Winds That Will Be — Aedan's Journal
"The Most Unscratchable Itch Ever"
Aedan's Journal. Session 7-28-00.
© 2000 Todd Worrell
That night, I lay awake in bed for hours, wondering what in the Seven Hells of Scaethach she meant. Who was "us?"
Was it Flora's generation? Did she mean that we shouldn't act the same way they had? They fought among themselves, conniving and scheming.
Did she mean that we shouldn't be a group, that we shouldn't cooperate together? Should we fight among ourselves, conniving and scheming?
Two interpretations of the same word, with opposite meanings. I wanted to break something, but the only likely candidate was my brain. At the moment she said it, I wanted to question her, ask her what exactly she meant. But it was this great profound moment, and I didn't want to spoil it. Decorum getting in the way of clarity, the story of my life.
I turned on my side, the sheets tangling around me. We couldn't be Flora's generation. We couldn't imitate them if we tried. They were too diverse and secretive. Hell, I lived with Caine for ten years without a break of more than ten days, and I felt like I barely knew him.
So did that mean that we weren't to cooperate? My cousins and I had set a new standard for amity and teamwork in the One True city. Wouldn't it just be a bitter irony if our friendship and goodwill fucked up the universe?
I yanked the covers over my head. If I limited my oxygen, I would be forced to calm down. If I calmed down, I would fall asleep. I stared at the inside of my eyelids.
What if, wonder of wonders, Gabriel were correct? Maybe he had stumbled onto something. Corwin had mentioned an "equation." Gabriel's belief that the Pattern was a reflection of the elders' strife might hold a degree or three of truth. I gritted my teeth, but had to admit to myself that the kid wasn't completely stupid. And he was Brand's son, whatever that meant.
So if I assumed that the "Stasis is Bad" theory were true for a moment, what course of action should I take? Should I wreak havoc somewhere in Shadow? Should I challenge a relative to a duel? Should I insult the Queen and get my ass banished from Amber, hiding off in a friendly Golden Circle kingdom while I built a network of spies who would work with me to prepare the universe for my triumphant return?
I'd have to think about it.
* * *
I yawned, stretched, and wished it had all been a dream. The King was dead. Fiona was dead. Llewella had killed herself. Benedict was gone, and Martin was in way over his head. Just another rosy dawn washing over Kolvir.
Since I had been stuck in the castle while Raj was on vacation in Rebma, I took it upon myself to tell him what had happened in his absence. He was especially interested in Gerard's abnormal behavior. I hoped that my hints about keeping the sword in Amber would spur him to convince his father of the necessity. Or maybe, since everyone was acting out of character, Raj would just steal it from Gerard.
Gabriel and Magni ambled up to the breakfast nook. The four of us spoke little as we competed for the last of the eggs. Magni and I stayed behind to plan our vacation in the sunny Courts of Chaos when Gabriel and Raj left.
It seemed Magni had an idea.
So we descended. Someone had removed my rope from the stairway, and we had to walk down. It wasn't so bad now, without the jungle motif. In fact, it was just a stroll now that I wasn't facing death and failure of a lifelong ambition.
Magni was, but he was taking it pretty well.
Gabriel and Raj were sitting near the edge of the Pattern. Gabriel was sketching. Raj didn't appear to be doing much of anything.
The Pattern was completely back to normal—except for the kinda blackish parts. Well, at least the monster was gone. Magni had never seen the thing up close and personal. He had been here before, but he hadn't been conscious long enough to really examine it. Okay, so I knocked him out once. He didn't remember it well enough to know that I had done it; his own weird reactions around power happened often enough to blame his sudden sleepiness on his screwy system. So I was innocent in his eyes, and a good tour guide.
"This big doodle is what makes the world turn." I said. I reminded Magni of the veils, the energy surges, the most unscratchable itch ever. Then we were at the beginning. Raj and Gabriel had been conversing, but now they were watching us intently now.
"Where do you step?" Magni asked.
"Right here," I pointed.
"Like this…?"
Magni set foot upon the Pattern. What happened there is his story to tell. At one point it looked to me like he had four arms, but the sparks were dancing about him something fierce at that point so I couldn't be sure. Either that or I was having a Sedillic mushroom flashback. Being near the Pattern had all sorts of strange side-effects.
I had never watched anyone walk the Pattern before. Had the sparks been that high when I had done it? It was rather exciting, knowing that a false step meant death. When Magni had pushed through the final veil I noticed that I was sweating and my heart was racing. I wanted to run, scream, to break something with my fists. I wanted to fuck someone. But I couldn't leave. It was the most fascinating, tedious thing I had ever seen. After the better part of two hours he was done.
Magni collapsed in a big, gangly heap at the end of the line. We shouted at him, telling him how to transport himself wherever he wanted to go. He listened carefully, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
We waited.
"It doesn't work!" Magni shouted, and disappeared.
* * *
I shouted. My two remaining cousins were chattering on but I couldn't listen. I almost drew my sword on them. I had sparred with Gabriel before, so I knew I could take him. Raj was a big guy, with thick arms and legs so he would make an easy target. My hand twitched. I clenched my fist, unclenched it.
I ran—out the door and up the stairs until my thighs ached. I kept running down the halls, past servants who pressed against the walls to get out of my way. Finally, I was outside, sucking in huge lungfuls of air. The sky was overcast, the sun hovering somewhere behind a gray sheet of clouds. The breeze carried the tang of saltwater to me. I closed my eyes and felt the wind play about my face.
For a moment, I almost forgot where I was. I was standing on the deck of the Valiant, my world rising and falling with the swells. I heard a gull cry and it sounded like his voice.
Caine.
Where was he now? Why wasn't he here? I had tried his trump so often that I had worn it down until I could tell it from the rest in my pouch just by touch. I didn't think that he could still be mad at me. I left when I was ready to leave, just like he always said. Maybe I should have said goodbye.
I shook my head. He used to slap me in the upper body with the back of his hand whenever and wherever, just to keep me on my toes. Be alert always, and you might not die yet. That was a comforting thought. Throughout the years I got better at avoiding his slaps, or making them glance off my shoulder, but I was never good enough to dodge all of them. The crescent-shaped scar on my left bicep was from his fingernail. I pressed it with the palm of my right hand, thinking.
Was he my friend? He was my uncle, and that was somehow both more, and less, than I had ever wanted.
* * *
"Don't disturb him," Gwydion whispered, pulling his long, forked beard in a familiar gesture.
I peered through the alembics, beakers, and whatever else Gwydion called all these wires and jars. A strange little man with enormous white eyebrows was mixing solutions in Gwydion's laboratory.
"Who?" I asked as I chewed on a sandwich I had brought with me.
"Him," he pointed. That, I knew already. Gwydion would never admit he didn't know the fey wizard's name.
"When did he get here?"
"After the explosion. He's been at it ever since," He pulled his beard again.
"What's he doing?" I was getting exasperated.
"Working," he equivocated.
That was enough. I set the remains of my dinner on the plate and stepped out of Gwydion's hiding place and into the main chamber of the lab. The little man was dropping a pink liquid into a glass beaker half full of some other solution. When I came into his sight he stopped.
"Er, ah," he hemmed. "Was that, um…twelve (?) drops?" he asked me. His eyebrows wiggled.
I had no idea how many drops it was.
"Yes," I said confidently
"Oh," he exhaled. "Good, good. Can't be too careful. Very dangerous, very, very…um."
I waited. Lord Tufty, as I thought of him, went back to mixing and stirring.
"My name is Aedan of Amber," I declared.
"Nice to meetcha," he smiled in a grandfatherly, don't-bug-me sort of way.
"It is polite to give your own name when meeting someone for the first time," I explained.
"Er, what? Oh," he set down a test tube and wiped his hand on his red and orange robe. "Eredwaith."
I shook his hand, knobby but strong. He pinched his nose at me in a half-smile and nodded a couple times. Then he went back to his table. I followed him.
"What are you working on?" I asked.
"Fascinating. Truly amazing." The little man held up a shimmering length of silver-gray cloth. It looked like a wide sleeve, something worn to help one blend into the darkness.
"Artifacts, weapons, rings, remnants of spells…." Eredwaith rattled off a nonsense list unrelated to my question. I hesitated to speak when he paused for breath, and he turned quickly and sniffed my sleeve, then poked his nose at my face.
"You have a strange signature," he said.
Okay. Whatever. He was a sorcerer, and he was checking out my magic. Fine.
"Yes, well, it's been a wonderful conversation," I effused falsely "and one I would dearly love to continue one day, but I'm afraid I must leave now. May I call on you in the future?"
"Of course, of course, um." He arranged the sleeve, then rearranged it.
"And how may I find you?"
"Oh, just look for me. Ask around."
"In the Fey realms?"
"Yes, yes, er… hmmm," he rubbed his nose.
"Is there anyplace in particular I should look for you?"
"No, no, no…" he fished in a pocket of his robe. "Here," he said, and handed me a shiny, smooth black pebble. "Use this."
"How?" I asked.
"Hold it open to the air, and speak my name. Follow it."
"It works like a compass?" I suggested.
"Yes, but with more legs." He made a shooing gesture and his eyebrows bobbed. "Back to work, back to work." I stood beside him a moment more, then retreated. Gwydion was still hovering, wide-eyed, beyond the radius of the lanterns' light, absently chewing on my sandwich. Knowing him, he would stand there for hours if the fey man kept working. I shrugged and opened the heavy door to the hall.* * *
Breakfast was disappointing. I had only eaten half of my sandwich the night before, so I was really hungry. As I walked up to the breakfast nook, Gregory and Gabriel were already eating. Gabriel had a modest spread of rolls, and a grapefruit. Gregory had a platter piled high with greasy bacon, fatty sausage, and a mountain of scrambled eggs with bits of green and pink stuff living in it. I grimaced.
"Still got the shells in it too," Gregory said affably, gesturing with a fork at the egg pile. "Good for the digestion." Gabriel wrinkled up his nose, and I lost most of my appetite.
I rummaged around for a bowl of Muesli and a grapefruit of my own. A gallon of tomato juice helped dispel the reek of Gregory's repast. As I finished, Magni stumbled up in his robe and slippers.
He ate anything left on the table. He ate everything put in front of him, even the bits of bacon that Gregory hadn't deemed worthy. He didn't slow down to drink, talk, or breathe. In twenty minutes he had devoured as much food as Gerard usually ate in an hour. We tried to ignore him.
We failed.
Eventually, Magni cleaned the last plate, drank two pitchers of orange juice, and told us of his first Pattern walk.
"The black paths on the Pattern were exceptionally difficult and painful," he said.
"Even more difficult than the veils?" Gabriel asked, leaning forward.
"Oh yeah. It was like a combination of strong, powerful emotions combined with excruciating pain."
"I think I've dated her," I quipped.
"Fascinating," Gabriel murmured obliviously.
"At one point," Magni continued, "it was as if someone or something was in there with me."
"What do you mean?" Gregory asked. "Walking beside you?"
"No. Actively opposing me."
"How do you know that you weren't just hallucinating?" I was intimately familiar with the surreal images brought on by various mind-altering substances.
"He didn't follow the theme of the visions. He was a fifteen or twenty-foot tall man-like creature with greasy, blue skin and a black mane. He held a gigantic, double-bladed axe."
"Was he a Chaos scumbag?" Gregory's opinions of our distant neighbors were rarely flattering.
"I don't know," Magni said. "I think he had some connection with my past and Chaos, but I don't know if I've ever seen anyone like him before."
After some more speculation, we got up to leave. We decided that before we all ran off we should keep in contact with each other on a regular basis. Gabriel said that it wasn't safe to communicate anything private via the Trumps. Of course, he didn't have any evidence, but we agreed to use some code phrases and gestures if the need arose.
Gabriel asked me to look at his latest sketches and I agreed. He had been trying to get the Pattern right, or something, and it really got him talking. I didn't really listen, just made the appropriate noises when he paused or seemed to ask a question.
So we walked to his chambers. I hadn't been in his rooms in over a month. Since my last visit, no servants had been by to clean as evidenced by the overwhelming quantities of paper everywhere. Every surface was hidden beneath at least one sketch, usually two or three. They all looked pretty much the same with blue lines running mostly parallel. I was spared too much of Gabriel's inane ranting about them when he stopped in mid sentence and began scribbling on one of the sketches. I waited to make sure he wasn't going to start rambling again, but he seemed to have forgotten I was there altogether. So I went through my trump deck to see if anything had changed.
Caine's card was cold. That was different. I took it out and stared at it. His mysterious smile seemed to mock me and I cursed him silently for not being here when Amber needed him. I concentrated for a long time. I felt the stirrings of another mind in the darkness and pushed. Someone answered.
* * *
<previous Aedan's Journal next>