Chapter 021: Down Among The Living, Up Among The Dead

"They flutter behind you, your possible pasts,

Some brighteyed and crazy, some frightened and lost.

A warning to anyone still in command

Of their possible future to take care."

Your Possible Pasts - Pink Floyd

     Somewhere below me a lonely seagull, a late flyer, speeds on its way to the safety of its nest. I follow the path of its flight as I keep climbing the endless silver stairs. It's a good thing I'm not scared of heights, otherwise I would never have been able to make this trip. Not that I am altogether convinced of its wisdom, though. It's just that I feel that I need to do this. Who knows, I may even get a few answers...

     I look up at my destination: Tir-na Nog'th, the silver city in the sky. The place where the ghosts hold sway and where one may sometimes catch a glimpse of the future, or at least of a possible future. Fresh insights may also be acquired there, be they personal or general. There are no guarantees, however; you may just as well spend the whole night chasing phantasms and illusions, and return to the real world none the wiser, if you are so lucky to escape at all.

     I remember that once, when I was still a kid of about twelve or thirteen, Aliane and I dared Koras to spend a night up there. He almost went through with it too, but his father found out just in time and the three of us got grounded. Our parents had been mad as hell; to the normal Amber folk Tir-na Nog'th is something to be avoided at all cost. Occasionally parents even scare their children into submission by threatening to leave them there. Only daring young fools and the Royal Family ever visit that place, and of those often only the latter return. Now that I thought back to that particular episode, it seemed to me that my Father had been a bit more concerned about our foolish prank than any of the other parents. Had he been worried about me finding out about my true heritage too early? Could be...

     How I longed for those younger, simpler days! Things had been so much easier back then. Now everything had changed. Even that special bond of friendship between the three of us, Koras, Aliane and me, had somehow faded through the years. I realized that I really missed those two. It would be good to see them again some time, perhaps share a glass of wine together and reminisce about old times. We probably wouldn't get to do that for quite some time, though. Koras was off somewhere captaining one of his father's merchant ships, and the last thing I heard from Aliane was that she was busy being groomed to be the perfect wife, while her father was desperately trying to find her a suitably rich and important husband. I pity those whose task it was to prepare her for that role, as I pity her husband-to-be; Aliane had always managed to boss both Koras and me around quite easily.

     And as for me, Dorian, son of Baron Vilcon Harolan and Princess Deirdre of Amber, I was currently busy climbing the steps of that ghost city, hoping to find a few possible answers there. Since I belong to the second category of visitors I felt that I should be able to get away without being harmed. Seeing, however, that I also qualify for the first category, that of the daring young fools, I had taken the precaution of bringing my Uncle Corwin with me. He would stay near the first few steps and would immediately pull me through if I were to Trump him. So here I go, up and at 'em...

      After all the wounded had been transported to the infirmary and someone had taken care of the wound in my side, I had returned to my chambers to get some sleep. I had somehow managed to forget all about that cut; it was as good thing Fiona had remarked upon it and sent me to one of the physicians. It wasn't too bad, but still, it was more than just a little scratch and leaving it untreated was just about the most stupid thing to do. Yet another reason for lying down and getting some shut-eye.

      I didn't care much about what was happening in the castle at that moment; there were enough relatives running around to sort it all out and I really did need a lot of rest. I instructed a servant not to let anyone disturb me and asked him to wake me at nightfall, if I still wasn't awake by then. And that's the way it was.

     I found myself rather refreshed after the luxury of so many hours of sleep. My side still smarted, but it looked better already. Just a few days and it would be healed completely. Yes, there are certain advantages to being an Amberite. I was hungry, though, and I asked the servant to bring me some food while I washed and dressed. One glance outside my window told me the weather was perfect: almost no wind and a totally clear sky, with some stars already twinkling merrily to a tune only they could hear.

     After my private dinner I trumped Corwin to see whether he was still coming along. He was a bit surprised that I hadn't decided to postpone my trip, but he said that naturally he would join me; he had to take care of just a few other things first, though. I waited for about half an hour in my room until he finally showed up, carrying a picnic-basket.

     "This way it will be a picnic for at least one of us," he said. I forced a smile. I was trying very hard not to worry, but I found that despite all my efforts a certain nervous excitement was slowly taking control of me. Maybe I shouldn't try so hard. Maybe I should just relax. Yeah, sure! You try to relax when you're going to visit a certified haunted castle. But then I had only myself to blame for this trip; nobody had even suggested it to me, let alone coaxed me into doing this. So I'd better stop complaining and get on with it...

     As we guided our horses along the winding path to the top of the Kolvir, where the ghostly transparent image of Tir-na Nog'th was already taking on shape in the light of the slowly rising moon, I talked with Corwin about the previous night's attack. He told me that there had been two points where the attackers had focused their efforts: down in the dungeons (no real surprise, since I had been there to see it) and up in the Royal infirmary. He was quick to reassure me that my Mother hadn't been wounded, but apparently the blue meanies had got through to Martin, and although he was still alive, his condition was rather serious. Fortunately Adrian and Aunt Flora had been there in time to stop the assailants from doing any more damage. I had some trouble conjuring up a mental image of Aunt Flora in battle; it's not that I didn't think she wasn't capable (she's an Amberite after all), it's just that I had never seen her take any real interest in physical combat.

     Corwin mused a bit about the whole attack. The assailants had somehow managed to circumvent all the normal defenses, appearing right smack in the middle of the castle, where their sudden appearance had caused the death of many a Royal guard. Currently the most popular theory held that they somehow must have had one or more Trumps of Castle Amber, which had Fiona talking about something she called a Trump scanner, a sort of security device that would only let certain people pass through a Trump. I didn't know whether I really liked that idea. Sure, it would prevent such an attack from ever happening again, but who would be the one to select the people who were allowed to pass through or not? Again it all boiled down to the question of trust: who would you trust with such an important job? Who can you trust?

     When we finally reached the summit, Tir-na Nog'th had grown a lot brighter and a lot more solid. I regarded the silver staircase extending upwards from the first three steps, which were the only things that would remain after the moon had set. It promised to be quite a climb. 

     My original plan had been for Corwin to stay in continuous contact with me through my Trump, but Corwin suggested that it would be better for me to contact him if I ran into any problems. He reminded me of the problem of a continuous contact: it meant that he would be privvy to all my thoughts and visions up there. This of course made me change my mind right away. He might for instance find out about me and Diana, or what my Mother was really like... I pinned Corwin's Trump to the left sleeve of my shirt, nodded to him and with Grayswandir firmly in my right hand I began ascending the stairs.

     So here I am, climbing and climbing and climbing... The stairs never seem to end... Its almost impossible to tell how much time has passed... I always thought that the Pattern messes up your sense of time, but Tir-na Nog'th is even worse... The banister is cool and smooth under my left hand, echoing the coolness of Grayswandir in my right. The sword is indeed linked with the city, I can feel it. It's very faint, but the link is there. I shouldn't forget to thank Uncle Corwin once more for lending it out to me...

     Finally I reach the gates of the city. I enter and start heading for the castle, where I feel my ghosts will be waiting for me... The streets are empty but for an occasional glimpse I catch of some movement just at the edge of my vision, out of the corner of my eye. I turn, but every time there's nothing there. Eerie...

     Then I hear footfalls... No, that's not right: I don't hear them, I sort of sense them in my mind. They're drawing closer... Ahead of me I see a small, silver shape down the street... A child... With a start I recognize her: it's the Alice in Wonderland lookalike, Violet's sister. She doesn't appear to notice me... On a whim I decide to try out Grayswandir's abilities. I gently touch her arm with the flat of the blade. Immediately she gains in colour, her dress turns blue, her hair blond... She looks up at me, seeing me for the first time.

     "Good day, sir," she says, curtsying politely. "Please sir, have you perhaps seen a white unicorn with a pocket-watch?" I shake my head and break the contact. The girl first changes back to silver, then disappears... Weird... Well, at least the sword seems to be working alright... I shrug and walk on through the lonely streets. Stranger things are still to follow, I suppose...

     Three streets further on my way I again hear some sounds; this time it's singing. Or chanting to be more precise... It sounds familiar... I turn a corner and yes, it is them, those orange-clad cultists, the same that were controlling Aradia. Of course at the moment their garments are silver and not orange, but I would be able to recognize them no matter   what colour they wore... I glance up at the wall they are facing expecting to see Aradia, but no, it is Murlas... What does he have to do with those cultists? I move up to him, but before I'm there he starts to change. His flesh starts to crawl, rippling and flowing, and in a matter of seconds his human form is completely gone, leaving a big, amorphous blob of flesh in its place... The blob slides down from the wall and starts moving from one cultist to another, absorbing or devouring each of them until none are left... Then the same rippling, flowing effect begins again, and as if I'm watching a movie rewind, I see Murlas emerge from the blob... He doesn't see me, of course he doesn't see me... As he walks by I tap him on his shoulder with the sword. He looks up, startled, a suspicious glint in his eye. He sees me, recognizes me, his expression softens a little.

     "Ah, Dorian," he says, smiling. His clearly exaggerated friendliness sends a shiver down my spine. For the first time I notice that there is a hand where a hook should be...

     "Well, Murlas, what brings you here?" I ask casually. He regards me with a calculating look in his eyes.

     "Oh, nothing in particular. Why do you ask?"

     "Just curious, I guess. I'd still like to know what you're doing here, though."

     "As I said, nothing in particular. However, one might ask you the very same thing." I sigh and remove Grayswandir from his shoulder. In a matter of seconds he fades and is gone... Talking with the real Murlas is hard enough, but his ghost seems to be even more evasive, something I had not thought to be possible, though...

     I move on... The streets are still empty, forsaken, no people anywhere... I wonder... Is it supposed to be day or night when you visit Tir-na Nog'th? Not down there in Amber I mean, but up here? I don't know if there is an answer to that question, but it somehow seems important to me. I ought to ask somebody, once I get back... Turn a corner, and there is the castle, a bit hazy and shimmering in the moonlight, but more beautiful than ever... I pick up my pace. I want to get there before the night is through...

     Moving into the better neighbourhoods of Amber, the streets are a bit wider... I turn another corner, onto Weavers Street... Fond memories there, of a little cafe called The Maiden's Return, in front of which I had spent many an afternoon, sketching passers-by, drinking some wine with friends and generally enjoying life. That was before I knew who my Mother was, though. That had changed everything, it seems... I reach the cafe and my stride falters. Somebody is sitting there at my usual spot, right beside the door, under the sign of the oddly faceless lady climbing up to the castle on the hill... I cannot clearly see the man's face, but I'm certain that it is a man, and knowing the uncanny powers at work in this place I guess it's somebody I'm supposed to know, probably even somebody I'm supposed to meet... Well, I came up here to meet some ghosts, didn't I? My current course brings me in touching distance of the stranger, so I just keep on going...

     Before I am at his side, even before he turns his face towards me, my step falters again as I realise who it must be. There is no colour but silver, but the three gaping wounds in his chest, argent blood still trickling down from them, are as clear a mark as any other. Do I want to meet him, though? Will he resent me for having killed him? Stupid question! Of course he will! But he also might have some very useful answers, and I should be safe from him here in this place... He doesn't seem to notice that his lifeblood is slowly oozing out of him, but then why should a ghost worry about such trifles? He just sits there, sipping his silvery tea, calm, cool, collected... Grayswandir's point touching his throat draws his attention... He looks up at me a little indignantly at such rudeness, never losing his cool...

     "What are you doing here?" I ask him sharply. My voice sounds a little tense to my own ears...

     "Are you the one who has killed me?" Azrain asks calmly.

     "Could be...," I answer, on my guard for any sudden moves on his part. None seem to be forthcoming, though...

     "I have a message," he continues, as if my answer to his question doesn't really matter. "It is not for you, but for my brother. Tell him that he is the heir from now on."

     "I don't understand. Your brother?"

     "You know him." He sounds very certain. "He tried to kill me too." No, it couldn't be! Could it?

     "You mean Murlas?"

     "If that's what you want to call him." He turns away...

     "No, wait! What do you mean? Does he have any other names?" It's no use. Although I haven't moved Grayswandir for even an inch Azrain's ghost starts to fade... Apparently he was only here to give me this message... Could it be true? No, never mind all that now, save it for later, when you're safe at home... For now, let's get on with this show...

     It only seems like a five-minutes-walk until I come to my next pair of ghosts sitting at a fork in the road... The old man smoking a pipe is slightly familiar...  Where have I seen that face before? Yes, I remember: the statue in the chapel where we found the Black Trump... Murlas had said that he had seen a name inscribed in the pedestal, the name of Algo's teacher, Galoran... I can't place the girl sitting in his lap, until I notice the small cigar she's smoking... I once again use Grayswandir to make contact, and as I expected her hair turns the right shade of violet... She looks at me in surprise...

     "What are you doing here?" Violet asks. "I am dreaming you, aren't I? All those people walking in and out of me dreams all the time..."

     "So how's my cousin?" I ask. She looks uncomprehendingly... "You know, Algo?" I add...

     "Oh, Algo! Well, he's fine, you know. He'll be throwing a party soon. Or was that yesterday? Ah, never mind!" I smile, beginning to comprehend some of my cousin's troubles with this girl... I shift the contact from her to the old man, hoping that he has got something more to say...

     "So, young man, what can I do for you?" he says with the hint of a smile around his lips... I wonder what finds so amusing...

     "Actually, you could help me by telling who you are."

     "The name is Galoran." I sense that my question has somehow heightened his amusement...

     "That's only a name. It doesn't tell me anything, really."

     "I know, I know. I've always been the least well-known of my brothers. I guess it comes from never having made any open choices." Before I get the chance to ask him about his brothers he changes into a white rabbit and hops away down the street... I can't help but smile; the only thing missing would be him complaining that he's so very late... Ah, well, yet another cryptic message... Store and review later...

     Walking, walking, walking... Alone, alone, alone... Some company, real company that is, would have been nice... Maybe I should have asked Wylde to come with me, but I hadn't seen her since we arrived back in Amber... Probably too busy chasing rats throughout the castle... I don't really worry about her... She can take care of herself and I'm certain she will show up again in due course... What time is it? Hard to tell... I could have been walking here for hours, or just for one... The moon is still up there, though, so I've still got some time left...

     I'm finally getting near the castle grounds when I see a couple coming up to me... The man is Algo; he's wearing a collar... The girl with the long curls, who is holding his leash, is also familiar, but I only recognize her face when we're at a two-meter distance. I only met her once, and at that time I was busy dodging the bullets she was sending in my direction. From all I've heard I guess this must be Lisa... Without hesitation I put Graywandir at her throat. She's certainly supposed to be able to answer some questions...

     "What's the meaning of this?" she asks.

     "I might ask you the same thing," I counter. "Why did you take a shot at me and Adrian back in Angel City? You could have killed us! And we never did you any harm."

     "I know my duties and I always carry them out," she says indignantly. Nice, another one with the same ideas as Uncle Caine has... I glance at Algo. He looks confused and strains against the leash. He can't seem to open the collar, though... I raise Grayswandir and bring it down in a long swinging arc, cutting through the leash... Immediately the two of them start fighting amongst each other... With some difficulty I manage to seperate them, threatening Lisa with my blade...

     "You keep out of this!" she shouts at me. She looks very angry and distressed. "He had no right to take my place, you hear! No right at all!"

     "What do you mean, taking your place?"

     "What's it to you? You don't care! Everybody's always on his side!"

     "Well," I say softly, "maybe that is because we don't know about your side..." She stares at me for a couple of seconds, and then disappears... Algo is already gone... What to make of this I don't know, but I guess I will be more inclined to hear Lisa out, should we ever meet again. I somehow get the feeling that there's a tragedy there we know nothing about... I wonder which member of the Family helped to cause it...

     I move on, entering the Royal Gardens with already five encounters behind me. The spirits are restless tonight... Somehow all the plants look even more unearthy in all these shades of silver than the people I have met so far... I quicken my pace... Then I see a movement to the left of me... Two people, no, three: two women and a child... One of the women is heavy with child... She laughs, turns her head, and I recognize Vialle... Should I go up and talk to her... Then I see who the other woman is... Suzanne... My gaze drifts from her to the child, a little girl with long black hair... No! That's too cruel to be true... Diana...?

     Quickly I turn, and I hurry away from them, away from that happy, peaceful scene, away from what might have been... Oh, how much I would like to change things, if only I could... If only I could...

     In my confusion I don't pay any attention to where I'm going... I just wander around through the gardens, till I come upon an amusing, and at the same time disconcerting little scene: the ghosts of Aunt Fiona and Aunt Flora playing a game of croquet, but instead of balls they're using two severed heads. Fiona is playing with Vincent's, while Flora is using Algo's... Yet another Alice in Wonderland reference. I wonder, would they shout "Off with his head!", if I were to make contact with them? I decide it's better not to find out... I watch them for a little while longer, trying to see which of them is winning the game... It's hard to say exactly; Flora hits her son's head rather forcefully, but Fiona plays with a lot more precision... I realize it would take me too long to see the end of this game, so I move on... Not much time left... The moon is already way past its zenith...

     I try to find my way to the castle, but all the paths seem to lead away from it... I turn and turn and turn, but to no avail... There's a girl sitting on a bench over there... Long before I'm close to her, I know it's Diana... She's crying... I make contact... he looks at me with a tear-streaked face...

     "What's the matter?" I ask gently.

     "I don't know," she sniffs. "I... I want to go home. I don't feel the way I'm supposed to feel." I want to say something to her, to comfort her, to tell her everything's going to be alright, but her face changes to Deirdre's... She is smiling...

     "Mother...?" I ask.

     "Oh, hello dear," she says in a very sultry voice. Too sultry, and that smile is also much too obtrusive... I frown. I don't like it... Emboldened by my strange mood I ask her the one question I would probable never directly ask her in real life...

     "Why did you leave me, Mother? Why did you leave me behind?" Her smile never falters for a second.

     "Oh, I don't know," she answers casually.

     I don't get a chance to get mad at her, though, for her form shifts again, this time to one of those blue guys with the cloven hoofs... I quickly break contact, but it's no good: the meany doesn't fade away, but instead attacks me with his sword... Instinctively I parry, and to my shock and surprise our swords connect! I try to fend him off, while at the same time I concentrate on finding a way out of this. I have to get rid of this guy, the moon will not last for very much longer... I'm startled to find that we seem to be going through the same motions as the fight in the dungeons the previous night... I also realize that there are others on their way to get me too. In my head I can hear loud, booming footfalls, as if something very large is on its way... Desperately I try to finish my opponent off... Two or three fancy moves, and I manage to hit him, making him split apart in thousands of little silvery pieces, whirling off in every direction... I grab the Trump on my left sleeve and start concentrating... Fortunately Corwin is there right away, extending a hand and pulling me through, all without a word... I'm glad to be out... It'll be a long time before I ever go back there again, that's for certain!

     "And did you have any amusing visions up there?" Corwin asked as he passed me a glass of brandy. He sounded a bit whimsical, but there was a slight note of concern too. I accepted the glass with a wry smile and shook my head, indicating that I didn't want to talk about it. The brandy burned in my throat as I gulped it all down, then I let him pour me another one. As he filled his own glass I unbuckled Grayswandir and handed it back to him. I felt a slight feeling of regret at having to part with the sword. It was truly a remarkable weapon, in more than one sense. Corwin gracefully acquiesced to my wishes of not wanting to share anything I had seen. We mounted our horses and with one last glance at the already fading image of Tir-na Nog'th we headed back to the real world.

     Silently I reflected upon the things I had seen this night. Some of them were just plainly weird and puzzling, like the encounter with the Alice girl, or the one with Galoran and Violet. Not much information to be garnered from those, except for Galoran's reference to his brothers. And of course it connected him in some way with those two girls, the two sisters. I wonder... Could they perhaps be his daughters? Interesting possibility...

     I also mused on how much was known about this Galoran anyway. He was supposed to have been Algo's master, the one who had taught him to draw Trumps. There had been something strange about that, since Algo claimed that Random (or Uncle Mike, as he called him) had taken him to Galoran, while Random insisted that he had never done such a thing. Be as it may, Galoran had taught Algo how to draw Trumps, but without using the Pattern or the Logrus as a power-base. Instead Algo's Trumps were powered by the same thing that powered the Black Trump, something which he called the Universal Trump Power. But Murlas had said that this power was the same thing as the Blue Macaroni which Caine or the person claiming to be Caine had used to transport him through Shadow. And the Blue Macaroni's true name was the Nexus, as the real Caine had told me. And Murlas had been theorizing about the possibilities of using the Nexus as a means for inter-reality travel. The fact that he had seen Lisa and Martin jump through a Blue Macaroni, only to see them again in the other Amber reality, should be proof enough of that, I guess. Murlas had also reasoned that Lisa had to be a member of the other Family, the one from the Black Unicorn Amber, since she had been able to use the other Jewel of Judgement. This didn't have to be true, though, since he himself had also managed to get initiated in the thing, thus being able to withstand the influences of the alien Pattern.

     So where did that leave us? That remark from Lisa's ghost about Algo taking her place was still bothering me. Suddenly I remembered something Adrian had been wondering about, something about the effects of a different Pattern on mere Shadow dwellers. Let's rephrase the question: what effects would a different Pattern have on someone who doesn't have any Pattern at all? The damage done to Martin and Deirdre all seemed to stem from the conflict between the two different Patterns, so would that mean that someone without Pattern would be safe, no matter where he was? This suddenly seemed to be very important. If it were true, then Lisa's ghost might have been telling the literal truth: she and Algo might have switched or might have been forced to switch places. Not within one reality, but between two different realities! Scary thought! Who would have done such a thing? And why? Might this somehow be connected with the attempt on Algo's life? Could it have been Lisa, trying to take revenge on my cousin? But then, if this were all true, he wasn't really my cousin, was he?

     Aaargh! Too many questions! Okay, okay, okay. Let's just calm down, shall we? As for now it's only a theory. Let's wait and see how much of it will prove to be true...

     Well, so much for three of the seven, no eight visions. I didn't know what to make of the one with Aunt Fiona and Aunt Flora playing croquet with the heads. It raised a few more questions, though. If my whole theory about Algo and Lisa had any truth in it, then Flora must know more about it. And with regard to Vincent, we still didn't know what had happened to him, back in Angel City. Fiona had told us he was alright, but I wonder...

     As for the more personal visions, it was hard to judge their value, since I was aware that Tir-na Nog'th somehow uses your own feelings, including fears and prejudices, to shape all of its ghosts. The near-encounter with Vialle, Suzanne and the little Diana was a good example of such a case, showing me a present that might have been, had Caine not interfered in my personal affairs. It was one of the things Aunt Fiona had warned me about with reference to the ghost city. It hurt to think of that vision, and I knew that it would have hurt even more if I had confronted them. There is just no way to change what has passed and thinking about it is only self-torment.

     My final encounter with Diana and Deirdre didn't really tell me very much, except for showing something of my own feelings. Yes, I did feel Diana wasn't at home in Amber, that she should be protected, that I ought to take her away from here. But was that the right thing to do? I didn't know. And yes, I was more than a little apprehensive about my Mother, about how she would feel towards me, of having my image of her shattered by the cruel reality. Was that right, though? Again, I didn't know...

     The blue assailant Deirdre had turned into was even more an enigma. I knew that Tir-na Nog'th had some strange abilities, but the fact that he had kept on attacking me even after we had broken contact was more than weird. It might have something to do with some basic fears of mine, I guess, or then again it might have some other meaning. Sigh. Anyone's guess is as good as mine.

     My encounter with Murlas had also been coloured by my own feelings, I presume. Or more precisely, by my recent discovery of his shape shifting abilities. I guess I really found them to be very unnerving. Something about the very idea of changing your own appearance was plainly repulsive to me. And his evasiveness in our short conversation had just been a really exaggerated version of the real thing. Still, I wondered what his connections with those orange cultists were. There wasn't much to go on, but those cultists were connected with Aradia, who in turn had some connections with Aunt Sand, who had been very interested in Murlas and his father. And there was some sort of link between her and Azrain, although like all the links mentioned earlier it was very vague.

     Hmm. Azrain. I was very surprised and even a bit relieved that he had shown no signs of being out for revenge. I realised that I did feel a bit guilty about his death. Still, it had been the only possible course open to me. He had only wanted to give me that message, though, that Murlas, his brother, now was the heir. The heir of what? And had he meant brother in the literal sense of the word? Or were they more like brothers to a certain cause? If so, what cause? Aaargh again! Too many questions, not enough answers. It might be a good idea, however, to give Azrain's message to Murlas and see how he would react. Maybe that would tell me something more...

     It was still very early in the morning when we stabled our horses, so I decided that there was enough time for me to get a few hours of sleep. I needed it; the visit to the silver city had been more taxing than I had imagined, both physically and spiritually. I thanked Uncle Corwin once again for his help, and he smiled as if to say I could ask such things of him anytime. I smiled in return.

     Back in my room I found two things waiting for me. The first was a note from Adrian, saying that he had left Amber on some personal business and that he would be reachable by Trump. The other was a new addition to my Trump deck: Alexander's card. I studied it for a few moments before tucking it away. There was unfinished business between us, or rather between our two creatures. It could wait, though, especially since he seemed to have chosen to stay away from Amber for a while. However, that didn't mean that I was glad not to see him here. The fact that I was on rather good terms with his brother didn't mean that I shared Adrian's dislike for him. As a matter of fact, other than that stuff between Wylde and Thena I had no special reasons to either like or dislike Alexander. He always seemed a bit detached to me, as if he didn't really want anyone to be able to have any really strong emotions towards him. Hmm, it might be a good strategy here in Amber, but I guess it was far too late for me to adopt it. Most people had already made up their minds about what they thought of me anyway...

     I slept for an hour or three and awoke in time to meet most of my relatives at breakfast. Here I learned a few more things about the attack on the castle. Uncle Benedict had returned to Amber and he was more than a little miffed that no one had seen fit to Trump him while the attack was in full progress. He was currently very busy setting up a new duty-roster for the Royal Guard and finding replacements for the deceased and the wounded.

     The big news, however, was the identity of the Chaos mage that had been in combat with Aunt Fiona: rumour had it that it had been none other than Dara, mother of Merlin, the but recently crowned King of Chaos! This naturally put an even bigger strain on the relations between them and us. Maybe it was time for yet another ambassadorial mission to the Courts.

     Of course Random wanted to hear my side of the story too, so I briefly told him everything that had happened. Fiona seemed to regret Azrain's death a little, but Random agreed with my decision that Azrain dead was better than Azrain on the loose. The fact that Murlas was a shape shifter had already become quite the topic; some relatives weren't very much surprised, seeing as how his mother came from Chaos and all, while others didn't feel that it was proper for a Lord of Amber to change his appearance. I learned that Murlas was slowly recovering from his wound in the Royal Infirmary. When he was first taken there, Gerard had made yet another startling discovery: Murlas had a perfectly normal right hand, which he had been hiding under a false hook. Everybody was quite surprised about that, the prevailing theory being that he must have hidden out in some fast-time Shadow to regenerate it. Meanwhile I was a bit unnerved by the news, recalling the ghost of Murlas that I had met in Tir-na Nog'th. He had had two hands... So the city had somehow shown me the truth there. Maybe it had also shown be the truth about that connection between Murlas and the orange cultists...

     After dinner I made a round of visits to several people I wanted to check up on. First on the list was Diana. Her feelings at seeing me again were rather mixed, just as I realised were mine. On the one hand she was glad too see me, on the other she had also been avoiding me a bit. The problem was that while love ruled all of our feelings when we were together, as soon as we were apart doubt began to raise its ugly head. Things were going to fast for her: her image of Caine had been brutally shattered, while at the same time her image of me had become rather muddled. All of this left her very much depressed.

     "Would you like to go away from here?" I asked her, recalling last night's visions. She hesitated.

     "Perhaps... Maybe it would be good for me to spend some time on my own somewhere... That is, if you don't mind?"

     "If you think you really need to, I don't mind," I replied. But of course I did. I didn't want to see her take off on her own just yet. I still felt that she was too trusting, she was still too easy a prey for any relative with ill intentions. However, as painful as the realisation was to me, I also knew that I would have to let her go someday. I didn't want it to be soon, though...

     "Well, I haven't made up my mind yet," Diana said.

     "Tell you what, while you're still thinking about it, why don't you go and visit my Father. My Uncle Jaro, his younger brother, got wounded very badly in the attack, and I don't know if anyone thought of sending word to him." She seemed to like the idea, a faint smile forming around her lips, a small spark of her usual fire lighting in her eyes.

     "Yes, seeing your Father... My Grandfather... That would be nice..." She smiled at me and I felt glad that I had at least been able to lift her spirits, even if it were for just a little while. We talked for a little while longer, all the time skirting around the pitfalls we both knew were there. As I said goodbye I kissed her passionately, feeling the passion in her stir to meet with my own. Damn! If only we could do without those passions, life would be a lot easier. A lot more boring too, I guess.

     My next stop was another hard one: Uncle Jaro. I found him in one of the rooms that had been hastily made to serve as an infirmary, surrounded by wounded comrades. He would be spending quite some time in bed, the doctors assured me, but his constitution was one of the strongest and there was no doubt in their minds that in time he would be perfectly alright again. He looked a little old and frail, lying there pale faced among the spotless white sheets. Somehow he didn't remind me at all of the strong, energetic man who had so often come to visit me when I was young, always bringing presents or, even better, stories from the castle up on the mountain. As soon as he saw me, though, his face split in a wide grin, proving to me that he was still the same old Uncle Jaro. I spent about an hour sitting beside his bed, and this time I was the one who had to tell the story. At first I was a bit hesitant, since I still felt rather guilty at having left him instead of immediately tending his wounds when his condition might have been critical, but when I finally reached that point in my story I sensed that he really understood my feelings. He gave me an encouraging smile and I managed to give him one in return. Through all of his years of service to the Crown he must have got a bit used to making this kind of split-second decisions in the middle of a battle, but I was glad and more than a bit thankful that he could still remember what it felt like to have to make them for the fist time. Heartened by his understanding I continued my story right to its climactic ending. To my surprise I saw that Uncle Jaro actually felt some pride when I told him about that final combat. Well, that certainly made my day, a tough, old veteran like Jaro Harolan being proud of a young, inexperienced puppy like me. It blew away the last traces of my guilt like a soft, spring breeze blows away the last remaining dead leaves of winter.

     I left Uncle Jaro in a better mood than I had been in, well, since my return from Tir-na Nog'th, I guess , and I almost put off my next visit because of that. But no, Murlas was probably waiting for me to finally show up, and besides, I had a message to give to him. I found him in the Royal Infirmary, in the company of the still unconscious bodies of Deirdre and Martin. Uncle Gerard, who acts as the Family Physician most of the time, remarked upon Martin's worsened condition, but he also said that my Mother was actually improving. I sensed something of a told-you-so in his voice, as if it were prove that we shouldn't mess with those two and just let them heal themselves. I glanced at my Mother as I walked towards my cousin's bed. She looked a little more peaceful, I guess. I was ashamed to find that I didn't know whether I really liked the idea of her recovering so quickly. That's just those fears from Tir-na Nog'th playing up again, I told myself. If only I had the good sense to listen to myself more often.

     "Ah, Dorian," Murlas said, his usual overpolite smile firmly in place, "I hear you managed to finish the job. Splendid, splendid." I glanced at both his hands, which he had folded above the covers. So the rumours and last night's vision were true.

     "Well," I said, "at the time there didn't seem to be any other course open to me."

     "You know," he said, "I have been thinking. You must realise that I have had a lot of time to think, lying here. And I came up with one question which I wanted to ask you: who were aware of the fact that Caine was going to return to Amber?"

     "You mean beforehand?"

     "Yes." He was looking at me expectantly.

     "Well, let me see... There's just you, me and Diana, I guess."

     "No, there was someone else." His voice cut like a blade, no, more like a razor-sharp scalpel. "Someone who was not told by Caine of his return. Someone whom Caine would not have liked this information to be given to. Someone who was surprisingly well informed." Hmm, well, if Murlas wasn't Caine's son after all, he must certainly be related to someone like Torquemada.

     "And who might this someone that you're talking about be?" I asked as calmly as possible. I wasn't about to let him walk all over me just on the strenght of a few suspicions he might be harbouring.

     "It is someone from the Courts," he replied. "I do not know precisely who, but I do know that it certainly is no friend of Caine's." The scalpel was still there I sensed, ready to cut me apart should I falter but for the tiniest moment. I decided to counter his implied accusations directly.

     "And you have reason to believe that I am the one who has been in contact with that certain someone." It wasn't a question. Let's just see what he would do if I accused him of making unjustfied accusations.

     "Well, somebody must have warned that certain someone, mustn't he? The way I see it there are two options available: either I try to find out who did it, or I let Caine do it. Which do you prefer?"

     I regarded him for a moment while I tried to find a way out of this mess. Why did he think someone from the Courts was connected with this? He must have some information I didn't have, for I couldn't see any such connections. I didn't like his veiled threat, though, especially since they seemed to be completely unfounded. Okay, if I was required to make a certain sign of my sincerity, then so be it. But I wouldn't forget about this...

     "I told you once, and I'll tell you once again: I don't know who you're talking about. And I'm prepared to give my word that you're the only one I told about Caine's imminent return." He studied me for a moment and then nodded; apparently he had accepted my defense. He'd better!

     "Might Diana have called someone before you returned?" he asked. I couldn't stop the laugh escaping from my throat. Hah! Apparently his information wasn't all that clear if he was prepared to suspect someone like Diana. Murlas just continued without betraying any reaction to my open scorn.

     "Could there have been any other way you can think of in which someone might have received that information?" I started to refute this, but a sudden thought held me back. There had been someone else there who could have guessed that Caine would be returning to Amber, and there was certainly no love lost between the two of them.

     "Well...," I began, "Come to think of it, there was someone who knew that Caine was still alive." That got his attention.

     "Who are you talking about?"

     "Sand..." His eyes narrowed to slits.

     "What do you know about her?" he asked.

     "Well, for starters, she and Caine don't seem to get along very well."

     "Yes, but then is there anyone who does get along with Sand?"

     "I don't know. Anyway, remember when we first met her and she took me for a stroll? You must have guessed that she did that because she wanted to talk to me in private. Somehow she had foreseen that I was going to meet that one girl whose Trump she showed us, the one with the long brown hair, and when I did she wanted me to help this girl Aradia in any way I could. I checked with her whether this would mean working against Amber in some way, but she assured me that it had nothing to do with this place. In return for my help she would help me with some personal stuff concerning my mother. 

     "I actually forgot about this deal for some time, until I finally came across Aradia while I was hellriding. To make a long story short, I managed to save her from the trouble she was in and get her to Sand, who then proceeded to enlighten me about certain facts, like Diana being my daughter and Caine planning to sacrifice her. Sand led me to Caine's castle and provided me with a way in. Once we were inside she let me handle matters, and I think you know the rest."

     Okay, I knew that he didn't, but this was all he needed to know as far as I was concerned. He studied me for a while in silence, probably trying to gauge from my expression how much and what I was holding back, and hopefully failing in those efforts.

     "Did you ever learn the names of the other people on Sand's Trumps?" he suddenly asked. I shook my head.

     "No, I still don't know who the other two are and I'm sorry to say that I didn't really get a chance to inquire after them." He simply nodded once as if that was the answer he had expected me to give and resumed his silence. What I would give to know what he was thinking about right then! But then that was probably the same thing he was thinking.

     "You know, I'm wondering...," I began after a minute or two.

     "About what?" he asked.

     "Azrain. How much do we know about him anyway?"

     "We know that Sand has his Trump, that he had a very strong mind, that he was a shape shifter, and that he is now dead." Hmm, I hadn't known about that shape shifting part, but it wasn't all that surprising. Must have been something Murlas had found out when he and Azrain had switched bodies.

     "And we know that he had some ties with the Courts," I added.

     "He probably had, yes. I think that that might yet cause us some problems in the future."

     "Is there any indication that we know of of any link between Azrain and Martin?"

     "No, not that I know of. To the best of my knowledge Azrain didn't have anything to do with any Black Trumps or alternative Jewels or anything like that. Unless of course he too came from that other Amber..."

     "I met him last night," I said. "Azrain, that is. In Tir-na Nog'th."

     "You went up to Tir-na Nog'th?" Murlas said a bit surprised. "Did he also have a hook when you met him?"

     "No, he didn't...," I began, then stopped. What was he talking about? "What do you mean? Did you also visit Tir-na Nog'th?"

     "Yes," he replied smiling. I was puzzled. When had he done that? No, I decided that I was not going to ask him. If I did and he would tell me, I would feel obliged to tell him more of my trip and I didn't want to do that, I only wanted to give him Azrain's message and see how he would react. He proved to be very sceptical about the whole thing.

     "It is of course a possibility," he acceded, "but one should not forget that what Tir-na Nog'th shows us is not always the truth. I am curious, however, how you managed to receive this message."

     "Azrain just told me, there's nothing special about it."

     "That still doesn't explain how you were able to hear him."

     "Well, okay, I had Grayswandir on loan from Uncle Corwin."

     "Oh... And when you have Grayswandir they talk to you?"

     "Yes, they do that." I saw that he didn't know what difference the sword made up there and I smiled. Let him be the one to puzzle about something for a change.

     "Did Azrain say anything else besides that message?" he resumed.

     "No, and I must say that I don't know what to make of it either. Still, I thought it was something you would like to know."

     "Yes, I greatly appreciate it. Perhaps there is something that I can do for you?"

     "Now that you mention it, I am very interested in learning more about that killer method of yours. What the hell was that?"

     "Who else knows of this?" he asked warily.

     "Oh, by now several of the others, I guess." He frowned.

     "It was just an item I had found somewhere, and now I have used it."

     "And it was powered by the Logrus," I added. He frowned again.

     "Yes, it was powered by the Logrus, that is correct." Did I say that his ghost was harder to talk to? I hereby retract those words. Murlas would always be an unparallelled cagey bastard!

     "I could ask you where you found such a rare item," I said, "but I guess that you wouldn't want to answer that."

     "No," he replied, "I do not think it is all that important for you to know any of those details." He sent me a cold smile and I returned it; we knew where we stood with each other. After this we made some polite conversation. I learned that it would be a couple of days before he would be on his feet again, which would still be much quicker than I had expected having seen the wound. Apparently his shape shifting abilities made the difference here: like I had seen before, his body actually worked very hard on repairing itself. Maybe there were some advantages to this power after all...

     For the remainder of the day I took it pretty easy, reading some book on poetry I had picked up in the library. Nobody came round to see me, which was alright by me. You simply can't spend every hour of the day having intense conversations with your relatives, now can you? However, it seemed that I hadn't yet filled my quota for the day, for at dinner, which was a quite informal affair, Aunt Fiona reminded me that we still needed to have a little talk. So about an hour later I found myself seated in her studio with a cup of tea, quite a nice change from all that wine I had been drinking lately. I guess I was rather reluctant to start the conversation, feeling a little withdrawn and still trying to come to terms with everything that had been happening, so Fiona was the one to break the ice.

     "I hear you've been screwing around with power lately," she said. I reddened as she smiled at me with a twinkle in her eye. It's so damn hard to keep things from her! Her casual remark brought back all the problems I had faced and those I still had to face. My expression darkened.

     "And I can see you've got some trouble dealing with it all," Fiona continued.

     "Well, yes," I replied, "it isn't particularly easy..."

     "And there are a lot of other things involved as well. I wonder what the consequences for you will be in the long run. Most of the time there is a price to be paid, and I can very well imagine that this wasn't something you were altogether prepared for. But then who would be? Tell me, how do you feel?"

     "Physically I'm fine, but mentally I'm all messed up. You know, I went to visit Tir-na Nog'th last night."

     "Did it give you any new insights?" she asked, frowning slightly.

     "I'm not sure. It may have only strengthened the doubts that were already there." I recounted my final encounter there, with Diana changing into Deirdre changing into one of those attackers. Fiona was very attentive, but when I was finished she remained silent, as if she were waiting for me to continue.

     "I always used to think that it would be a good thing to have my Mother with me once again," I ventured, "but now I'm not so sure anymore. She just doesn't seem to be the person I'd thought she would be."

     "The problem is that you're afraid of her," Fi said thoughtfully. "Your fears always play a big role in what you get to see up there. I guess it's at least partially our fault as well. All this time we've been presuming Deirdre to be dead, and it's very hard to present a faithful image of the deceased to people who have never known them. We all tend to gloss over the traits that just weren't so nice. The truth, as you have already found out to a certain extent, is that Deirdre was never a saint, although we, or at least some of us, may have presented her as such. She's one of us, one of the Family, and like all of us she's got her virtues and her vices. Now one of her traits seems to have cropped up in you as well, and it may be a bigger influence on your life than is desirable. Maybe we should have warned you about this earlier, but some of us were hoping that this wouldn't be something that was going to recur in Deirdre's offspring." I realised that she was talking about the sexual aspect of my recent adventures.

     "The trouble with your mother was that she had not only somehow inherited certain characteristic traits from Oberon, but these traits also seemed to be intensified even more in her than in our father. Each and every one of us has gone through a certain period in his or her life when we felt the need to experiment, to search for pleasure in all its shapes and forms. This also happened to your mother, but unfortunately she seemed to have lost control. It's a bit difficult to explain, but it might help if you look at it this way: we all have certain passions, but most of us manage to control them. In the case of your mother it's the other way around: the passion controls her." She sighed. "As you can understand this caused some strains on her relationships with some of her relatives."

     "I see," I said. "And now I'm falling into the same trap, aren't I?"

     "I think you must find a way to control your passions," she replied with a serious expression. "I know it will be very hard on both you and Diana, but you've got to try. It's clear that she's got the same heritage." She looked a bit pensively for a moment before she continued. "I know that it is none of my business, but if I may give you a bit of friendly advice: do not think for a moment that you will find this control over your passions in your current relationship with her. But I guess that you had already realised that yourself," she added when she saw my pained expression. "I don't want to condemn anyone's behaviour here, not yours and not Deirdre's, but I just feel that having no control is a very bad thing. I'm not saying that it isn't possible to take that road and still be happy. Deirdre did and I guess she is..."

     "Well, I don't know," I said. "If I can be very frank here: I only saw my Mother for a very short while, but what I saw I really didn't like, and I'm very sure that I don't want to become like her!"

     "Maybe you should reserve your judgment of her until you get to know her better. I think it's almost impossible for her to live up to the perfect, shining image you have of her, the image we have helped to create. She's got her good sides too, but you've got to be willing to see them." Fiona was really telling the truth about not judging anyone, I sensed, but she did seem to be fascinated with Deirdre's case, with my Mother's power and the way she dealt with it. Now that we were talking so openly about her, though, there was something else I wanted to know.

     "What about Uncle Corwin?" I asked. "He seems to entertain an even more shining image of my Mother than I do."

     "Yes, it's a very peculiar case, that of Corwin and Deirdre," she said with a sigh. "Very peculiar indeed. Corwin seems to be very much in love with her, but as you know Oberon was dead set against relationships between any of his children. Of course Corwin tried to resist it, because of the implications it would have. Deirdre on the other hand tried to make use of it. I don't know whether you've realised it or not, but Corwin can be very unpractical at times. He's always got these fits of excessive chivalry, combined with all kinds of pathetic gestures. Sometimes I think that he must have been enjoying it all as if it were one big tragedy that was being performed just for his amusement. He simply worshipped Deirdre, with as much stirring passion and as much pathos as possible. The problem is that he suffers a bit from the so-called Madonna-whore complex. That is to say that if Deirdre had ever given in to his avances, he would very soon have grown tired of her. She had of course realised this, that's why she maintained their purely platonic relationship. As a result her behaviour towards him was very different from her behaviour towards the rest of us. Corwin just got to see a totally different side of her than we did. Whether or not he was really blind to the truth I don't know, but he always behaved as if he was. I don't want to sound critisizing, but Corwin always seemed to wallow in his feelings. Like I said, he's sometimes just not very practical. But never make the mistake of underestimating him: he's still an Amberite like the rest of us. We always presumed that he must have known the truth about your mother, but I guess nobody really told him, so if he didn't know then, he still won't know by now. Deirdre's relationship with Caine was very different, of course. Caine can be very cold and distant, even a bit aloof at times, and I only later realised that that was just what fascinated her. Unlike Corwin, he never seemed to be impressed by, or even interested in her. I presume it developed into something of a contest between them, which in the end was won by Deirdre. Caine just had to knuckle under. You have to realise, however, that this isn't common knowledge."

     "That much was already clear to me. Who are aware of their... special relationship?"

     "Well, they were relatively young when this all got started. It must have been around the time when Clarissa was still Queen in Amber. All the problems the children of Faiella had in their youth are pretty much unknown among the younger generations. Benedict might know about it, but I don't think he does. He doesn't have an eye for such matters. Bleys might also know." I guess that he would, since Fiona herself knew so much about this business.

     "In any case," she continued, "Corwin and Caine never hit it off, quite understandably I'd say. Their characters tend to clash and this matter with your mother also contributed to it. I can see that all of this isn't very easy on you."

     "No, it isn't. You are right, though: I am afraid. However, it isn't Deirdre's true character that scares me, it's more the claim she can lay on Diana and me as her direct descendants."

     "I'm not so sure she will lay such a claim. Who knows, it might not be so bad. Her relationships with Corwin and Caine aren't particularly normal, I grant you that, but on the whole she was always rather withdrawn and never really meddlesome. Maybe you should just give her a chance. None of us are perfect, you know. And even if you had had any other Amberite for a parent, it wouldn't have made any difference: you still would have had problems of one kind or another."

     "I guess you're right," I sighed. "Perhaps I'm just overreacting."

     "Try to get a grip on your life," Fi urged me. "Try to gain control, it is very important. That's another reason why I wanted to have this conversation: you seem to have a natural affinity for power, the ways of the spirit. That is good, since it will provide you with a basis for gaining that control. It should be clear by now that of the new generation you and Murlas are the ones with the most potential in the brain department." I smiled.

     "Well, we just seem to keep running into each other."

     "I don't know whether he will be able to pull through. I feel he needs a different attitude if he's going to survive. His control problems are of an entirely different kind. And whether or not you can trust him... But then, who can you trust?" She smiled as she said this.

     "I think I've already made up my mind about cousin Murlas," I said. "I can't trust him, but we are able to collaborate if need be. I guess our recent little escapade proves that." I frowned then, remembering Fiona's displeasure at me having killed Azrain. "You know, I really saw no other way out. I had to kill him. It was either him or me."

     "I assume that you're right," she said.

     "It's hard, though," I plowed on. "In hindsight things are not always so clear and you begin to doubt the wisdom of your actions."

     "You shouldn't doubt," she interjected firmly. "Just evaluate: if you were faced again with the same problem, would your decision then be any different?"

     "I don't know... It might... But then you never know whether the outcome will be any better or worse, do you?"

     "Look, I can't deny that I would have liked for Azrain to have remained alive, because there was still so much to learn from him. I have never before encountered anyone who handled power in the same way as he did. Nevertheless, I respect your decision. You did what you thought you had to do, and who am I to resent that?"

     "How much did you find out about Azrain?" I asked curiously.

     "Not enough, I fear. What I do know is that he somehow acted like a kind of magnet for all kinds of power. Power just came naturally to him, I guess. Look, we use the Pattern as our power-base, while the people in the Courts use the Logrus, but Azrain didn't have any one power-base: he could use all powers directly without being initiated in any of them. As an example of his power, I think that he might have been able to summon the Primal Chaos, a feat for which Logrus masters require a great many, many years of study and practice. He just knew how to do that instinctively."

     "Sounds like a very dangerous person," I said. For the very first time I really felt glad that I had killed him when I had the chance.

     "Yes, he was, or at least he could have been. Azrain is a very clear example of someone who was not in control himself, but instead was being controlled."

     "Considering the nature of his would-be rescuers I'd guess he hailed from the Courts."

     "Yes, I agree. I get the feeling that Azrain was in fact an experiment that got completely out of hand. They still wanted to retrieve him, though."

     "I met him in Tir-na Nog'th last night. He gave me a message for Murlas, who he claimed was his brother. The message said that Murlas was the heir now that he was dead."

     "Hmm, well, you have to be very careful with interpreting those visions. Sometimes they show you the literal truth and sometimes they don't. They might really be brothers, which would mean that Murlas has the same mother as Azrain. Then again the message could also be interpreted figuratively, in which case it might mean that Murlas is about to develop the same powers as Azrain had, or that he might do so in the near future. I must say that it's very interesting." Yeah, sure, only don't blame me for hoping that the vision was literally and not figuratively true. I didn't relish the idea of someone like Murlas running around with that kind of power.

     "There appear to be all kinds of different links and connections here," I said.

     "I'll find out the truth of all of this," she said determinedly. "I intent to see to that personally! Somebody simply has to do something about this. I mean, having someone like Dara invade the castle just like that is perfectly unacceptable. Still, before I go off on my fact-finding mission I'd like to do a few experiments with you, you know, just run a few tests to see how far you are in your control over the Pattern. I couldn't help but notice that you're developing much faster than usual, which is all the more peculiar seeing that you have had only limited formal training in the matter, apart from the usual initial explanations that is."

     "Okay, I'm interested, but before we start with that there is something else I'd like to talk about: Sand." Her eyes narrowed to slits. Hmm, is it me or is that everyone's reaction when I mention that name?

     "Look," I said, "I know she's not very well-liked around here, and I must admit that I'm not all that fond of her myself, but can we at least talk about her? I mean, she is somehow connected to some of the things that have been going on, like my business with Caine for instance. And she was very interested in Murlas when we first met her, plus the fact that she had Trumps for Azrain and Aradia and those other two people. I'd say there is enough here that requires some further study, wouldn't you?" She relaxed a bit. Phew, glad too! I don't like Aunt Fiona's temper very much, thank you.

     "You're right," she said, "Sand plays a part in all of this, but it’s a shady one and as yet it is unclear whose side she's on. Those four Trumps she showed you are intriguing, though: Azrain, Aradia, that young man with the sad expression and Tirga of Ysarn."

     "So that's who she is, is she? Hmm, another Ysarn. You know, I remember thinking that she and Azrain looked quite a bit alike."

     "How much do you know about the House Ysarn?"

     "Not much, except for the rumour that Murlas's mother was supposed to be one Rega of Ysarn."

     "Well, we're looking into that rumour to see if it's true. The House Ysarn is one of the major Houses of the Courts of Chaos. They've always had very close ties with the more conservative Houses of the Courts, like House Helgram and House Hendrake. Like I said Sand's role in this is still unclear, but I'm going to find out."

     "For what it's worth, she gave me her Trump, and since it seems that they are a bit rare you might want to copy it."

     "Yes, Dad ordered them all to be destroyed when he sent her and her brother Delwin into exile. Dad could also be very unpractical at times, blinded by his anger. Still, you shouldn't worry about it; not everyone tended to obey Oberon in these matters." From her smile I inferred that there might be a lot more of Sand's Trumps laying around than was commonly believed. It reminded me of my suspicions that she was regularly in contact with someone from Amber.

     "That's very probable," Fiona said. I guess I let my frustration show a little too plainly, for she immediately tried to reassure me by saying: "You'll learn how to do this too, you know. It isn't telepathy or anything like that."

     "Well, I guess," I mumbled. I still didn't like it, though!

     After this conversation Fiona first made me tell her everything I had learned to do with the Pattern. When I told her of how I had used the Pattern in my own Trump to transport myself she was a bit miffed.

     "You don't want to aquire the wrong habits, now do you?" she said. Apparently it should be possible to do it without any such help, just by bringing the Pattern to mind. At first I thought it to be very difficult, but when she showed me how to do it I found that it was really not that much of a problem. Fiona taught me how to use the Pattern lens to see into other Shadows, a sort of travelling while physically staying in the same place. It wasn't much use for finding specific things in Shadow I realised, but it was pretty handy to look in on places you were already familiar with. The main problem was, though, that while doing this I constantly had to keep concentrating on the Pattern, which in itself is a very exhausting exercise. At the very end of the day Fiona ran a few more tests on me, of which the purpose was not always clear to me. Ah well, I guess she'd know what she was doing.

     The next day I started off with an hour of physical exercises. It seemed like a good idea, considering both the attack on the castle and Fiona's lessons, to get into a better shape. I spent the rest of the day in Fiona's company again; she wanted to teach me some more things and she didn't want to put off her other business for too long. Well, I learned a lot that day. For instance, she showed me more on how to transport myself and how to bring things to me by walking the Pattern in my mind. There were a lot of other things, minor things that all sprang from that heightened control over the Pattern. Although it was all very intriguing, I found it also rather exhausting. The exercises didn't seem to put quite so much strain on Fiona, but then she was also quite a bit stronger, spiritually, than I was. At the end of the day, when my weariness was really showing, she told me not to worry about it. I was still rather young and I was making remarkable progress for someone my age. She even dared say that in some areas of study I might already be further than some of the Elders. High praise from someone like Aunt Fi!

     I didn't do much else that day but practice, eat and sleep. The next day I could take it a little easier, though, since Fiona had left for parts unknown and I was my own taskmaster again. Well, I resolved to keep on practicing and exercising, but I also found some time to check up on Diana. Her visit to my father had only lightened her mood a little bit it seemed. She had told him that she was his granddaughter, without of course telling him too much of what had happened. Dad was very disappointed that I had not come with her, and Diana also noticed that he again had some doubts about the whole Family and the fact that he had told me about my heritage, although he would never say so out loud of course. The one thing I did curse myself for was that no one, including myself, had taken the time and the effort to inform Dad of Deirdre's return. Damn, damn! I should have sent word, I know, I know! I had simply expected that someone else would have done so by now. Well, nothing to be done about it. I decided that I'd better see Dad myself really soon and apologize for my negligence.

     Diana told me that she and Dad had visited both Uncle Jaro and Deirdre (the latter with special permission from Gerard). She talked about those visits with a special kind of fondness in her voice and I sensed that she valued those other family ties very highly. I could understand that all too well. Father and Uncle Jaro at least are a bit more ordinary and reliable than any of our other relatives.

     We kept on talking for quite some time, but no matter what we tried our conversation remained rather awkward, loaded with all our unspoken doubts and fears. At long last I tried to make a start at discussing these feelings by bringing up Fiona's remarks on the importance of control. However, this only had an adversative effect on Diana.

     "Importance of control!" she said emotionally. "How important are feelings then?" I tried to calm her down.

     "They are very important," I said, "but..."

     "Control is very important as well," she interjected sharply. She looked at me with an accusatory expression as if I had just betrayed all she believed. "What do you want me to say?" she demanded. "What do you want us to do?" Damn, those were my lines...

     "I don't know," I said after a moment. "What do you want to do? Not taking me into account, that is." She hesitated for a minute or two.

     "I'm not sure," she said. "I have talked with Corwin and he suggested that I'd spent some time travelling through Shadow, alone, without any Family interference. He told me about some of the things he had done when he was younger and I must admit that the thought is rather appealing to me. It's just that I don't know whether this is the right time to leave Amber. There are so many things happening at the moment. Maybe I'll be needed here. And of course I don't really want to leave you... But then again, I don't know, maybe I do..."

     "Well, it might be a good idea...," I began.

     "You mean to get away...?" she asked. She looked a bit hurt by my quick concession to let her go.

     "... From Amber," I interjected. "Yes, you're right, there's a lot going on at the moment, but that also means that you don't really get a chance for some soul searching here. You have to get to know yourself, to find out what it is that you really want from life."

     "I want to be useful," she replied. "I want to do something that makes a difference, one way or the other. In the place where I grew up loyalty and one's family are the most important things, and that's still the way I feel about it. Perhaps it's better to set aside my personal feelings for the greater good. I mean, how can I go out riding my horse somewhere in Shadow when another invasion might be on its way right now?"

     "I understand how you feel, I really do. You have to consider this, though: if I had not set aside all other things to start looking for Suzanne, I might have been too late to save you. You might have been dead by now. I share something of your sense of duty, but I think that sometimes personal interests outweigh the greater good."

     "I guess that's true," she sighed, "but it still doesn't feel right to take off and leave everything behind me."

     "You never do," I replied ruefully.

     "I know, I know, you can't leave anything behind. But still..."

     "I understand how you feel. Like I said, I share something of that sense of duty of yours. I guess it runs a little in our family. I just think that you should take care not to lose yourself in all these general interests."

     "But does it really matter whether I try to resolve my problems here or somewhere off in Shadow?"

     "Yes, it does..." She looked at me with tears in her eyes.

     "Don't you want to see me anymore then?"

     "No, no, I do. Of course I do. You know I do. It's just that here you've got all your relatives looking over your shoulder." A bit hesitantly she nodded, looked away and dried her tears.

     "Look," I said, "whatever happens, I will always love you. Nothing can change that."

     "I know," she said.

     "I just don't know what's going to happen to us...," I added with a sigh.

     "You know," Diana resumed after a moment's silence, "when you first told me that I was your daughter, that you were my father, I thought: I don't want this, this can't be true. I thought that if we both would ignore the reality it would go away, but it keeps coming back and it gets harder and harder to ignore it. And now you are my father and my lover, but in some way you're also not my father and not my lover. I just don't know how to feel anymore."

     "We'll have to make a choice, sooner or later."

     "But is there a choice?" she demanded.

     "Oh, but there is," I replied. "There may not seem to be one, but there always is." Of course I realized that she was right in that there really wasn't that much of a choice. Yes, that realisation hurt, it was hard to face, but still it was true. However, I felt that Diana had to reach that decision on her own without being pressured into it by anybody else, least of all me. She wasn't ready yet, I could see that. That was okay, neither was I.

     I decided to try and steer the conversation away from these delicate subjects, feeling that we had given each other enough to reconsider as it was. Diana let me do so and pretty soon we were just making some pleasant conversation. There is a problem, though, when you both realize what you're doing, and that is that the tension that has been there before doesn't really go away. And neither did it with us; worse yet, it started changing instead, getting more physical and erotic in nature by the minute. I hesitated... Should I hold back? Or should I give in to the lure of our passion? In a way it was a lot like that first time, but this time, with Fiona's advice in mind, I tried to be firm and not let myself be swept off my feet by my emotions. It was hard, though, very hard. I tried to concentrate on something else, tried some meditation tricks that would help me to get some distance between the physical and the spiritual me. That worked, but then again it also didn't, because our problem was both physical and spiritual! Still, it allowed me to keep enough of a grip on myself to hang on and keep from doing anything I might regret later on.

     Diana was having the same difficulties: she was also trying to hold back, but she seemed to let herself easier be led by her emotions. I guess her sense of duty was the only other thing for her to channel her emotions into. Yet the fact that our love for each other was true and honest also seemed to help. Whatever would happen, I was sure that we both wanted to keep that feeling. I tried to reassure her of that by gently touching her, but that proved to be a mistake: with every touch our passion soared higher and higher. We both knew that if either of us were to give in, the other one would do so as well, which made us both feel responsible. We simply didn't want to bring about the other person's moment weakness. In the end I decided that it was better to leave, but not before we had arranged to go on a little sailing trip together the next day. Diana promised she would take care of everything and since she had already heard from Gerard that the weather would be excellent it looked as if it was going to be a very enjoyable trip.

     It was too, very relaxing and totally lacking all those tensions of the day before. Working together on the little boat in the bay reminded us both of that one sailing trip we had done with Caine, back when things had still been a lot clearer and easier. Was it only but a few weeks ago? It had to be more than that...

     The happier memories tended to predominate our day, though, and Diana remarked that they might even form some sort of basis to work from in the future. That friendship that had existed between us back when I was still searching for Suzanne, which I guess had never really gone away, remained part of some of her fondest memories, as well as of mine. Yes, it might indeed be a good idea to start all over again, just by being friends. Not that you can change the way you feel just like that, of course, but still...

     But like I said, we managed not to worry too much about those things on that day. We did talk, though. I told Diana something more of all the new things I was learning to do with Pattern, told her something more of my youth here in Amber and of my early travels in Shadow. She in return regaled me with stories of her youth and with descriptions of some of the combat and martial arts movements she had learned from Caine. At least he had taught her well in that respect. I even had the feeling that she might be able to beat me quite easily from all the things I heard.

     Caine remained a problem for Diana. He had not gone to see her since we had gotten back to Amber and she in turn understandably had no real desire to see him. I found myself wondering when the confrontation between the two of them would really come, and what Caine would do when it did come. Would he be his usual cool and distant self, or might Diana be able to find a little crack in his armour? Whatever, I would like to be present when it finally happened. If it would ever happen...

     That evening I went over to my Father's house, just like I had promised myself I would do. I apologized for not sending word to him earlier and explained that there had been just too much on my mind lately. He could understand that, but I felt that he still resented me a bit for not telling him earlier that Deirdre had returned. It was not so much that he was angry with me, but he himself didn't seem to know how to feel about her return. He just wasn't sure how she would react when she finally came to again, whether she would come back to him or not. He was also starting to remember the not so pleasant aspects of the woman he had loved so dearly. I tried to reassure him a bit, but it only made him try to prepare me for the fact that we might not become the happy little family he had always have me envision. Well, after everything I had learned about my Mother so far that didn't come as much of a surprise. Like he said, there is more than just a feeling two people share, and sometimes the other things are more important. I shouldn't forget that Mother left us largely because of reasons of safety. Being right in the middle of a not entirely ideal relationship myself I could very well understand what he was talking about. I couldn't tell him about it, of course, but I tried at least to give him the feeling that I knew how he felt.

     Of course our conversation turned to the raid on the castle and my role in the whole affair. I tried to tone it down a bit, but Dad had already talked with Uncle Jaro who had been full of pride at my behaviour. When Dad said something to that effect I couldn't help but blush. Made me feel like a little schoolboy who has just scored an A for an important test.

     Talking of Uncle Jaro, however, reminded me of something that had sprung to my mind and I mentioned it to my Father. Might it not be a good idea to have him transported here to rest and recuperate in the luxury of his brother's house? Dad didn't know how fast he had to talk me out of it. He explained that the Royal Guards have some peculiar notions of honour and such. At the moment all the guards who lay wounded in the infirmary were just considered to be off duty, but they felt that they were ready to be recalled to duty at any moment. If Uncle Jaro were to come to Dad's house to recover, he and all the other guards would see it as a sign of weakness: it would be as if he openly admitted to everybody that he wasn't fit for duty. Dad said that if I really wanted to do something for his brother, I'd better see if I could arrange some entertainment for him and his comrades in the infirmary.

     I liked this idea and the next day I immediately set to work on it. I went to see Droppa, who had already shown his good intentions by frequently visiting the infirmary to cheer up the men. He had a lot of spare time anyway, the Royals being in no mood for his jokes. Together we  arranged some things and that afternoon we had a little party up in the ward, complete with some dancing girls, friends of Droppa, and a royal supply of Bayle's Best, courtesy of yours truly. Well, to say that the men appreciated our effort would be a real understatement. I found that I was becoming rather popular with the guards; Uncle Jaro had been telling everybody about my killing of Azrain and now this party... It didn't matter that much to me, I was just glad that I was able to do something for the lot of them. They deserved it.

     The next couple of days were relatively quiet, compared to all the things that had been going on earlier. I rested, I practised, I spent some time in the company of friends, nothing important. The only news was that Deirdre's recovery seemed to be speeding up. In the light of the recent developments Random had decided to wait and see what happened, and it looked like we wouldn't have to wait for much longer. I still didn't know whether or not it was something to look forward to, though.

     Something like a week after the attack on the castle some people suddenly started returning to Amber. First there was Rhiane, who just Trumped into the great hall accompanied by a girl with long, blond hair, called Myrthe. Soon rumours were flying all over the place, for it seemed that in Myrthe Rhiane had once again discovered a new relative. Apparently she was a great-granddaughter of our late Uncle Osric, whom I had heard mentioned once or twice in some (very ancient) tales. The other side of her family was also quite interesting, though, being the House Wysternion from the Courts of Chaos. How the two ladies had met was unclear; there was some rumour that Rhiane had just disappeared from the Courts in the course of the ambassadorial mission there without anyone knowing where she had gone. However, another rumour held that she and her new friend had just been spending some time in a place where they wouldn't be disturbed. I for one didn't know what to think of it. Not that it bothered me in any way...

     Second to return was Boadice, who came riding in the day after Rhiane had shown up. I met her at lunch and she regaled me with her tales of the woe that had befallen her. Apparently she had been suspected of murdering a lady of the Courts, and although the Crown had declared her to be innocent of the deed, the lady's family, the House Chartin, was not convinced: they had decided to declare a vendetta against her. Understandably Boadice was none too happy about this, and neither were the Amberite ambassadors. Immediately after the vendetta had been declared Bleys had Trumped Boa off to some fast-time Shadow and had set up some kind of training program for her, with special emphasis on developing her physical skills. She told me some of the things she had gone through and I must say that I didn't envy her the experience. The more I learned about the Courts of Chaos, though, the more I got the feeling that I wanted to avoid having anything to do with that place.

     Finally there was Adrian who came back from wherever he had gone on that personal business. The surprising thing was that he was not alone: a rather pretty girl with long, brown hair rode with him on that monster of a horse of his. Her name was Narshila and he maintained that she was his new serving girl, but of course wild rumours started flying anyway, just as they had with Rhiane and Myrthe. Again, I didn't really care. I guess I would hear all about soon enough from Adrian himself. The other thing which I found surprising was his new haircut. He had apparently decided to do without his long blond curls from now on and I must say that he managed to look a little bit older this way. Perhaps he should grow a beard.

     Yet another day later I was interrupted while doing my exercises by a servant with an urgent summons from Random. The news was rather bleak: from the direction of Kashfa an army of some ten thousand pink golems was marching towards Amber! If it isn't raining Chaosites, it's pouring golems! On my way to the great dining hall I couldn't help but wonder why all these these people were so interested in conquering Amber. Couldn't they just go off and find some other place to fight their petty battles?

     The mood at the war council was pretty grim. Present were Random, Benedict, Julian, Gerard, Caine, Flora, Corwin, Myrthe, Murlas (fully recovered), Adrian, Diana, Boadice, Rhiane and of course myself. Llewella was in Rebma and Fiona was still off on her fact-finding mission about the Chaos attack. Nobody had the faintest idea where Bleys was.

     Random quickly explained that he had received a Trump call from Alexander, who had apparently set up his home in Rinaldo's kingdom Kashfa, telling him about the golems. Some of those buggers seemed to belong to Dalt, but they had somehow eluded his control and taken off on their own, only to be joined by even more of those pink monsters. Alexander, Dalt and Rinaldo would do their best to stop as many golems as possible, but theirs would probably be a futile effort. Images of three Canutes and a roaring pink sea sprang to mind.

     Apparently Random and Benedict had already decided on the best course of action. There would be two armies: one based in Amber under Benedict's command and the other in Arden with Julian as its commander. All the Golden Circle Shadows between Amber and the golems had also been warned, but Random warned us that we shouldn't expect too much help from them; most of those Shadows relied almost entirely on Amber for their defenses.

     A small third group would be formed with the intent of gathering as much information as possible about the attack: who was behind it, why they were attacking, whether or not the golems had any weak spots, and more stuff like that. This group would be led by Caine.

     I must admit that I didn't want to be part of any of those three groups, for varying reasons, but Random was very clear about one thing: everybody present would be required to help in one way or another. The entire fate of Amber was at stake here, so no chickening out! He would, however, leave all of us free to choose which group we would like to join. All but one that is, for there would also be a fourth group and at least one person would be required to participate in that one. He told us that there also seemed to be some sort of disturbances on a higher plane, which he called the Overshadow. This was the plain that lay between and served as a connection between the different realities. There were but a few people with the necessary skills and abilities to travel to that place and walk around without being harmed, and it seemed that cousin Murlas was the only one available.

     "Of course," Random quickly added, "we can't let him go alone." I smiled; no, sending Murlas alone on such a crucial mission would be very unwise to say the least. "There might be several people who are qualified to accompany him," Random continued. "I would have liked to consult Fiona in this matter, but she's not here, so... The problem is that whoever is going with Murlas must have some way of getting back if need be and they should be in some way protected against the forces of the Overshadow. As for travelling around in the Overshadow itself they'll be totally dependent on Murlas.

     "The first one who could go with him is Corwin. He should be relatively safe since he has been initiated in the Jewel of Judgement, and besides he's always got Grayswandir." I glanced over and saw Corwin nod in agreement.

     "The second possible candidate is Dorian," Random said. I looked up at him, not even bothering to hide my surprise. I felt a bit self-conscious as several people glanced curiously in my direction. "Fiona has told me about the progress you've made in your control over the forces of the Pattern. From what she's told me I'd say that you might be up to this. Of course I won't force you to go. You may choose any of the other three groups if you prefer."

     I considered my options for a few moments. As I've already said, I was not to thrilled about joining up in the armed forces of Amber and the idea of having to work closely together with Caine was also somewhat repugnant. However, this trip with Murlas and Corwin sounded as if it wouldn't be entirely without danger either. Still, it might be a good opportunity to learn something more about the things that occupied Murlas's time and I must also admit that I was a bit curious to see what this Overshadow business was all about. So I nodded to Random, just like Corwin had done, to indicate that there would be three of us travelling to that strange place.

     As for the others, Adrian surprised me by choosing to go with Caine's intelligence group. I wondered as to his reasons. Maybe we would have a chance to chat about it before we had to go on our way.

     Diana, of course, didn't choose Caine's group. Instead, she, Rhiane and Myrthe would ride to Arden with Uncle Julian. I had the feeling that she was in fact somewhat looking forward to the battle.

     When she was asked, Boadice said that she was a bit uncertain as to what to choose. She said that Adrian had ventured the notion that she might be from a different Amber altogether, which might help to explain why she just didn't seem to be able to locate her missing sister. At that point, however, Random interjected that there had been word from Yaslin. Apparently, Alexander had met Yaslin in some odd place somewhere in Shadow, but he had lost sight of her while finding his way back to Amber. So she didn't have to worry: her sister was in this reality after all. Random said that Boa would need to ask Alexander for the complete story, though, but that would be relatively easy now that we finally had a Trump of him. Boa immediately looked a lot happier and she agreed to go with Adrian and Caine.

     Random, Flora and Gerard would stay in Amber with Benedict. Random would sort of coordinate all our efforts, while Flora would join Benedict's archer regiment and Gerard would command the fleet (in case another threat would appear from over sea).

     After everyone had assigned themselves to one group or the other the meeting sort of ended. People began clustering together and making plans. Random beckoned Murlas and me to come over to him.

     "There's one other thing I'd thought I'd suggest to you," he said as Corwin also joined us. "That Black Trump you're still carrying around, Murlas, might at a pinch prove to be a valuable means of communication for Dorian. I don't think that you really need it up there and for him it might be another chance to get back home should you become separated. Caine told a little about it," he said turning to me. "He said that things like that are often not specific in nature but more a general means of communication. With a bit of concentration one might easily learn to operate such as thing and since Fiona has such a high opinion of you I figured that it would be pretty easy for you."

     Well, I didn't know about that. Okay, I might be developing some powerful abilities, but that didn't mean that I could just learn to control any power in a matter of minutes. Still, if that Overshadow was such a dangerous terrain, it might be a good idea to have another means of escape, to be not entirely dependent on Murlas. Only question was, would he let go of his much treasured Black Trump that easily?

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