the curled swords and lowered them until they were extended behind her. She looked at me. The short hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
"I am Aedan," I said, bolder than I felt, "son of Deirdre of Amber."
"Thou art the Silver." Archaic Thari echoed in my head like a thousand-piece orchestra. Her mouth hadn't moved.
"I am here with Corwin of Amber."
"He is nothing to me. Thou must assist."
"Yes," I croaked, my mouth dry. "How may I assist?"
"I cannot move from this place and continue my work."
"What is your work?" Behind me, I heard Corwin ask me who I was talking to.
"The work of the Tower: to change, clean, make life."
The Tower? It was a card in the tarot deck. I couldn't remember what it symbolized.
"What must I do?"
"Free me." Her voice moaned in my head.
"Do you wish me to take your place?"
"I have not the strength." She said, but not as an answer to my question.
I took another step forward.
"Can I give you strength?"
"Mine heart is here," she glanced at the heart pinned to the altar. I realized that all of her arms were straining to pull the weapons out. Two of her hands released Grayswandir. I took a final step forward and grasped the hilt.
I took a deep breath and pulled. After a heartbreaking moment, it slid free in my hands. Energy surged through me and I reeled back until I caught my balance. Dark red blood spurted once out of the heart. The woman's knees buckled but she didn't fall. She straightened herself and resumed her pose. The two hands that had been holding Grayswandir were now holding punch daggers. They moved gracefully into position behind her.
I wiped my brow with my sleeve.
"Corwin!" I turned my head and shouted, my eyes never leaving the eight-armed woman. I tossed Grayswandir behind me.
I placed my hands tightly on Werewindle's hilt and pulled. It didn't budge. I gripped the staff between coils of the serpent and tried to move it. It twisted slightly and the serpent hissed at me.
In my head, the woman's voice roared in pain. It knocked me back, away from the altar. I fell on the ground. I shall hear that roar until the end of my days.
I stood up. The woman was regarding me.
"What can I do?"
"Take back thy strength."
"Do you mean Grayswandir?"
"It does not belong to the past." I was relieved Corwin couldn't hear her. Now I had to decide if I was going to ask him for his blade. 'Hey, the Tower creature told me to,' didn't sound very convincing.
"I shall bring others here," I told the pale woman. "How shall I find you?"
"Desire." The word imprinted itself on my brain like an icy wind.
"How are you called?"
"I am the future." She turned her gaze from me and focused it on her heart. I felt dismissed.
I turned away. The sounds of the woods returned and the place once again only felt really weird instead of surreal. I tried to breathe normally. Corwin was standing a few feet away from me holding Grayswandir. He walked over and sat on the altar rock, oblivious.
"What was it that thing in the desert said about you being its servant?" He slouched casually on the rock, his image superimposed over the heart, staff, and sword. Well, I knew he would ask eventually.
"I seem to have allied myself with something," I told him. "Could you not sit there? Please?"
He shrugged, stood and walked down the grove toward the boulder.
"Thanks for getting my blade," he said. "You can tell me all about it during the ride back."
"Sure, I—"
"No!" The woman's voice in my head screamed. I whipped my head around to look at her. She threw the curled daggers at my head. I brought my hand up to block them and they glanced off and veered away from me.
My stomach erupted. A three-foot long steel horn protruded from it. I tried to run but I couldn't feel my legs. The horn jerked sideways and I flew through the air and crashed to the ground.
A Unicorn stood in the clearing, pawing angrily at the ground. It must have been ten feet tall, with dark gray skin and huge cloven hooves. Its nostrils flared and it bellowed. Branches rattled and leaves fell to the ground all around us.
The two curled swords levitated and flew back toward the woman.
My legs didn't work and I couldn't stand up. Bits and pieces of me leaked out all over the ground. I pushed myself up to a sitting position as the Unicorn charged.
Corwin jumped at it, Grayswandir flashing. His blade locked with the Unicorn's horn and the two struggled in front of the altar.
"Thy strength!" The woman's voice implored me. The two curled swords had returned to her hands. She drew them back to throw again. I was suddenly very afraid. Corwin was between her and the Unicorn.
"Corwin!" I shouted. "To me!" I locked eyes with him as he pushed against the monster.
The woman threw the swords. The Unicorn reared back and roared in agony. It wheeled around, one of the swords protruding from its eye. The ground shook as it landed and raced off into the woods.
Corwin was lying face down on the ground. I tried to crawl to him and couldn't. A curled sword stuck out of the back of his head. He wasn't moving. I called out to him. He didn't respond.
I pulled myself along the ground, suddenly shivering with cold. Pain seared through my abdomen. I looked down and saw my legs where they weren't supposed to be, separated from my body. I had been cut in half.
I groaned, piteously, and fell to the earth. My fists beat against the rocky soil. Ice crept up my hands and arms. Tears streamed down my face. I wiped them away and saw Grayswandir. It had fallen between Corwin and me and was lying on the ground within arm's reach. I reached out and wrapped my cold fingers around the hilt.
Heat rose up my hand and into my body. Grayswandir shuddered and began to shrink. Energy entered me from everywhere, focused on the transforming legendary blade clenched in my fist. I opened my hand and held a ring of dull gray metal. In my head, the energy thrummed with purpose, awaiting my direction.
I willed my body to return to life. Like a light in the dark, I could suddenly see everything in minute detail. The tiniest blade of grass was a map of life. Every particle of air shimmered in translucent glory. I made purpose flow through me and then I could feel my toes again. My body rose into the air, arcing with power. I shuddered, in ecstasy and agony, and collapsed to the ground.
My hair hung in my eyes. My skin was slick with sweat. I was in the clearing, still, but the woman was gone. I crawled quickly to Corwin's body and pulled the curled sword from his head. I felt his wrist. There was no pulse. Angrily, I thrust the ring onto my finger and summoned the energy. It raced toward me in jagged gray bolts of lightning.
I shaped it and let it flow into Corwin's form. I could see every single element about his body, and it wasn't enough. I healed his wound, but he was still dead. Gently, I closed his eyes. I sat and watched the steam rise from his flesh in the evening light.
I don't know how much time passed. I became aware of my surroundings when a bird landed on a branch in my line of vision. I had been staring at nothing for so long I had forgotten everything. I looked down. Corwin's lifeless body reminded me.
I knelt beside him and took up the strange curled sword. It was too long to be a dagger, with a blade like a ribbon curling around a missing central rod. I wiped it clean and tucked it into my belt. I walked down around the boulder but the horses were gone. I called for them and waited. I didn't hear anything. Hopefully they were okay. Studying the Unicorn monster's tracks, it hadn't entered the Grove that way. Trick would be okay by himself for a while. I had a duty to attend to.
I went down on one knee beside Corwin's body and took out Magni's trump. He answered and from the look on his face I could tell he was shocked. He didn't ask any questions but just pulled me through with Corwin's body.
We were in his rooms in Amber, I guessed. There was a chair. I sat in it.
"Corwin's dead." I mumbled.
Magni got me something to drink. I drank it. He got me another.
"Tell me what happened."
I did. I told him about the Seraph, the strange path, and the eight-armed woman only I could see. I told him how the Unicorn had impaled me and tossed me aside, of Corwin's fight and of his death. I remembered then, and pulled the curled sword from my belt.
"This killed him," I said. Magni took it from my hand and studied it. I looked around his room. Paintings of lines and strangely colored objects hung on his walls. I couldn't tell what anything was. His work was even worse than Gabriel's.
"But you aren't wounded," Magni phrased it as a question.
So I told him about Corwin's sword and showed him the ring. I took it off to hand it to him but he wouldn't touch it. The eight-armed woman had wanted me to have it, and she had killed Corwin so I wouldn't have to decide.
"Maybe you should lie down," Magni led me to a bed. I sat on it and tried to pull off my boots. I couldn't, so he helped me. I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes.
"We should tell the King," I said as sleep washed over me. I don't remember my dreams.
* * *
<previous Aedan's Journal next>