Chapter 049: You Are Here --->
"Careful
my gender, it comes, how it goes,
Love
me tender so nobody knows,
Nobody
knows the trouble I've seen,
Each
time they asked, I said something obscene,
The
splinters shower down, I shelter from the rain,
Against
the grain, against the moon,
I
waxes and I wanes."
The
Enemy Smacks - IQ
It was definitely not the most pleasant way to awake, having someone
shriek all kinds of questions if not right in my ear then at least quite near to
where I was lying, and at such a rapid pace that no one stood any chance of
answering them. Where I was lying? Yes, it would seem that I was being carried
somewhere on what felt like a stretcher. I opened my eyes everso slightly to get
a peek at whatever was going on. The questioner turned out to be Boadice - it
figures - and her topic of discussion was of course yours truly. She wanted the
how, why and wherefore of what had happened to me and she wanted it now! I must
say that I admired the way in which Murlas, for he was one of the two people
carrying the stretcher, managed his replies just so that they didn't answer any
of her questions. If Boa felt any frustration, though, she didn't show it. After
trying a few moments more she beckoned her companion Frewar and continued on her way, only to return right away to make some
off-hand remark about Murlas saving Mardoc's life and that it might perhaps
redeem him for the time he let Trisha Chartin slip away. So Murlas had claimed
Mardoc's rescue as his own accomplishment, had he? Well, let him. It was not as
if I needed any extra credit with Boa and I might come to need some with him
sometime soon.
Just when Boa turned to leave a second time I sat
up straight on the stretcher and waved at her, simply for the effect. I couldn't
resist, and besides Boa didn't really know what was wrong with me yet. If she
found out from first-hand experience, I was sure the news would go around much
more quickly. I heard Murlas slightly heave a sigh when Boa once again marched
back to us, but this time she turned straight to me, undoubtedly in an effort to
get some real answers for a change.
"Whatever has happened to you, poor
soul?" She asked. "Are you hurt?" I smiled and gave her the same
why-nothing's-wrong-with-me routine I had used on Murlas earlier on, and it had
just about the same effect as it had had then: Boa took a step away from me,
shot a worried glance at Murlas and Samal, who just smiled at her, and then
decided that she didn't want to get mixed up in my problems anyway. With a quick
goodbye she took off again, Frewar trailing behind her. I lay down again and let
my two guardians carry me inside the library.
Things had changed somewhat since the first time I
had been there, even though that was only a few hours ago. For one thing there
were a lot of guards standing about dressed in black and white livery, one of
whom accompanied us to Ornach after having heard our names and business first. A
lot of the bookcases had been moved aside too, providing straight access to the
centre where the big man himself sat working behind his huge desk covered with
paperwork. At our approach he looked up and immediately frowned when he saw
Samal. At least some things hadn't changed. When his gaze drifted on to Murlas,
however, Ornach grew more pensive.
"Hmm," he said, "I don't think I've
yet had the honour, sir."
"Lord Murlas," was the curt reply.
"Of Amber," Ornach added with a nod.
"Yes, hmm..." He glanced at me on the stretcher in surprise and I did
my wave and smile routine. "What's wrong with him?" he asked.
"I would appear that he has some serious
mental problems," Murlas said.
"Yes," Samal added, "I have already
taken a peek inside and it doesn't look good at all."
"How do you feel?" Ornach asked, walking
slowly towards me.
"Fine, fine! Never better!" My smile was
still firmly in place, even though I was beginning to feel the strain on my jowl
muscles.
"Will you please tell me what this is all
about," Ornach said to Murlas.
"From what I have seen there appears to be
some sort of barrier in his mind which is holding back a great raging
madness," my cousin explained. "This barrier is but of a makeshift
nature and it appears to be quite rickety, so the madness puts rather a severe
strain on him. This is why he displays such odd behaviour. It would appear that
a mental attack by Suhuy is the cause of the entire problem."
"It's a quite tricky affair," Samal
added. "If you would care to have a look." With that he lightly placed
his hand on my shoulder, Ornach doing the same only a moment later. Both their
minds entered my own, thereby nearly eclipsing it. Of course, this was the
perfect way for Samal to explain the truth to his father without Murlas finding
out about it, but that didn't make it all that more pleasant for me. I was
amazed by the speed with which Samal managed to make things clear to his father
without any need to go into details. It gave me the feeling that they had done
things like this before and that, although they didn't really like one another,
they at least trusted each other more than any of my relatives would trust
another Amberite. The thing that seemed to confirm this opinion was the fact
that Ornach's reason for helping me was not because of the whole threat of the
Pattern taking over, even though I could feel he was concerned about that, but
due to Samal's earlier decision to assist me in my deception. He seemed a bit
sceptical about my chances of seeing this thing through successfully, but I felt
that he realised that he was a bit out of touch when it came to knowing the ins
and outs of the Powers. He would at least do his very best to keep me out of the
asylum, however strange my behaviour would become. I made sure that he knew that
this was a personal as well as more general matter, and that I would be very
grateful for any help he could give to me.
"Well, I've done all I could," Ornach
told Murlas as soon as he had left my mind. "I wasn't able to cure him, so
I strengthened the barrier to the point where he won't run the risk of being
overwhelmed by it anymore. He will be behaving strangely for some time to come,
but it will not last. This young man needs some room to work this out for
himself, and there will be no messing with his mind till he does." That
last bit sounded like a command, and it certainly seemed to be meant that way.
Murlas looked at me and I smiled. He smiled in back at me, and for a moment I
was worried. What did he really believe? How much did he know? Could it be that
he was secretly in some way trying to further the Pattern's goals? Naah, not
Murlas. Not if he knew what was good for him, anyway.
I sat down in one of the chairs near Ornach's desk,
grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and started doodling. The others sat down
as well, and after a few pensive moments Ornach turned again to Murlas.
"I have this feeling that I have seen you
before," he said.
"That is true," Murlas said.
"Ah. And just how did you manage to reach that
particular place?" Ornach wanted to know.
"By way of the Overshadow," was the
reply.
"I'm not familiar with that term," Ornach
confessed. "Please explain." So Murlas did, and his explanation
brought out Ornach's bitterness once more. He had wanted to be one of the main
architects for all of this himself, and instead he had spent ages chained to a
rock. However, the idea of there being several alternative Ambers appealed to
him. This was something they hadn't anticipated when they had set out on their
quest, and every reality different from the next, it was such a marvelous
concept. Of course he had already gathered from what he had heard about the
Nexus that there was more than just Chaos, Amber, and Shadow in between, and
much like Taureth he seemed to have
a quite extensive technical knowledge which allowed him to grasp these new
concepts quite quickly. After a while, however, he steered the conversation away
from these subjects, albeit with some regret. Politics were the things that were
foremost on his mind these days.
During the course of the following conversation
Murlas casually dropped the name of the House Ysarn, which nicely derailed
Ornach's train of thought.
"How do you happen to know that House?"
he asked slyly.
"It's my mother's side of the family,"
Murlas replied.
"Your mother is an Ysarn?" Ornach
persisted.
"So I have been told."
"What does she look like? Blond hair, blue
eyes." Ornach gave a quick description of someone who sounded rather
familiar. I suddenly remembered: Tirga, the woman whose Trump Sand had shown us,
oh, I don't know how long ago.
"No," Murlas said, "my mother is
dead. But some rumours did reach my ears about certain breeding schemes and
relationships..." His voice trailed off into silence under Ornach's stern
gaze.
"I shall have to look into it more
closely," he said, with a face that spelled stormy weather in capitals.
"This other woman, Tirga, was one of the few who knew of my prison. She
came to see me a few times, together with another young lady."
"One of her relatives?" Murlas wanted to
know.
"I'm not certain," Ornach said. "I
believe she called her Dara."
"One of our relatives," I remarked
casually without looking up from my drawings. I could tell from the heavy
silence which ensued that Murlas wasn't too happy about me suddenly piping up
like that. Samal lazily drew himself up from his chair and walked over to look
at my drawings. I just continued, smiling as ever, but his being so close made
me rather nervous. I felt how he began shooting tiny mental probes at me, trying
to touch upon the Curse that lay hidden there, and while I could easily fend
them off they increased my nervousness up to the point where I started drawing
faded, wilted flowers and disfigured little bunny rabits instead of nice, happy,
healthy ones.
"Cut it out," Ornach said sternly.
"Leave the boy alone." Samal smiled at him and once again settled down
in his chair.
"Were there any other people who knew of your
imprisonment," Murlas asked, resuming the original topic.
"Only Suhuy and the two girls," Ornach
said, "and you of course." Another silence ensued and when I glanced
up from my work I saw that he and Murlas were regarding each other very closely.
From all I had heard it was plain that there had to be some kind of family tie
between the two of them, but neither of them seemed to have any certainty as to
the specifics. All in all it wasn't too surprising, considering the resemblance
Samal bore to Murlas's alleged brother Azrain, but still it made for a nice
piece of gossip to drop with some of my other cousins. I'm sure none of them
knew anything about this yet.
"There is one person who might know something
more about this affair," Murlas said, "and that is Sand. She is a very
well-informed relative of ours. Aunt Tirga did not seem to be too willing to
share the details."
"That's what she said," Ornach confirmed,
"but I think she will change her mind in due time."
"Needless to say I am interested in anything
that may turn up in the course of your investigation," Murlas ventured.
"Of course you are," Ornach said,
"but rumour and truth are two different things altogether." He said it
in such a way that made it clear that the conversation was at an end. I had
drifted from flowers to happy smiling faces, drawing first my own, then Murlas's
and Adrian's, and finally Sand's and Aradia's. If Aradia really was Murlas's
cousin there was a good chance that she was related to Ornach too, and if so I
was certain that he would want to know about it. Leaving her portrait on his
desk might prove to be to his advantage.
For a moment I wondered what to do now, then I
remembered my earlier urge to get something to eat. It wasn't such a bad idea,
and this time I was more than a little peckish. Fortunately the others didn't
want to keep me under close observation, for actually I needed to get away from
Samal for a while. I drifted out of the library and began wandering the
corridors, trying to locate the kitchens. After some minutes I just gave up and
asked the first demon servant I came across. It was a big horned creature with
menacing eyes.
"You want food?" he asked in a voice that
seemed to come from the other side of the grave.
"I want to find the kitchens," I
corrected him.
"Where they prepare the
food?" he asked again. I nodded and kept smiling innocently, even when he
drew a large carving knife.
"Oh, you're one of the kitchen staff,"I
remarked. The demon ignored my flippant remark and stepped a little bit closer.
"I chop their heads off like
this," he said, placing the knife's edge against my throat. I had to do my
very best to keep from swallowing, which would have certainly caused the knife
to slice me open from ear to ear.
"Hey, cut it out, will you," I said.
"I'm not meant for eating, I just want something to eat." The demon
kept the knife at my throat for a minute or so, but then he let me go.
"Follow me," he grunted after he had
sheathed his blade. He led me through a series of corridors, then straight
through a green wall, into a series of rooms that served as the palace's
kitchens. A lot of the cooks were in demon form (it's easier to cut the meat
when you have razor-sharp claws), while many of the waiters and waitresses
looked human. My guide led me to the middle of the complex, where he turned
around and said: "Food."
"Thank you very much," I replied and
watched while he turned away to resume his duties elsewhere. There was not much
I could add to that: there was indeed food a plenty here. I looked around till I
saw an opportunity. Moving quickly up to a row of waitresses, I grabbed a plate
from one of their trays and made to return to some quiet little corner.
"Hey you! Who are you? What are you doing
here?" It was the waitress whose tray I had stolen from. I smiled my
sweetest smile at her, but she didn't relent.
"I'm Dorian," I said, "and I'm
hungry."
"I'm sure you are," she said, "but
you'd better keep your hands off my tray!"
"Calm down, Lira," one of her colleagues
quickly whispered, "it's Lord Dorian. Oh, Lord Dorian," she said to
me, her whole expression full of awe. "Such a shame that don't have my book
with me." Oh dear, saved by Adrian's fanclub. Of course she wasn't the only
one of his devoted followers in the kitchens, and before I knew it they had
found a place for me in one of the quieter corners with all of them gathered
round to ask questions and repay me in food. All in all it was not a bad deal; I
had no problems whatsoever with revealing what colour underwear my cousin
usually wore. I tried to remain civil and polite, even confronted with that most
enigmatic question of all: "Is it really true?" I just gave them a
mysterious smile and ate on. The ladies seemed to like me very much and after I
had finished they let me go without any trouble.
Somehow I made my way back to my chambers,
where I gathered up a lot of paper and some writing equipment and set out
on my new task. It had come to me during my meal: I needed something to serve as
an alibi for loitering around in all kinds of places in order to get to know
some people and hear all kinds of rumours. What better way to do this than to
start working on a map of the palace? I knew that this enterprise was doomed to
fail, presuming that this palace acted in much the same way as Castle Amber, but
that didn't matter very much. After all, it was the perfect task for an alleged
madman. So, I wandered out into the corridor and started working. Things were
rather quiet, though, apart from Bleys who came by and wanted to know what I was
doing. When I told him he laughed and walked on, muttering something about
having tried that back home when he was fourteen or something. I just continued
with my work.
I had been busy drawing for an hour or so, when I
rounded a corner and suddenly felt a very strong presence nearby. It was Pattern
energy, I was sure of it. I didn't let anything show, and just started measuring
the walls when I saw someone coming towards me. It didn't take me very long to
recognise him as the person who Fiona had introduced to us as Mask. With the
things Taureth had told me and that strong feeling I'd got just then I was
fairly sure that Mask was a Patternghost, so I had to make sure that he would
not doubt my insanity.
"Hi Mask," I said when he had come close enough, keeping my attention on my work, though. He didn't answer me, but stopped a few paces away and started studying me. I felt how some strong force surrounded me and began to probe, but I didn't let on and ignored Mask and all his tricks. After a while the force became weaker, but I started feeling cold. I shivered and drew my cloak closer around me, still not looking up at Mask. The figure seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he began to walk away, only to halt again after a few paces. He turned back at me and made a peculiar gesture with his right hand. When that still didn't get any reaction from me he turned and walked away, leaving me with my uncertainty as to whether I had managed to fool him or not. There was just no way to tell until it would be too late, I guess.