Chapter 023: Ill Met By Moonlight

"Everybody waits for everyone to make a show

No one wants to be the first, admitting that they know

How anything that's gone down here

Could fit into an analytic groove

Wait for the tactical move,

Wait for some action we all can approve."

Flight - Peter Hammill

     There have been times that I would have had no doubt whatsoever. Should anyone have asked me then to hand over my dear cousin Murlas I wouldn't have hesitated, but I'd have given him to them immediately, with or without a gift-wrapping, and good riddance!

     Now, however, things weren't so easy anymore, not since all the latest developments. Although I still couldn't say that I really liked Murlas, I didn't really hate his guts either. And there were some other things to consider, like that legacy that Dagger had mentioned. This had to be the same thing that Azrain's ghost had been talking about in Tir-na Nog'th, and keeping Fiona's speculations on that matter in mind I wasn't sure that I wanted Murlas to come into his little inheritance. Aside from that there was also the little matter of how Corwin and I were going to get back to Amber, should Murlas decide to leave with those three strangers. No, Murlas has never been dear to me, but at this moment I just didn't want to part with him.

     Murlas beckoned and the three of us moved a bit further away from the others to talk this matter over privately.

     "First of all," Corwin said to Murlas, "why do they want you?"

     "It has something to do with Azrain, I believe," he replied.

     "They lost Azrain, so now they want you instead? Doesn't make much sense."

     "Well, Dorian saw some kind of a vision that might help to clarify the matter, but I think he had better tell it in his own words." I quickly informed Corwin of the whole Azrain/legacy matter.

     "That's all quite interesting," he said when I was finished, "but I don't see turning Murlas over to them as a workable solution. It's a risk we simply can't take." With that he gave Murlas a hard stare, undoubtedly looking for any indication that he was planning to turn himself in voluntarily. Murlas showed no signs of any such inclinations, though.

     "We do have a choice," was his only comment.

     "Three against three," Corwin observed. "I've seen odds far worse than this." I didn't share in his optimism. Even the least martial looking of our opponents, the lady Mist, seemed to me to be more than able to handle someone like me.

     "I do not think that is such a good idea," Murlas ventured. "They have evidently had time to prepare for our coming. And beside that there is still Galoran to consider. We may get past him this time, but I think that we shall certainly see more of him in the future."

     "If we hand you over, though, there is no guarantee that Dorian and I will be able to get back, is there?"

     "I may have a possible solution to that problem," Murlas replied. "Random has given me a Trump of another Amberite who is capable of travelling to this plane. Unfortunately his or her picture is not on the card, so I do not know who it is. Random has assured me, however, that the Trump will work."

     "Yeah," Corwin smirked, "or we could call a cab."

     "Well, I am sure that that person would take you away from here," Murlas said a bit indignantly.

     "And I'm not so sure," Corwin replied. "For one, we don't have the faintest idea who we might be calling." He left the thought unspoken that there were certain relatives he wouldn't ask for help if his life depended on it. I had to agree with him, though, that the deal seemed less than sound. With everybody on the Overshadow concealing their true identities, for all we knew our call might be answered by Dagger or even by Lord Wolf. Not a nice idea.

     "Random knows whose Trump it is," Murlas reasoned, "and he can be trusted, can't he?"

     Suddenly we became aware of some faint stirrings of music, which drifted nearer and nearer. A few seconds later a harlequin or jester-like figure playing a banjo stepped out from the underbrush. Wolf, Dagger and Mist didn't look very happy at seeing this new character appear, but as yet they didn't make any special moves against him. Under their watchful eyes the newcomer seated himself on a big rock near Lord Wolf.

     "Hmm," Corwin remarked cheerfully, "we might as well wait a couple of minutes in case some more people decide to show up. Do you know this one?" he asked Murlas.

     "Yes, his name is Harlequin. He is a Watcher." Hmm, guessing from the other three's reactions to his presence I'd say that would make them members of the Circle (or Circlers, or whatever).

     "Better late than never, I guess," Corwin remarked.

     Right after he had said that we heard the sound of hoofbeats drawing near. A moment later a rider on a black horse appeared. From his build I could tell that it was a man, but his features remained hidden in the shadow of his wide-rimmed green hat. He wore a red and green costume, and his hat sported a red plume.

     "Late again," I heard someone say. I saw that it was Harlequin, who was shaking his head wistfully.

     "Still, I'm not as late as some others," the rider replied. He had halted his horse within striking range of Dagger. From his words I gathered that at least one other person was scheduled to make an appearance. It would fit nicely, three against three. The five of them were staring off at a certain point in the distance and, sure enough, a couple of minutes later a man wearing a flowing red robe and a turban appeared. He had dark hair and a beard and was as unfamiliar to me as any of the others present.

     "If it isn't the cavalry," Lord Wolf remarked scornfully.

     "I probably won't have to ask you what you're doing here," Mist said.

     "Indeed, that's rather unnecessary, my dear," Harlequin replied.

Listening to them talk amongst themselves made me realize once again that any, if not all of them might be relatives.

     "Please, don't mind us," the rider said to Murlas, Corwin and me. "Just carry on with whatever it was you were doing."

     I looked at the other two and shrugged. The six strangers were still watching us, but they seemed to have more eyes for each other. None of them paid Galoran any attention, though, but then Galoran himself didn't really seem to be aware of anything that was happening around him.

     "What shall we do?" Murlas asked. "We have to do something."

     "Yes," I replied, "and so we shall."

     "But what do you have in mind?" Murlas insisted.

     "I guess we might as well start off into the direction of Galoran over there and just see if any of those six will do anything," I said.

     "Smart thinking," Corwin said. "If we play this one right, we might even get out of this alive. Just kidding!" he added when he saw our worried glances. Great! We're up against six Blue Macaronis and he starts cracking jokes! Just what we needed...

     Nobody came up with a better plan, however, so we just started walking, staying close together and keeping our hands on our swordhilts. We had only just started when Dagger moved to block our way. Immediately the rider appeared at her side, manoeuvring his horse in such a way that Dagger could not reach us. Although the two of them weren't really fighting, there seemed to be some contest going on between them. I could feel a certain tension building up in the air, as if a storm was about to break.

     The next one to bar our way was Lord Wolf, but his opponent, Harlequin, had already anticipated him.

     "Come on," he said, "we've been over this before." A deep and threatening growl emerged from Lord Wolf's throat. Harlequin wasn't scared off so easily, though. He launched himself at Lord Wolf and within a second they were engaged in a brawl of epic proportions.

     Mist gave them a disaproving look as she stepped in our path. Apparently she felt that she was above such ill-mannered behaviour and the man in the red robe seemed to agree with her. Their confrontation was a short one: for a moment they looked each other straight in the eye, then Mist nodded and disappeared. An easy victory, or so it seemed. I looked back at the other two couples. The fight between Lord Wolf and Harlequin was a close one. Lord Wolf seemed to be stronger, but his opponent was a lot faster and he was able to dodge most of the blows. It could go either way as far as I could tell. Meanwhile the rider seemed to be slowly taking the upper hand in his conflict with Dagger. Two wins and one undecided; not bad for our side.

     Suddenly Dagger managed to slip away from the rider and his horse. She sprinted in our direction, one hand outstretched towards Murlas, the other holding a Trump. Oh no, you don't, I thought. I drew my sword and as she reached Murlas I struck her from behind. I didn't get a chance to inspect my handiwork, though, for she disappeared in a rainbow of colours, carrying Murlas with her. Damn! For a moment I couldn't do anything but struggle against the immense pressure that had just been released above my head, then slowly it disappeared again. I realized that someone else, the rider, had taken over Murlas's role as my protector. Gratefully I nodded to him and he nodded back as if to say: "Anytime." Neither he nor the man in red did anything else to help me and Corwin, though, or their partner Harlequin for that matter. They just stood there, waiting to see what was going to happen. After a couple of minutes both Lord Wolf and Harlequin disappeared, leaving the four of us and Galoran with his six Macaronis. So now it was up to us.

     I sheathed my sword again and walked up to Corwin, who had already been studying Galoran from various angles.

     "So what do we do now?" I asked.

     "He seems to be pretty caught up in that little balancing act of his," Corwin said. "Perhaps we could try to throw it all off balance. I must admit that I don't know what he's messing with here and that I also don't know what will happen once the balance becomes distorted, but I guess we have to do it anyway."

     "Maybe together we could try to gain control of one of those Macaronis," I said. He nodded and we immediately suited the action to our words. The power felt really familiar, very reminiscent of the power of the Black Trump, only of a higher level. While I had been able to manipulate the power of the Black Trump in a sort of haphazard fashion, there was simply no way that we would be able to contain and direct the power of one these Macaronis. But then containing it wasn't really our goal here. I melded the power of my mind with Corwin's, a bright and raw affair, and mentally we grabbed hold of the Macaroni closest to us, shoving it in the direction of Galoran. Immediately everything went haywire, with little blue strands of power shooting off in all directions. I heard some screams, maybe my own, and then everything around me faded to black.

      I awoke with the sound of birds. The sun was warming my face and for a moment I was reluctant to open my eyes because of the problems which almost certainly would be waiting for me when I did. Still, a blissful while later my curiosity got the best of me and I scrambled to my feet to find that I was in the middle of a plain somewhere. A closer look turned the plain into a heath with the edge of a forest barely visible in the distance. More to the right stood a small tower.

     With no imminent visible danger in the vicinity I checked myself and found that everything was okay. Even my Trumpdeck was still intact. I realized that I didn't feel any kind of forces or pressure pushing down on me, so I guessed that must be somewhere in Shadow. With nothing better to do and a healthy curiosity for my surroundings I started off towards the tower. As I made my way across the heath the small tower grew in height and tranformed into a small castle with a village close by. To my left a group of small things started drifting into view.

     I felt a little bit better now, enough to bring up my Pattern. Yes, I could feel the texture of Shadow around me. There seemed to enough stability to this place for it to be located not too far from Amber. Curiously I regarded those little things on my left through the Pattern lens. They were a lot larger than I had figured from this distance and they didn't look like anything I had seen before. For lack of a better name I guess you could call them giant woolly centipedes. Apparently they were some kind of herd animals, for when I shifted my vision I noticed a big man with four arms holding a shepherd's staff in one hand while playing the flute with two others. His fourth hand went up in a polite greeting when he had come close enough to notice me. I sensed that he felt a bit sorry for me and I realized that my two arms would be seen as a handicap over here (wherever this was).

     How had I got from the Overshadow to this place? Was it just coincidence? Of course not, no such thing. Luck then? Perhaps, or there was something special about this Shadow. If there was, however, I couldn't see it. I decided to memorize my surroundings for later study and head back home to Amber. Of course I was quite eager to hear what had happened after our little juggling act with the Macaronis and whether the other groups had been successful in stopping the golems. Besides, there was no telling how long I had been unconscious; people might have become worried about me. 

     Disdaining to use my Trumps I Patterned myself back to the castle. On my way to Random's study (what better place to get some information?) I ran into Gerard.

     "Dorian," he said, "it's good to see you again! Corwin had told us that things had got a little out of hand. We were worrying a bit about your safety." Ah, so Corwin had also survived the ordeal. Not very surprising, I guess. I learned that there had been no sign of Murlas since his disappearance. Damn! In a way we had still failed our mission. They had got away with the thing they had been after.

     I sensed that there was something else on my Uncle's mind. Expectingly I looked at his expression which immediately turned graver.

     "Won't you sit down for a moment?" he said. "Here, have a drink." I complied and a stiff one was pushed in my hand. This looked serious.

     "Have you heard from anyone else since you got back?" Gerard asked.

     "No, you're the first one I've seen."

     "Well," he continued, "we managed to beat the pink golem army. At first we had a lot of trouble taking them out, for they were protected by huge blue whirlwinds that whisked off anyone they touched. Fortunately they disappeared at a certain moment, after which we could have our way with the golems. According to Corwin your actions in the Overshadow may have been the thing that stopped those whirlwinds. If so you really did good, for if those whirlwinds had continued to interfere we would never have won.

     "Caine and Adrian played another major role: they managed to blow up the command centre from which the golems were controlled, with the result that the golems all stopped dead in their tracks. After that it was a relatively easy task to dispose of all of them.

     "There was a major battle in the Vale of Garnath, however. Julian's forces had a very hard time fighting those buggers off." He hesitated for a moment and I felt a tinge of anxiety creep into my mind. Julian's army, that was Diana's unit. Surely she was safe... wasn't she? I looked at Gerard who met my gaze with a sad shake of his head.

     "Diana, Myrthe and Rhiane are all missing in action," he said. "Eyewitnesses have testified that the three of them were carried off by one of those blue whirlwinds." I turned my face away and took a good swig of the whiskey he had poured me. No! Not Diana! Not her! I sank into a deep and silent despair, which Gerard tried his very best to penetrate with his explanations.

     "Of course we tried to find out as much as we could about those whirlwinds," I heard him say. "Our only hope is that they are only used to transport things and not to destroy them. Fortunately our experience with those things seems to support that theory. Corwin said that they are used to travel between realities, so maybe that's where the girls are. We have tried to raise them by Trump, but it's no use. Their Trumps aren't even cold."

     I just sat there, listening to his attempts to give me hope, all the while thinking: "If only we had been a little bit faster in talking out Galoran. If only we hadn't hesitated. Then she might have been alright." I faced Gerard again, forcing a faint smile to reassure him of my condition, thanked him and went to my chambers. Inside Wylde was waiting for me.

     "I'm sorry, Dorian," she said as I entered, "but there wasn't anything I could do about it. I didn't have the feeling that she was in any danger, however."

     "It's not your fault," I sighed and stroked her back for a moment. It wasn't anybody's fault, I guess, except for the people who had been masterminding the attack. And to them Diana had probably been just another small nuisance that had needed to be removed from the game. No, she couldn't be dead! She simply couldn't!

     I noticed a piece of paper, which someone had apparently slipped under my door. It was a message from Adrian saying that he had heard what had happened and that he would be around should I need him. I really didn't feel like talking to him, though. I didn't want more pity, more encouraging words. I just wanted to be alone...

     I spent about three hours undisturbed, lying on my bed, thinking. They couldn't be dead, they just couldn't be! Those whirlwinds just had to be transportation devices, just like Corwin had suggested. So they weren't dead, but probably somewhere in some other reality. Not much better than being dead, I guess, but still, they could be saved.

     Finally I decided that it wouldn't do to sit around waiting for somebody to save them. I would have to do something and I already knew one thing which might help to bring them back. First off I had to talk to somebody, though. I changed my clothes to a more fashionable attire and then Patterned myself to my Father's house. After my little negligence of not alerting him to my Mother's return to Amber I figured that I ought to tell him every litlle bit of news about our branch of the family. He was very worried when I told him what had happened to Diana, but he did his best to hide his worries for me.

     "Amberites are tough ones, you know," he said to reassure me. "They always keep coming back, especially when you least expect them to." I smiled. That's the truth, alright!

     "I just can't accept that she's dead," I said calmly. "She's somewhere else and I'm going to find a way to reach her." Dad nodded encouragingly, showing that my plans, whatever they were, had his approval.

     Well, now at least one person knew what I was going to do. I hadn't dared to tell any of my other relatives for fear of them holding me up or even stopping me altogether. My next stop was a place I knew rather well. I had stayed there for a few months after I had first left Amber. It's name was Telgan and it was a place of artists. Any kind of artists: singers, dancers, painters, poets, sculptors, etc, etc. What I hadn't known about Telgan when I first came there was that it was the personal domain of my cousin Algo, mainly because at that time I wasn't even aware that I had a cousin Algo. This time he and not the arts of Telgan, nice though they were, was the reason of my going there. We had to talk, Algo and I.

     I Patterned myself to a sidestreet beside the inn where I had stayed during my first visit. I was a bit disappointed, though, to find that the innkeeper didn't remember me at all. Ah well, I probably hadn't stood out enough amongst all the colourful folk that frequented the establishment. I asked him about the possibilities of sending word to Algo. He told me that my best bet would be to try to reach him through one of the members of his Inner Circle. Fortunately one of them would be teaching some youngsters the finer arts of poetry in a building not far from there the next morning, so I spent the night at the inn and went to see the man as early as possible. The old man recognized my face from their performance at castle Amber (how long ago? it must be ages) and agreed to inform Algo that I was here in Telgan and that I wanted to speak to him rather urgently. Only a few hours later I got a Trumpcall from my reclusive cousin, still as violet as I had last seen him.

     "Hey, Dorian," he said, "good to see you, man! What are you doing here?"

     "I'm afraid that's quite a story," I replied. "Can we talk face to face?" He thought for a moment, then shrugged.

     "Sure," he said and stepped through. Algo immediately arranged a private sitting room for us with a supply of the best wine the innkeeper had in stock.

     "Okay," I began again when we were seated, "what do you know of the latest developments?"

     "Well, I haven't been back to Amber for quite some time now. I've picked up a few rumours, but they're all rather vague."

     "It's quite a story. Hmm, where to start? The attempt on your life, I guess. We still don't know who tried to do you in. I'm sorry to say that there hasn't been much effort to find the assassin, though. It just got a little pushed into the background with all of the other things going on."

     "Ah well, out of sight, out of mind," he said with a half-smile.

     I proceeded to tell him about those things that had caused us to neglect his case. The fact that Diana was my daughter surprised him of course, and he was also quite interested in the raid on the castle and the recent attack of the pink golems.

     "Oh man," he said, "I would have loved to see that! I could work it into a painting: The March of the Pink Golems."

     He settled down a bit when I told him about Diana's disappearance. He immediately tried to cheer me up by saying that he was sure she would turn up again real soon. After I had told him everything he needed to know he was silent for a moment.

     "Oh, by the way," he suddenly said, looking straight at me, "did you send that girl to me?" There was no use denying it, I guessed.

     "She was already on her way here when I met her," I said.

     "She says that you had told her to go to Telgan."

     "It doesn't really matter," I replied smoothly, "I think she would have got here sooner or later." He kept his eyes fixed on me, then shrugged and turned away.

     "At least she isn't as annoying...," he began, but he stopped and looked up as if he were afraid someone might be listening. "It's a weird family," he continued.

     "I guess," I said. "I'm not really interested in them, though. I'm more interested in Galoran." He looked up sharply.

     "What do you mean?"

     "I just want to find out more about him."

     "Like what?"

     "Like everything there is to know about the man," I said.

     "Well, as you know he was my teacher," Algo said after a moment. "He taught me everything I needed to know about drawing Trumps."

     "Just like that?" I remarked. I had learned by now that nobody ever did anything `just like that'. So why would Galoran have done that? What had he hoped to gain from it?

     "Just like that," Algo replied. "Uncle Mike just took me to see him one day and that was that." Ah yes, that strange story of the Random-lookalike. Could have been a shape shifter, I guess.

     "I did meet him again later on," Algo said. "Galoran that is. It was, oh the second night after the big Family Banquet, I guess. I was up late, painting, when all of a sudden that Dworkin fellow turned up in my chambers. He asked me who had taught me to draw Trumps and when I mentioned Galoran he produced a Trump drawn in Galoran's style. When I took a closer look, though, I was immediately transported through the Trump to some desert place off in Shadow. None of my other Trumps worked over there, so I just started exploring the place and I found a strange little house where I was greeted by some kind of a demon-monster. Inside another demon was waiting for me, this one wearing glasses. To my surprise he changed into Galoran for a moment and then turned back to the ugly red form. He asked me how I had got there and then slipped me a spiked drink. Later I awoke in an entirely different Shadow, from where I managed to find my way back to Amber."

     I stared at him for a moment. Surely such a strange story could not have been thought up on such short notice. No, it probably was true. So Dworkin knew more about Galoran. Not really surprising, I guess, since there doesn't seem to be much that Dworkin doesn't know about, but still. It reminded me of the remark the Galoran ghost had made in Tir-na Nog'th about his brothers. Could it be that he was Family too? It might help to explain some things.

     "I never saw Galoran again after that," Algo continued. "I'm sure, though, that Murlas also knew him."

     "Yeah, well, I don't think it will be easy to get in touch with him for a while," I sighed.

     "He's a bad half-crown if ever I've seen one," Algo muttered. "I'm sure he'll turn up when we least expect him." Hmm, I wish I could be so sure of that...

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