Malachai's Journal

vol. 1

Hello, journal. I've never kept a diary before, but the damned Hendrakes have
given me writing materials and I have nothing else to do in this hell-hole
but watch my cilia wiggle. Maybe they think they can get something out of me
by reading this that I haven't already told them. But there is nothing
more. They have taken everything.

Perhaps I should introduce myself. I am Captain Malachai Tamberlin of His
Majesty's Own 2nd Imperial Lancers. Perhaps formerly of the Lancers--even if
I were to escape and somehow make my way back to Amber, I don't think they
would accept an officer with tentacles. Is there still an Amber? I think that
bitch Dulnea said Amber had been conquered, but that may have been an
hallucination. I haven't been thinking clearly, what with the drugs and the
torture and the mind probes and the sleep deprivation and who knows what else
they do when I am unconscious or raving.

I must apologize for this rambling. I am not entirely myself, in more ways
than one.  But I shall do a proper job and start at the beginning. As a babe
I was apparently dropped at the doorstep of a Unicorn Temple in Amber by an
anonymous donor. I grew up in St. Cymnea's orphanage. They gave me a decent
education and a lot of discipline. At seventeen, with no better prospects,
I joined the army. I was a big, healthy lad with good reflexes, so I got
along well enough. After six months and a rather tire- some campaign in
Shadow I made corporal. I began thinking about my career and noticed that
cavalry troopers got to ride instead of slogging in mud, wore interesting
uniforms, and appeared to be very popular with women. That was for me.

I cultivated a few friends in the cavalry, including a sergeant name Dodd. He
was a friendly fellow with a severe case of halitosis. I bought Dodd drinks,
listened to his rambling stories, recommended a certain brand of mouth wash,
and introduced him to several lady friends. In return, he taught me to ride
and to fence. When Dodd came up with what he thought was his own idea of
sponsoring me to the Lancers, I could only agree that it would be a good
career move.

Once in the cavalry, I spent the next forty years in a series of campaigns
and cadre billets in various Golden Circle kingdoms. I spent relatively
little time in Amber, but got to experience many people and
places. Gradually, I worked my way from trooper through NCO. After a
particularly nasty battle at Salamis where I found myself choosing chancy
heroism over certain slaughter, I received an officer's commission and an
award of arms. For my device I chose azure a bend sinister argent between two
eagles stooping or.

After another forty years, I had advanced to my present rank of Captain. By
then I had acquired a certain reputation of which I am not entirely proud. I
gambled rather more than I should, although I did generally manage to at
least break even. I was popular with ladies and several times made the
mistake of being caught in compro- mising circumstances with married
women. This led to the third characteristic of my reputation--as a duelist. I
must assure you that I am an even-tempered person who does not easily take
offense. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same of certain others who have been
less than charitable in accepting my explanations for the innocent but
perhaps excessively friendly flirtations that I engaged in with certain
respectable ladies.  It is fortunate that I am blessed with strength and
quickness, for without such talents I might have found my career cut quickly
short.

Following a particularly harrowing affair of honor with a gentleman who
simply would not accept my protestations that a gift to his wife was platonic
in nature, I decided to pursue formal training in swordsmanship. After I had
tried and rejected several inferior teachers, my good friend Sergeant Dodd
directed me to Master Ottaviano. It was rumored that, as a young man, Otto
had been a member of Prince Benedict's personal guard. When I met him he was
blind in one eye and lame in one leg, but he knew the strengths and
weaknesses of every style of fencing known in Amber, a city with the best
fencers of any dimension. He was a hard teacher, and he charged exorbitantly,
but he was worth it. Every time I saw him I learned something that I could
think about and practice for weeks. Whenever I was in Amber and solvent I
spent the bulk of my time training with Otto, who eventually admitted that I
was as talented a swordsman as he had ever seen outside the Royal family.

By my hundred and fiftieth year I believe I had the respect of the whole
regiment and was beginning to be known in the Court. The cavalry squadron I
commanded consis- tently won awards both on the parade ground and in
battle. The regimental com- mander, Colonel Prospero, regularly accepted my
advice regarding troop disposition, promotions, tactics, and logistics. I was
looking forward to what looked like an in- evitable promotion to Colonel when
I had my unfortunate run-in with Prince Eric.

 * * *

Excuse me, journal, for the pause in writing. I would guess the delay to be
several days, if this place had days. I don't know how long I have been in
this prison, but it feels like a year at least. Perhaps this is a place where
time runs quickly and not so long has passed in Amber.  Anyway, they took me
from my cell and brought me before Dulnea, the icy warrior- sorceress who
captured me. She again asked me questions about my origins, and I again
insisted that I never knew my parents. She began to wave her arms and some
telekinetic spell lifted me into the air. I felt my left side, the side with
the tentacles and cilia, twist and squirm in modulation with her motions. At
her command, a thing that is not my arm wrapped itself around my throat and
squeezed.

"Enough lies," she spat. "You are not of Shadow; you are real, though without
the imprint of Pattern. What do you know of Oberon?"

"I can't breathe!" I said. Actually, what I said was "Urk!" but I think my
meaning was clear. The tentacle loosened and I could breathe a little. What
had she meant by, `not of Shadow?'  I felt her bore again into my head,
ripping the structure of my mind apart in an appar- ently fruitless search
for something that was not there.

"What are you hiding?" she demanded.

"Noth...Urk!" The tentacle tightened again, and I lost consciousness. I
remember a series of dreams or hallucinations. Perhaps real. Strange tubes
inserted into me, fluids drawn and others injected, leering demon faces,
peculiar devices poking and observing me.  I awoke in my cell several hours
ago, a quivering mass. Do you know what it is like to awaken, feverish, with
a slimy, wriggling thing crawling across your face, and then realize that the
thing is part of you? I am amazed that, so far as I can tell, I am only
somewhat mad.

`You are not of Shadow; you are real,' she said. That explains their interest
in me. The only way I know of to be truly not of Shadow is to be a descendant
of King Oberon.  Like anyone of uncertain parentage in Amber, I have always
rather hoped it were so.  After all, like the Royals, I am blessed with
excellent strength, quickness, and consti- tution. Probably she was
lying. But if it were so, then whose son am I? I am tall, with dark hair and
blue eyes. Deirdre? It seems unlikely that a Princess would bear a child and
then abandon it. Eric? I hope not! Corwin? Perhaps Corwin. He disappeared
from Amber sometime around the time of my birth. I have admired his tenacity
in fighting his way up Kolvir, his defiance in crowning himself before his
enemies, and his resourcefulness in escaping from the castle after having his
eyes burned from his head.  If you are my father, Corwin, I hope to meet you
one day. Hell, I hope to meet anyone not of this foul place.

 * * *

I have strayed excessively from recounting the past in favor of dwelling upon
the pre- sent. I was about to describe my nearly fatal encounter with Prince
Eric. At that time Oberon had been gone from Amber more than thirty years,
and there was much specu- lation that he was dead. When last I was in Amber
he was still missing. I wonder what became of him?

I managed an invitation to a party at the Castle. This was quite important as
I would need some sort of positive notice by the Royal family in order to
make good my ambi- tion to be promoted despite my humble background. I had
been studying the children of Oberon for some time, in an effort to leverage
myself into a position of patronage.

My date for the evening was a lovely widow who was the ambassador from Jamin,
a Golden Circle kingdom known for its meat exports. I had been seeing rather
much of her lately. Her name was Serena and she had the most gorgeous red
hair, falling in elaborately coiffured braids to the small of her
back. Exquisite. I comported myself well throughout dinner, conversing
intelligently with the guests and being introduced to Princess Llwella and
Prince Gerard. The dancing after dinner also went well at first.  Serena had
been tutoring me for several months in courtly dancing and I was moving
competently. After several dances with her I found myself before Princess
Fiona just as the next dance was beginning.  With some trepidation I smiled,
bowed, and offered her my arm. She curtsied and accepted.

"Captain ... Malachai, I believe?" she asked as we began the first turn. We
were a bit awkward as partners, since her head did not quite come to my
shoulder. Her waist was incredibly slender and her hair was a color two
shades darker than Serena's.

"Yes, your Highness," I replied cleverly. "How are you enjoying the party?"
As the dance progressed, we made small talk. She soon led the conversation to
my background. I told her briefly of the orphanage and went on to my career.

"So you have no idea of whom your parents might be?" she interrupted.

"No, your Highness. I have often wondered." At that point, the dance
ended. We bowed to each other, and we both passed on to other partners. I had
the sense that more had gone on in our innocent little conversation than I
had understood.

Soon I was dancing with Serena again, this time to a country waltz with a
fairly quick tempo. I was enjoying the feeling of swirling her in my arms
when it happened.

Prince Eric was drunk. I don't know how much liquor it takes to overcome the
leg- endary capacity of an Amberite Royal, but he had exceeded his
limit. Most of the guests had been trying to ignore his behavior, while a few
flatterers were following him about and tittering at his obnoxious
comments. He decided that he wanted to dance and forced himself upon Countess
Morwen, cutting in on Prince Julian, who was not pleased.

As the dance proceeded Serena and I passed near Eric and Morwen. We tried to
avoid them but Eric stumbled and tripped over my saber. Although I knew the
fault was his I apologized. He would have none of it. The musicians stopped
and the dancers came to a halt as he cursed at me.

"Ignorant cur!" he shouted. "You dance like a baboon, with two club feet!"

I apologized once more, biting down on the anger that would, if expressed,
destroy me.  He growled and pushed me with one hand flat on my chest. I fell
backward. Unicorn, he was strong!

"Outside," he said, jerking a thumb toward the door. "I demand
satisfaction. Your feeble apologies cannot begin to make up for this insult."

Serena stepped up and whispered fearfully in my ear, "Malachai, you have to
get out of this. He'll kill you."

"I know," I whispered back, "but there isn't any way out." I fumed at my ill
fortune.  Although Eric was rumored to be surpassed by several of his
brothers in skill, I had no illusions that my own abilities gave me any
chance against him. Even if by some strange fortune I were to defeat him,
surely his siblings would never suffer me to live.

Resigned to my fate, I nodded to him. "Very well, Your Highness. If there is
no other way."  Gerard stepped up and placed a beefy hand on Eric's
shoulder. "Brother, please," he said.  "He meant no offense. He has
apologized. Let it be enough."

"No," said Eric, throwing off the hand. "It is done, Gerard." He smiled and
looked at me with the piercing gaze of death. "Outside, Captain."

I nodded. I bowed to Gerard, then turned to Serena. Crying, she threw her
arms around me. I kissed her and pushed her gently away.

"Thank you, my lady, for a lovely dance," I told her. My voice was not so
steady as I might have wished. I found her hand, pulled it briefly to my
lips, then walked past Eric and out the door to the courtyard.  Quite a few
guests followed, giving Eric a wide berth. As his second he chose Prince
Julian, who looked bored. I chose Colonel Prospero, who was horrified at my
predica- ment but could offer no better solution than Serena had. It was late
autumn. I remem- ber that the night was clear and chilly, and the moon was
about three-quarters full.  Around the curve of Mount Kolvir, I glimpsed Tir
Na Nog'th glinting balefully like a cluster of snowflakes in the sky. In the
crowd I saw Princess Fiona, a faint smile upon her lips.

Seven torches were brought and placed in a circle ten paces across. Eric
stood across from me, his frosty breath visible in the cold autumn air, and
he smiled again. We both drew our weapons and the seconds called lay-on. His
sword was of some odd metal with a bright, almost hypnotic sheen. Might it
have strange powers from some distant shadow?

Otto had always told me that if you know that your opponent is better than
you, then an aggressive approach can even the odds slightly. All right. I
stepped forward, point out and edge up in a stance that Otto called
"Spanish." Eric parried my thrust and I brought the tip around to cut at his
head in quarte, then back in after his parry with a fancy
feint-disengage-overhand thrust maneuver with which I had actually tagged
Otto twice.

No joy. Eric pretended to fall for the feint, then ducked down low under my
thrust, which pierced only his cloak. This left me out of line and him in an
excellent position to thrust straight in. I barely stopped it by bringing my
point vertically down to the ground so that I was even further out of
line. Eric, too close now for a good thrust, pushed my shoulder with his left
hand, knocking me off balance as I tried to pivot my sword in a moulinette
straight down. He stepped easily around my clumsy chop and cut for my head. I
managed to get my weapon up in time to partially deflect his blow as I
stumbled back, but it cut like liquid ice into my right shoulder. It didn't
hurt yet, but I could feel the arm jerk slightly as the muscle around the cut
seized.

Eric laughed, enjoying himself, and allowed me to regain my balance before
stepping forward. I circled back and around, parrying a few cuts he flicked
lazily toward me. I knew I was dead. What I wanted then was a piece of him in
trade. My fear was that he would kill me without getting a scratch. Now I
smiled back at him, and I saw a touch of something in his eye--not fear, of
course, but perhaps respect.

I went in again with a point attack, this time low. He parried it down, as I
knew he must, and thrust in for my heart. I stepped in closer, turning aside
so that his thrust slipped close along my chest, leaving what I knew would
become a nasty scar if I lived long enough for it to heal. His sword went up
and around for a close-in cut at my head. I parried, my sword striking sparks
against his. I tried to punch him with my hilt but he ducked below it and
slid his blade down toward my chest.  Without any other options I grabbed his
blade near the hilt with my left hand. I felt it slice through my glove and
my hand like it wasn't there as I desperately brought my sword around for a
wrapping blow over his head. I felt my sword cut once more into his cloak and
then strike flesh. I felt a moment of elation before he shoved a shoulder
into my chest, knocking me back into a torch. I tried to roll back to my feet
but my sword was caught under me and my hand slipped in my own blood so that
for a moment I was immobile. Panic gave way to horror as I saw his point
thrust home toward my heart. This is it, I thought, as I looked up into my
killer's dancing eyes. It is enough...

But somehow, through no action of mine, the thrust went awry. It pierced my
chest on the right side, running me straight through. He cursed and withdrew
the sword for the coup de grace. I had no strength to move as he began an
overhead cut that would surely take off my head. Before it could reach me his
blade, unaccountably, shattered in his hand. He stood there for a moment in
shock and rage, then Gerard stepped in and pulled him away.

Serena came to me as I lay there. She tore the hem from her dress and used it
to staunch the bleeding. I could feel my lung collapsing and knew that if I
tried to speak I would cough up blood. I saw Fiona standing a few paces away,
at the forefront of the crowd. She winked at me and, despite the noise and my
fading consciousness I quite clearly heard her speak to me.

"It would be a pity to waste such a fine dancer," she said as all else faded
away.

When next I awoke I opened my eyes and saw Gerard's beefy face break into a
smile. I was in the castle infirmary, he said, and he had dropped by to check
in on me. I asked weakly after Serena. He told me she had been here by my
side for most of the two days since the duel, and would be back soon. I tried
to sit up but he pushed me back, telling me to rest. I fell asleep before
Serena returned, but she was there when I again awoke.  When I was finally
well enough, a few weeks later, we had quite a celebration.  Although I had
lost the small and ring fingers of my left hand and gained some impressive
scars, I considered myself lucky.

The duel both helped and hindered my career. While I was not in favor with
Eric, he made no overt attempts to sabotage me. I was told later that I had
put a nasty cut across his left shoulder blade; perhaps that had earned me a
measure of tolerance. Some of the others, particularly Gerard, seemed to
admire the spirit with which I had met my fate and the hardiness I had shown
in surviving it. Gerard in fact asked if I wanted to transfer to the navy, as
he had uses for men such as myself. Flattered, I declined, telling him that I
had a duty to my men.  I tried to keep a low profile in court, but a month
later I received a message from Princess Fiona, asking me to meet her the
next day at the castle. I spent the intervening time wondering what she
wanted of me. Did she think me handsome and want a liai- son? Did she wish to
ensure that I not tell Eric who had destroyed his sword? Was there some
dangerous mission she wished me to undertake?  With no little trepidation I
arrived at the castle the next day and told the steward that I had an
appointment with her. She appeared shortly, greeted me, and asked me to
follow her. When I tried to ask what this was about she shushed me. Soon we
came to a suite on the second floor of the castle, obviously her personal
rooms. It was comfort- ably and informally decorated, with many objects that
I did not recognize. The walls were covered in bookshelves. (When later I was
able to glance at the titles of the books I found that they were on many
subjects and in many languages.)  "Captain, let me explain why I have asked
you here," she said.

"Please do," I replied, "for I am most curious, your Highness."

"I do not like to see a man of your caliber killed in so pointless a manner
as nearly hap- pened a month ago. I daresay that without my intervention--as
we both know it was I who saved you--you would certainly have died."

"And I must express my extreme gratitude that you have done me the honor of
saving my life," I said.

"And you are most welcome. I am happy that I was able to assist you. However,
I will not always be available to effect a last-minute rescue. Thus I have
determined that it is necessary to teach you a few things that may assist you
in similar dire circumstances in the future."

"I am sorry, but I do not understand Your Highness' meaning. I have studied
fencing for many years ... "

"I do not refer to fencing, Captain, but to magic," she said.

I did not know what to say. I had seen magicians on the streets of Amber and
in other places, and I had heard that there are shadows where magic is part
of the normal congress of everyday life, but I had never considered myself a
potential practitioner.

"I propose to teach you a few simple spells that you may find useful in the
profession of arms that you have chosen for yourself," she continued. "These
spells will by no means turn you into a master sorcerer--that would take many
years and perhaps more talent than you have-- but they may provide you with
an advantage in the perilous times that no doubt lie ahead for us all."

I admit that I was not, initially, keen on the idea. "And what does your
Highness ask in return?" I inquired.

She smiled. "I wish us to be friends, Captain. I admire your spirit, and I
sense that there is more to you than meets the eye. This is a favor I wish to
do for you. In the future, there may be a favor you can do for me."

"Very well, Your Highness. I agree."

Over the next two months, amid rumors that she and I were engaged in a
dalliance, Fiona proceeded to teach me a few simple magics, in the form of
Words of Power. She made it clear that the words themselves were not the
source of magic, but instead acted as foci for my own will. I learned to
produce a small and uncontrollable shiver in another person's body, to
provide myself with a momentary bit of useful luck, to throw bright spots
before a person's eyes, to disrupt magical spells, and to deflect an oncoming
object. Fiona warned me not to depend on these abilities excessively, since a
prepared opponent can take countermeasures. She also cautioned that there
were some shadows where such magic would not work at all. I thanked her for
her kind assistance. Soon thereafter, my squadron was ordered into the field,
away from Amber and her messy politics.

By that time Eric was in full control of Amber, having cemented an alliance
with Julian, Caine, and Gerard. Benedict had been absent for some
time. Corwin, who had reappeared, was rumored to have allied with Bleys, with
whom he was said to be readying an attack. My unit patrolled the borders of
Garnath to meet them. When the expected invasion came, we were ordered to
fall back and harass the enemy. We did so, minimizing our casualties and
working to cut lines of supply and communication.  Bleys and Corwin finally
penetrated to the castle with a fraction of the force they had begun
with. While they performed their doomed fight up the steps of Kolvir, my men
and I were harrying their rear. By the time Bleys had fallen and Corwin had
cut his way to the top, my squadron had pushed to the foot of the stairs,
dismounted, and begun following their rear guard upward. We helped butcher
what remained of Corwin's men. I watched as they netted him and pulled the
fabled Greyswandir from his grasp, then carried him cursing to his cell. We
spent the next morning searching for Eric's body among those who had fallen
from Kolvir. All that we found was a set of portraits of the royal family on
cards, prompting rumors that he had used some magi- cal means to escape.

The 2nd Lancers were ordered out of Amber soon thereafter. We joined with
Julian's Rangers in searching for any sign of a second invasion from Bleys,
although none came from that quarter. I heard later that Corwin, when brought
before Eric in chains and told to place the crown of Amber upon his brother's
head, had crowned himself instead.  For his defiance he was blinded and
thrown in prison. I have been told that the Royal family does not kill its
own, and in this matter Eric showed a certain hard clemency.

On my rare leaves I returned to Amber, finding Serena a fine companion. We
shared many long walks and gentle embraces. I remember in particular one
dazzling June day, when she and I walked through the magnificent flower
gardens of the First Unicorn Temple. Later we saw a play presented by
Princess Flora's Emerald Company and danced endlessly at a ball hosted by
Count Ingvar of Northmarch. Such times became increasingly infrequent as
further menaces arose to threaten Amber.

It was said that the monsters who began to appear in Arden and Garnath soon
after Corwin's imprisonment were drawn to Amber by his curse. They were
horrid creatures who came mostly by night. They seemed to us like fiends from
hell, and I now know that they were. I spent two years hunting them. At first
they were rare, but soon it seemed that the more we killed, the more would
come the next night. By the second year they came day and night, and they
worked together with deadly cunning. I became very skilled at hunting demons.

One moonless night, a few days after I heard of Corwin's strange escape from
the Amber dungeon, I led fifty troopers through Eastern Garnath near the
Black Road. We were following a group of demons who had attacked a manor
house a few miles south, killing the family and their servants. Three of
Julian's Rangers were acting as scouts ahead of us. We were following the
trail in single file, riding through open forest, when I heard a warning call
from one of the scouts. I quietly ordered the column to halt and spread them
out into a combat formation. There was no further sound from the scouts, but
then we heard wings flapping above us.

The first rule for coping with an ambush is to pick a direction and go. Never
stay in the place the ambushers have picked out for you. Choosing 45 degrees to
the left at random, I told my men to lower their lances and charge
through. As we began the charge, javelins and other projectiles began to fall
on us from the front and sides. Something clanged off my breastplate, and I
saw a large horned figure loom ahead of me. I drove my spear through the
demon's chest and heard it scream in agony as I rode past. I failed to
recover the lance from the creature, so I drew my sword, rode past a clump of
the hell-creatures clustered around some dark banner, and called my men to
me.

As I turned my horse, five of my men rallied with me. I saw that, while we
had done some damage on the way through, many of my men were down or engaged
with winged creatures which had dropped from the trees. We circled, looking
for a way clear of the enemy, then spotted a line of cavalry approaching from
our rear. At first I thought they were our men, but then I saw the skeletal
horses they rode. As I peered closer in the darkness, I saw that they were
white-haired women, dressed in extrav- agant armor. There were perhaps fifty
of them.

Choosing the better part of valor, I was about to order my men to retreat
when a small glowing green sphere emerged from the group of horsewomen and
flew toward us.  Foul sorcery! We had no time to react before it was upon
us. It flew between two of my men, Harrick and Neton, then burst like a
bubble. At first I thought it had had no effect, but in a moment the troopers
and their horses screamed in terror. I saw their bodies rip apart, as if
something were eating them from the inside.

"Save yourselves!" I screamed, and in desperation the rest of us fled. The
women on their demon horses followed us. In horror I watched another ball of
light float quickly toward us. It burst next to me as I leapt from my horse,
terrified. In an instant the horse and another of my men withered away and
faded into dust as they succumbed to the awful effects of the spell. Although
I was in the apparent radius of its magic, I felt only a strange tingling in
my left hand where Eric's blade had taken two fingers.

When I landed I rolled to my feet, sword out, and readied myself for the
onrushing demons. As the first spear sought my heart, I dodged to one side
and the demon rode past me. The next one came up and tried to cleave me with
a sword. I stepped aside and thrust upward, stabbing toward the hellmaiden's
visor. My point slipped past her gorget and pierced her throat as she leaned
down, missing her swing. Her momentum and the urgency of my thrust carried
the whole blade through her neck. She fell for- ward from the horse, her helm
clattering loudly into the darkness as we were knocked together to the
ground. She landed atop me, clawing spasmodically at me as I labored to
regain my breath. Her ashen skin and hair were now bestained with blood that
was not red. Where it touched me I felt it burning my skin. She gnashed
fanged teeth weakly at me and expired.

I rolled her twitching body off me, put a boot to her chest, and withdrew my
bloody sword from her neck. As a rule I try never to harm women, but I felt
only loathing for this foul creature I had slain. I noticed that the last
foot of my sword had broken off when it pierced her and that her blood was so
caustic that the metal was now black- ened and pitted. As I stood I saw ten
or twelve of the hellmaidens sitting astride their horses, regarding me from
a distance of perhaps twenty yards. One in the center appeared to be the
leader. She wore a winged helm and bore a mace instead of a lance. I saw her
speaking to her compatriots, but could not make out her words.

Figuring I had nothing to lose, I pointed my sword in the direction of her
heart and ran at her. She smiled, obviously thinking me rather pitiful, and
raised her mace in my direction. She mouthed some strange words and I saw
another glowing spell emerge from the tip of her weapon. I tried to dodge to
the side as it came to meet me, but it followed. I uttered a Word of Power,
to no apparent effect. It burst above my head with a faint popping
sound. Expecting to feel my insides bursting, at first I felt only weakness
and a strong tingling sensation throughout my left arm. The tingling spread
to encompass most of the left side of my torso and neck. I fell weakly to my
knees and watched in horror as the skin in the affected areas began to
erupt. Worm-like tendrils burst forth and began to wriggle back and forth
under my armor. My left arm writhed uncontrollably as I felt the bones melt
away with a dreadful sucking sound. My hand fused into a single pseudopodia,
and I in a few seconds I regarded with loathing three black tentacles that
had taken the place of my arm.

They laughed at me when I screamed in horror. Three of them rode up and
knocked me unconscious. I don't think any of my men were captured as I was; a
few of them may have escaped, but I am sure that most of them died.  I
remember an endless time of travel through desolate and blackened
landscapes. I am not proud of the weakness I showed in my reaction to my
transformation, but despite my disgust at my own behavior I will not attempt
to whitewash it. I was indeed piti- ful.

They kept me naked and securely bound. Between bouts of madness I remember
becoming vaguely accustomed to my new appendage. I have never learned to
control it fully; still it writhes and grasps whenever I do not give it my
full concentration. At first I had no control over it whatsoever. The warrior
maidens rarely spoke to me, al- though they seemed to find my horror at what
had happened to my arm quite amusing. I did discover that the leader of this
band was called Dulnea, and that they were Hendrakes, whatever that may be.

As we traveled the land became more and more strange. I must admit that I
often re- gressed into catatonia, so I am unsure of whether my memories
represent observation or hallucination. Finally we came to the foul place in
which I currently reside--a great black fortress atop a jagged mountain
beneath a kaleidoscope sky. I think I heard one of them call it Gantu. I was
brought to this cell through shifting corridors and across stinking pits of
slime. They left me here, naked. After a few hours or days I was brought out,
hosed down, and brought in chains before Dulnea. She began asking me
questions. I answered most of them truthfully, having little to
hide. Whenever she didn't like an answer pain was applied by one means or
another. I discovered that she could, when she wished, control my tentacles,
and it amused her to cause them to slap or choke me whenever I was less than
perfectly cooperative.

The questioning sessions were repeated, over and over, in interminable
sessions over many days. Eventually there were different
questioners--sometimes humans or mostly humans, other times demons. A few
times I saw them change their shape from one form to another. Perhaps they
were all Dulnea in different guises. I was starved, deprived of sleep, and
tortured. I was allowed to sleep, but awoke drowning in mag- gots. The
questions repeated, over and over, about who I was and what I had done.
Small details about Amber. Troop dispositions and tactics. I tried to keep
the latter from them, but I fear that in my mad ravings I let all
slip. Finally Dulnea used her magic to probe my mind, pushing and tearing
painfully at the fabric of my conscious- ness.

The interrogation sessions finally stopped, and I was left to wait for a
considerable time-- months or years? Time has lost its meaning in this
place. Then the recent session that I described earlier. Who knows what it
all means? I am not sure that I care anymore.

 * * *

Journal, it has been a long time since I last wrote. Nothing has happened,
and I have had nothing to say. They have left me here to rot. There have been
no interrogations or anything besides food and water for a very long time. I
don't know how long I have been here, or even whether time has any meaning in
this place. Certainly it has been years.  The area of my body changed by the
spell is expanding. Now it covers all of my left side, up my neck, and onto
my face. Yesterday, I noticed another tentacle growing below the other three.

I think sometimes of Serena. Does she still live? Perhaps Amber was conquered
long ago. Perhaps Oberon has come back, as the stories say, with an army to
defeat these creatures and come rescue me. I wonder.

 * * *

It has been long again. Very long. The blight has taken most of me. I now
have eight tentacles, growing in two clusters at my shoulder and hip. My left
leg is turning into another cluster. The cilia cover most of my torso and
face. On the left side my ear has disappeared, and I can feel that the skull
is dissolving. The eye on that side has changed, so that what I see with it
is blurry and strange. Sometimes I see things with it I that I cannot see
with the other.

My mind is going. I can feel it changing. I am slow, and my dreams are full
of things I do not understand. I have thought about killing myself, but I
don't think I can.

Serena, I do still think of you.

 * * *

gone all gone

 * * *

Freedom. It is so strange a thing, to be out of the cell, to be a semblance
of myself again, to be free. I want to dance. I want to cry. I want to go
back to my cell and fade away again so that I will be safe and no one will
know what I became.  No, I don't want that. If this is a dream and I still
abide in my cell let me not awaken.

For my first coherent thought in--how long?--I realized that I was thirsty. I
opened my eyes and realized that I could see again as I once had. I looked
around. I was laying on a cot in a tent. There was a man seated with his
boots propped up on a table, reading a book. It was a large tent and the flap
was open, letting in light and a warm breeze.

The man looked over at me and sat up. "Awake," he said. He had a long dark
beard and was dressed in a loose robe. At his side was a long sword in a
well-worn scabbard. I would have recognized him instantly were I not so
confused.

I tried to speak, but I didn't remember how it went. It had something to do
with the mouth, I knew. After a few seconds I managed a moaning sound.
"Don't bother trying to talk yet," he said. He turned to the tent
entrance. "Soup," he shouted, and soon it was brought. As I ate he had me
practice speaking, first repeating a few syllables, then words. My memories
began to clear, and I was able to ask for more. More was brought. Suddenly,
his identity dawned upon me.

"Oberon ... " I blurted. "Ma ... Majesty ... " Unable to get out of bed and
kneel, I did my best to bow my head and appear appropriately humble.

"Enough," he said. "I have no time for that. You shall rest now, Captain, and
I will see you later." He left me with the soup after making sure I was still
able to feed myself.  Actually, by that time I was quite sleepy. I managed a
few more spoonfuls, then drifted off. I awoke briefly several times over what
I was later told was seven days. I contracted a fever and a doctor gave me a
bitter tea to choke down. I could hear the familiar sounds of a large
military encampment outside.  Finally my fever broke and His Majesty again
visited me. He told me that the war was over and that this camp was near
Chaos, the capital of our enemy. Amber had been victorious and Chaos had
surrendered. I had been released from captivity in an almost completely
transformed state. Oberon had been told of my origins and had used his own
methods to transform me most of the way back into my original form. He showed
me this journal, which had been handed over with me. He had apparently had no
compunctions about perusing it.

"This is interesting reading," he said. "They did not lie when they said you
are real. I think the most likely explanation is that you are my grandson. We
won't know that for sure until you attempt to walk the Pattern, and we may
never know which of my children is your genitor."

He did not mention that if I was not his grandson, and I tried to walk the
Pattern, I would die.

"You will stay here for another week," he continued. "Assuming that you are
strong enough, you will travel back to Amber with Bleys and his troops." So
Bleys was alive, and apparently again in good standing with the King. It
would not be unlike him to emerge from a civil war on favorable terms.

"I have some business to attend to. I will meet you in Amber in about a
month, your time." With that he stood up and made ready to leave.

"Your Majesty, when may I assay the Pattern?" I asked him.

"That will not be for some time," he said. "You will require considerable
coaching if you are to succeed. Your generation finds it quite difficult."
With that he left me.

Within a few days I was able to stand by myself and walk for short
distances. A week later I was basically healthy. I have begun again to write
in this journal as I find that it has helped me to clarify my thoughts.
There is one thing I have not mentioned yet because I find it painful to
discuss.  Oberon did not fully return me to human form. Much of my left side,
including my face and part of my scalp, is covered in blisters, sores, and
greyish bumps that are the remains of the cilia that once consumed me. My
left leg does not function fully, so that I have a noticeable limp and poor
balance. When I asked him whether full restoration would be possible, he
said, "That would be difficult. Walking the Pattern should fix things, and
that will happen soon enough."  Difficult? I am grateful to His Majesty for
restoring most of my proper form. I even have back the two fingers I lost in
my duel with Prince Eric (who, I am told, is dead).  However, I cannot keep
from resenting his unwillingness to finish the job. I am reluc- tant to let
anyone see me like this. Captain Prospero came by yesterday, having heard of
my release, but I told the doctor that I felt very tired and asked him to
spare me visitors.

Is this only vanity? How can I be so ungrateful as to be angry that I am not
perfectly repaired? But there is, I think, more to it. Every time I see
myself or see another's dis- turbed reaction to my visage I am brought back
to the years I spent in Gantu. Oberon told me that, with the time
differential, I was in prison for about one hundred and twenty subjective
years. I have spent nearly half my life in prison. If I could be whole,
without these scars, it would be much easier for me to return to my old
life. As it is, my disfigurement will present a constant reminder of the
ordeal that I so desire to for- get.  If Oberon is trying to provide me with
sufficient motivation to try a walk on the Pattern, he is doing an admirable
job. Indeed, I find myself eager. Tomorrow I begin the journey back to
Amber. I am told that only a few years have passed there. I won- der if back
pay is given based on my time or on Amber time?

 * * *

Once again I am in Amber. She is still beautiful, touched little by the
war. For now I am housed in the barracks of the 2nd Lancers. I have met with
some of my former comrades. They try to hide their response to my appearance,
but I can tell that they are horrified. Perhaps they think it would have been
kinder had I been cleanly slain on the battlefield. Perhaps it would
have. They do try to present a brave facade and show that they are glad of
my return. It has been such a long time for me, but only a few years for
them. Many of my friends were lost in the war, including the noble Sergeant
Dodd, and I see many new faces. Brave lads, all. I am told that the regiment
distinguished itself at the battle of Patternfall in a series of charges
which broke the enemy left wing.  The troops have told me many stories of
bold deeds. I wish I had been there to see them.

Yesterday I met with Colonel Prospero and with Captain Benito, who assumed my
post when I was lost. A good man, Benito; he would have been my choice as a
replacement.  Unfortunately, my reappearance presents a difficulty, as there
are four battalions in the regiment and, with me, five captains to command
them. I have told them that, for now, there is no conflict as I have decided
to take a leave of absence. Although they hid it, it was clear that they were
relieved at my decision. Nevertheless, they assure me that I have a place
whenever I decide to resume my commission.

Tomorrow I am summoned into the presence of His Majesty. We shall see how
that will turn out. In the meantime I have avoided sending word of my return
to Serena. I am sure that she has taken another lover; we never made any
commitments and I was thought to be certainly dead. And of course there is
the matter of my appearance. I don't think I can stand to see pity in her
eyes. I have been in Amber for a week now and each day I say, tomorrow I will
send her a note. It is very hard. I fear I am not the man I once
was. Something has died and left me, and I do not know how to live with- out
it.

 * * *

Years! Two years I must wait before I may try the Pattern.

After a delay of three hours I was ushered into His Majesty's presence. This
was not a formal court; Oberon was seated at a desk with a stack of papers
that assistants brought for him to peruse and that they carried away after he
had taken action upon them. I waited perhaps ten minutes before he took
notice of me.

"Ah, Malachai," he said, "I see that you are looking much better. How do you
feel?"

"I am well, Your Majesty," I replied. "Thank you for asking."

"Good. I am enrolling you in a course on Pattern studies. You will be placed
on indef- inite leave from the Lancers. The course will be taught primarily
by myself, but also by other members of the family, including Fiona, with
whom I understand you are ... ah ... acquainted." He looked stern. "You must
understand that any fraternizing with family members is now strictly
forbidden."

"Your Majesty," I replied, "to my knowledge I have never engaged in sexual
relations of any kind with any member of the Amber Royal family."

"Well, perhaps I am misinformed. Regardless; any such behavior is now out of
the question. I will not abide incest."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Now then," he continued, "this course will involve perhaps five years of
rather intense study. There will be several other students who are probably
your cousins. Once you have completed your initial studies to my satisfaction
you will be guided through your first Pattern walk."

"Do I understand Your Majesty to say that I will not be able to walk the
Pattern for five years?" I asked.

"No, you should be able to walk it after two or three years. The rest of the
course will be practice in how to use Pattern once you have it."

"Then is it possible for Your Majesty to completely restore my form?"

"You mean those blemishes? I don't have time for such cosmetic work. I'm
sorry but you will just have to wait until the Pattern can straighten things
out."

"I see."

"I have assigned you quarters in the castle; you can move in
immediately. Your studies will begin tomorrow."

"Very well, Your Majesty. Is there anything else?"

"See the Steward about your room and make any requests through him. I
understand that you have considerable back pay coming to you. I have seen to
it that you will be paid for all of your time as a prisoner. You will also
have a stipend to support you during your studies. Good day, Captain." Since
I was clearly dismissed, I saluted and left.

Cosmetic work? I am a monster!


 * * *

It has been some time since I have written, as I have been quite busy. My
room in the castle is reasonably spacious. The back pay I drew for 120 years
was a sizable lump sum, most of which I placed in various investments. I have
been taking classes with various instructors for about a month now. There is
indeed much to learn about con- tinuum theory, shadow mechanics, path
visualization, Trump usage, Amber history, and related topics. I feel like I
am a child back at the orphanage.

His Majesty teaches most of the course. He is more patient than I would have
expected. Princess Fiona also provides instruction on occasion. She continues
to treat me in a friendly manner, though somewhat distant compared to the
more personal instruction I had previously received from her. Recently she
was called away on some mission for His Majesty; she was not sure when she
would be back. I have kept myself basically separate from the other students,
although some of them have tried to be friendly. I fear that my sensitivity
over my appearance and the effects of captivity have left me rather difficult
to cope with. Rather than be unpleasant I do not socialize at all. I have
been drinking a bit too much lately, but I am careful to ensure that it does
not interfere with my studies.

I am not sure whether I will be able to hold myself together for the full two
years. I have considered the possibility of disobeying His Majesty and
attempting a Pattern walk without his sanction. I am, however, afraid to
invoke his wrath, of which I have heard much. I have heard also that at least
one grandchild of Oberon has died on the Pattern. I expect that I will need
all of this preparation, difficult as it is to be patient.

Gerard visited the other day. He was quite friendly. He told me that next
summer we students would be learning about Shadow paths by traversing them
with the fleet. He invited me to join him, and I told him I would be glad
to. Gerard is a good sort.

I have heard nothing from Serena since returning to Amber, nor have I
attempted to approach her. It is possible that she is no longer even in
Amber; she may have returned to her own shadow. If she is in the city, she
may not have heard of my release. I spend little time out of the castle these
days and I do not attend affairs of state, so a chance encounter is
unlikely. I believe that I will allow things to stay this way for now.

 * * *

It is hard to believe that it has been 18 months since my return to
Amber. Yesterday I returned from a voyage with the fleet, following the
shadow paths that have created trade routes among the Golden Circle
kingdoms. Gerard showed me the manner in which he strengthens a shadow
path. He also took the ship away from the established pathway so that I could
see how a new route through shadow could be created.  Without the imprint of
Pattern I felt like a blind man being told about color, but I begin to
understand what is meant by shifting shadow. Each change must be so minus-
cule that it does not clash with the surroundings, yet many such shifts can
produce a complete change in environment.

I am blind, and yet almost I see.

 * * *

Just a few more days. Princess Flora sought me out this morning. Morose as I
have been these days, it is impossible not to enjoy a conversation with a
lady so beautiful and well-mannered, even if she is my aunt.

After we had exchanged some simple pleasantries about the weather, she said,
"What I have come to talk to you about is this. Whenever anyone successfully
traverses the Pattern, it is customary that a party be held in
celebration. I'm the one who usually organizes these parties, because no one
else really cares to. In order to properly prepare, I must know when it shall
be held.

"Now there are two possibilities, Malachai." I thought she referred to
survival or death, but I was mistaken. She was granting, possibly out of
politeness, that I would succeed.

"As you know, when you finish walking the Pattern, you shall be able to
command it to send you anywhere you desire. You might, as some others have
done, choose to simply go back upstairs. In such a case the party can be held
as soon as you have recovered from the ordeal of the walk. You might also
choose to send yourself to someplace in Shadow. In that case, you will have
to inform me a day or two in advance of when you will be returning."

"I shall be happy to comply," I told her. "I'll tell you by tomorrow whether
I intend to go forth into Shadow immediately or wait a while."

"Excellent."

Flora has a reputation as being something of a foolish chatterbox. But she
looked at me very seriously then and said, "Malachai, I wish you the best of
luck. I shall be glad when you have walked the Pattern and it has restored
your proper form."

I began to speak but she held a slender finger to my lips. "I know how
Oberon's refusal to heal your scars has made it impossible to recover from
your ordeal. I did not know you before your capture, but I have heard that
you were a much more confident and pleasant fellow. I hope the Pattern allows
you to become the person you want to be."

I took her hand and kissed it. "Thank you," I said.

She smiled her dazzling smile and got up to leave. "Good day, Malachai."
"Good day, Your Highness."

"Oh, do call me Flora, if we're to be related."

"Flora."

There is more to Princess Florimel than meets the eye.

 * * *

Tomorrow is the appointed day for my try at the Pattern. I have decided that,
if I suc- ceed, I shall use the Pattern to transport me out into Shadow
immediately. I will bring this journal with me. Although I haven't really
kept up with it this last couple of years, I find it has become a part of me.

If I do not succeed, then this shall be my last entry. I would like anyone
reading this to know that I went gladly to do this thing. Either I succeed,
or there is nothing more for me in this life. The hope of attaining Pattern
has kept me living for these last two years. Without it the scars are too
broad and too deep.

 * * *

Well, I made it; I have the prize. I do not know my parentage, but I do know
that I am of royal blood. And finally, I am healed.

I got up early and dressed once again in my Captain's uniform, with a sabre
and a belt pouch containing a few supplies. I also brought this journal and
materials with which to write. Oberon presided over the affair, bringing me
downstairs and giving last- minute instructions that were repetitions of what
I have been told over the last two years. Also in attendance were Fiona,
Flora, and Gerard, along with Colonel Prospero and a few other friends from
the Lancers. I wish Dodd had been alive to see it. I miss the old fellow.

I looked for a few minutes at the Pattern, lighting us all with its spectral
glow. It seemed alien, at once welcoming and malevolent His Majesty took me
by the shoulders and gave me a few final words, which I cannot for the life
of me remember. Fiona gave me a pleasant smile and Flora kissed me for
luck. The others shook my hand and wished me the best. Without further delay
I took a deep breath, walked over to the beginning, and took my last first
step.

I felt a shock run though my body and a dull tingling in my fingers and toes.
Distantly, I heard a round of applause and shouted words of encouragement as
I failed to burst into flames.  I won't describe the walk step by step; my
relatives have done so repeatedly, in excru- ciating detail, in various
writings in the Amber library. My account would not differ materially from
theirs. Suffice it to say that it was harder than anything I have ever
done. After the First Veil I mostly lost my sense of embodiment and instead
began to perceive myself almost as a ball of energy proceeding down some vast
conduit. I felt a sense of redefinition, as if the old me had been destroyed
and a new Malachai, similar but not quite equivalent, were taking his
place. Then that me was destroyed in turn and yet another was formed. This
process repeated many times, with each copy re- sulting in a self somehow
more removed from the man who first set foot upon the thing. At points there
were memories and events like dreams, more intense but with the feeling that
they were happening to someone else.

At last I stood at the center, rediscovering the experience of being one
person, myself, in a single body, at a single moment of time. The walk was
rather like a dream in that my memories of it are elusive and transitory. I
realized that I was bathed in sweat and shaking with exhaustion. I waved
weakly to my relatives and friends, then concen- trated on the place I had
decided to go. With no sense of transition, I was there.

It was a secluded beach in a nameless and pleasant shadow. I took a sip of
watered brandy from my canteen and found a shady spot beneath a palm tree.  I
put a hand to my face--and found it unblemished! I took off my jacket, shirt,
and breeches, finding myself whole in every regard. For some time I wept like
a child who has been beaten. Finally, exhausted, I fell asleep.

Upon waking, much refreshed, I re-checked to make sure I was still
whole. Then I took out the journal and made this entry. I plan to find
something to eat and then try this shadow-walking I have heard so much about.

 * * *

It works. I am like a god. I can create worlds with but a thought. The sheer
power of it staggers me.

For several days I traveled from place to place, experimenting with different
ways to shift shadow. I found myself a horse--a big dappled charger with
extraordinary stamina named Bucephalus--who accustomed himself quickly to
shadow walking.  Being able to ride again with proper balance and with both
legs working correctly is more joyous than I can describe. Bucephalus
galloped at top speed through Shadow for nearly a day before we both
tired. Later I tried hellriding and found it unpleasant for myself and
terrifying for my horse. We practiced at it until we could both stand a full-
speed hellride. I played with the laws of probability and found that I can
manipulate my clothing and possessions as I move. I can just "happen" to find
local currency in my pocket or the right papers to placate a guard.

Three days ago I found myself a friendly brothel called the Crimson
Palace. After demonstrating to Madame Justine that I possessed considerable
wealth and could afford any charges I might incur, I selected a dark-haired
lady named Ariadne.  It had been a long time. During my captivity in Chaos I
had no opportunity for sex and after my release I had remained celibate,
mostly out of depression and sensitivity about my appearance. All in all I
had not had sex in more than one hundred and twenty years. I have always had
excellent endurance and staying power, as one would expect from my heritage,
and I spent several hours with Ariadne. When she com- plained of exhaustion I
called for another, a dusky blonde named Lissandra. When she was tired I
rested for a bit, had an excellent dinner, and then got to work with twins,
Selena and Ariken. They worked in shifts through the night (I found that in
addition to their other skills, they gave an excellent massage), but by
morning they asked for relief. I spent the next day with Janine, then Hana. I
slept for a few hours, had another go around with Selena and Ariken, then
proceeded on to Betina. Madame Justine, intrigued, came out of retirement
just for me. I tipped them all very well. It's good to be a god.

 * * *

With that out of my system, for now, I bade a fond farewell to the ladies of
the Crimson Palace, mounted Bucephalus, and set out on business. I had no
illusions that "godhood" granted me any invulnerability and I knew that in
traveling through Shadow it was best to be prepared for hostile locals. I had
brought a sabre with me but it was nothing special--I wanted a superior
weapon. In a shadow named Tulaine, near the desert city of Kosan, lives the
best sword smith in a thousand worlds. Her name is Tazik. She is an inch
taller than me, with sinewy arms like the cables of a ship. Her skin is the
darkest ebony and her hair is shaved into a thin mohawk dyed a deep
purple. Strange tattoos cover her face, breasts, and belly. Her eyes are a
striking yellow.  She has lived there for many years and the locals are
terrified of her.

I came to her and told her my requirements. I wanted a sabre, only slightly
curved, with a back-blade along about a third of its length. The hilt should
be a simple basket of golden bars interlaced about my coat of arms, with a
single blue stone set into the pommel. It should weigh about six pounds, be
forty-two inches long, and have a bal- ance point about eight inches from the
hilt. It should be razor-sharp and virtually unbreakable.

Tazik pressed for more details, which I provided after due consideration. We
traded sketches back and forth. She brought in a several fencers and had them
fight me using different styles while she watched and took notes. She
measured my shoulder, arm, hand, and fingers meticulously and had me swing a
variety of weapons about, telling her how each felt to me. Finally, she named
an exorbitant price. Without attempting to dicker, I gave her half as a down
payment and she told me to come back in a month.

I played with time, riding to a shadow where a day in Tulaine passed in a
local hour.  There I made the acquaintance of a lovely young woman named Miko
and passed a few pleasant hours with her. I got the timing right and returned
just as Tazik was providing the sword with its final quenching. I watched as
she sharpened and polished it to a mirror finish and her assistant completed
the hilt. The next day the weapon was fitted together. As I held the sword
and took a stance I knew she was mine. She could cut through an ordinary
cuirass or helmet easily, and with a strong thrust I could punch through a
half inch of steel. Yet she moved fluidly, like an extension of my arm.  I
complimented Tazik and paid her half again the agreed price.

I named her Galantine.

 * * *

Since then I have spent perhaps three months traveling in Shadow, exploring
different places and different aspects of my abilities. For the past few days
I have been working my way closer to Amber. This morning I called to myself a
grey hawk. To its leg I attached a note to Flora, informing her that I would
be returning in a day or two. I released it, knowing that it would find its
way to her.

I am ready to return. I feel like some part of my soul has been restored to
me. I will return to Amber, take my rightful place as a member of the family,
and find Lady Serena. If she has not married, perhaps we can go off and
explore Shadow together.

 * * *

I am again in Amber. Upon my return to the castle I was met by Flora, who
told me that my Patternwalk party had commenced several hours earlier, as the
participants had not wanted to wait for the guest of honor. I saw Bucephalus
stabled, took a quick shower, dressed, and made my appearance. There was a
heartwarming cheer as I entered; then I was welcomed by the family that was
now confirmed to be mine.  Gerard nearly broke my back when he hugged me, and
even Benedict welcomed me quietly and shook my hand. It was an excellent
party.  Later Fiona took me aside and had me pose for my Trump portrait. I
wore my best uniform and stood against one wall of the castle. It was near
dawn when we began, so in the Trump the sun is rising out of reddening clouds
in the background. I am standing, holding Galantine sheathed and looking at
the viewer with a confident smile.  Later, Oberon presented me with my own
Trump deck, containing the whole family. It will be quite helpful to have a
deck of my own.

 * * *

It has been almost three years; I have gotten out of the habit of writing in
this journal.  In the future I shall try to be better about that.  Shortly
after my Patternwalk party I got in touch with Serena. She was glad to see
me, although it was clear that she had not held herself aloof from other men
while I was away. I could understand this, since everyone had thought me
dead. We still see each other often, though there is no firm commitment and
each of us is free to see others. For now, this arrangement is satisfactory
to both of us.

Walking the Pattern has not excused me from Oberon's class. I am now able to
com- prehend much more of his teaching. We spend considerable time out in
Shadow, trav- eling through different environments and practicing various
manipulations. Since regaining my proper form I have made friends with my
other cousins in the class: Valeria, Zack, Connor, and Alastair. Another
cousin, K'rin, sometimes joins us. Of the class, only Alastair has yet to
walk the Pattern, and he is due to make a try at it soon.

 * * *

Yesterday Oberon told us that Flora had not been able to reach Caine to
invite him to Alastair's upcoming Patternwalk Party. No one else had been
able to get him either.  Rhiannon had, however, detected someone "real" in a
slow time area where Trump were ineffective. Oberon thought it would be a
good practical exercise for the class (which currently consisted of Valeria,
Zack, and myself) to go and investigate. If Caine was there, we should give
him the invitation. If we found Dworkin or the Jewel of Judgment (Caine was
out looking for both) we should attempt to retrieve them. Oberon gave
additional instructions which were basically just common sense.

I thought this an excellent opportunity for a bit of excitement after being
cooped up in class for the past couple of years. An hour later we were back
in the classroom, pre- pared to go. I wore my uniform and carried
Galantine. I decided not to bring Bucephalus along--a wise course of action,
as things turned out.

Fiona concentrated for a moment and a shimmering gateway opened before us. It
seemed a much more convenient method of travel than shadow walking, but who
am I to judge? Through the gate was what appeared to be a beige disk about a
quarter mile in diameter. The disk seemed to be flying over an open
desert. Connor stepped through, then me. When I stepped on it, it sounded
hollow. I wandered around it as the others came through. It seemed basically
featureless, with a few nondescript bumps here and there. I took out my sword
and tried to pierce the surface, but there seemed to be some sort of magic
protecting it, as the sword could not quite come in contact with it. It was
the first thing I've found that Galantine cannot cut, although I assume that
Julian's armor might also fall into that category.

Connor, through some mystical means or another, said that he had seen that
there were many rooms and corridors below us. How surprising. We went over to
the edge, which curved gradually downward. Zack produced a rope ladder from
his bag. Valeria held it while he lowered himself down. Soon he called up
that there was a door near him and could Valeria please move twenty feet to
the right. He did so and then managed to open the door. He went in to explore
while Connor went down after. I held the rope for Valeria. Once inside she
was kind enough to find a ramp which she secured so that it protruded from
the doorway like a plank from a ship. Feeling foolhardy, I let myself slide
down the side of the vessel. Fortunately, I managed to land on the ramp. We
pulled it in, secured it, and entered the vessel. Inside was a large room
which smelled unaccountably like camels, although none were in evidence. As
we were looking about, we all began to sense that the sky ship was shifting
through shadow.  Then Connor said, "There's something real coming." We
discussed the implications of this for a few moments and decided that we
would be friendly.  Apparently we were overheard, as a voice said, "So you're
all in agreement, then?"  A man stepped out of a doorway. He was of medium
height, with red hair and blue eyes. He was a well-built fellow with quite a
tan, wearing a sleeveless shirt with blousy pants. He seemed to find no
threat in the entry of a party of armed Amberites into his ship. We all said
hello and introduced ourselves. He insisted on being told our names before he
would identify himself, as we were the guests here. A reasonable pre-
caution, I thought.

"I am your Uncle Mikail," he said with a friendly smile after we had told him
our names. We have all been taught a good deal of family genealogy in the
last few years, but none of us recognized anyone of that name.

He asked us our parentage; we told him. He seemed particularly interested
that Connor was Fiona's child. It was easy to surmise that Mikail was
Connor's full uncle, what with the red hair and all. He quickly confirmed
this, declaring that he was the son of Oberon and Clarissa. He invited us to
go with him to the control room of this vessel, where, incidentally, things
smelled less of camel. We accepted. Soon we were tramping along through
seemingly endless rooms and corridors. When asked about the smell, he said
that the skyship had once been used as a transport for many camels.

"Have you seen Caine recently?" I asked, mindful of our mission.

"No," he replied.

"Dworkin?"

"No."

"The Jewel of Judgment?"

"No." So much for duty.

Valeria asked, "What is your relationship to Amber?"

"I am not one to be much at court," he replied.

Soon we arrived at the control room. In it, besides various..ur...controls,
were a man, a young girl, a picnic basket, and a stuffed bunny. Mikail
introduced the man as Paolo, his half brother; the girl as Cassandra,
daughter of Corwin; and the bunny as Darhyse, a friend of Cassandra.  Paolo
seemed competent, but without the blithe confidence of Mikail. He appeared
dark, slender, and dangerous.

Cassandra looked to be about 12 years old. She had black hair and green eyes,
matching the colors of her dress. In features, she looked rather like a
young, female version of me.

"Who is your mother, Cassandra?" I asked, interested in her family.

"I don't know," she said.

Mikail, clearly leading her for our benefit, asked "And where are you from,
Cassandra?"

"From Pearl," she replied, as if the answer was obvious. I'm sure that, to
her, it was.

"How long has it been since you saw your father?" I asked.

"A couple of days," she said. "How did you get here?"

"We were sent by Fiona," replied Connor, which was technically true.

"Why?"

"We are trying to find Caine," he replied.

She looked at him blankly, suggesting that she had never heard of Caine.

Connor took us aside for a moment and said, "Since Caine isn't here, we
should leave.  After all, for every minute we spend here, much more time is
passing in Amber."

"Does Dad know where I am?" Mikail asked.

We looked at one another. "Not to our knowledge," I said. The others nodded.

Connor, apparently with the idea of leaving, pulled out a Trump
card. Apparently it didn't work, as he frowned, then wandered off to try it
someplace else. Paolo went with him, probably to keep an eye on him.

"So why do you avoid Amber?" I asked Mikail.

"I don't like the political infighting."

We all nodded in understanding. We continued to chat. When asked about the
desti- nation of this craft, he explained that they were following an object
that was traveling in shadow called an obelisk. They pursued it because it
they were curious about its powers. They had been following it for several
hours.

At that point a control device made a beeping sound. Mikail went and spoke
too it, too quietly for us to hear. Suddenly, he appeared nervous.

"Father is here," he declared. Apparently, Connor had succeeded in Trumping
Oberon, who had decided to investigate for himself.

Soon Oberon appeared with Connor and Paolo. He did not look pleased.

"Hello, Dad," said Mikail.

"Hello, son." replied Oberon.

"I guess Mom never told you."

"No. What is your name?"

"Mikail."

"I'll have to speak with your mother about this."

"Say hello for me if you see her."

Oberon looked at Cassandra. She smiled at him. The stuffed bunny suddenly
smiled, reached into the picnic basket, took out a pastry, and took a
bite. This was getting rather strange.

"This is Cassandra," Mikail said, "daughter of Corwin. And this," he said,
indicating the bunny, "is Darhyse."

Cassandra said hello. The bunny didn't respond.

"Well," said Oberon, "I would like to invite all three of you to visit
Amber."

"Four of us, you mean," said Cassandra, holding up the bunny.

"Yes," said Oberon. "Four of you."

"Cassandra," Mikail explained to her quietly, "when he said three he meant
me, Paolo, and you and Darhyse together."

"I see," she said, unconvinced.

Oberon turned to Mikail. "Am I interrupting, or can you accept my invitation
now?" he asked.

"Yes, but there is the obelisk we are following." Mikail described it in
terms I did not understand. It seemed to be some sort of big stone.

Oberon seemed familiar with the phenomenon. "Ah, yes," he said. "I will show
it to you later, if you wish."

"In that case," said Mikail, "we shall be happy to accept."

Oberon pulled out a Trump and looked at it. Then he frowned. "We must be out
of the ship for this to work." Then he led us unerringly through a set of
corridors to another set of doors leading outside the ship. From there, he
Trumped through to Fiona. He spoke to her for a moment and told us to go
through.  I went first, then Mikail. When Fiona saw him, a look of horror
crossed her face and then her expression went entirely blank. He kissed her
on the cheek. She greeted him blandly, seeming almost in shock. Then the
others stepped through.

Mikail chatted with Oberon for a while about family matters. Oberon said he
would try to gather the others together soon, so that he could get to know
them. Mikail thanked him. Then Oberon excused himself, sorted through his
deck of Trump, pulled one out, and made contact. Soon he pulled another
redhead through. From her portraits throughout the castle, I recognized
Clarissa. At her appearance, a look of even greater terror crossed Fiona's
face. She backed away.

"Hello, Mom," said Mikail.

Clarissa kissed him, then turned to Oberon. "I present to you our youngest
son. Since you screwed up with the last one I thought I'd see to him myself."

We all winced. I thought that Oberon would surely display his legendary
temper at that remark, but he merely raised an eyebrow. Clarissa asked that
her son be formally recognized. Oberon agreed, suggesting the upcoming
Patternwalk party for Alastair.  When Mikail asked what that was, he
explained.

"How marvelous," said Mikail.

"You've never had one? We shall have to hold one for you, then." Then he
spoke quietly with Fiona for a moment, and she seemed to calm a bit. Clarissa
greeted her and she appeared almost calm. Oberon then explained about the
class he was teaching and sug- gested that Mikail might wish to join
it. Mikail replied that his mother had given him lessons, but that a fresh
viewpoint was always appreciated.

Clarissa wandered off and we all proceeded to the classroom. Oberon began to
lecture about the lessons learned from this exercise. Paolo seemed lost, so
Zack and I quietly gave him assistance with some of the obscure terminology.
After Oberon's lecture I chatted with Paolo. We decided to take a stroll into
the city so I could show him a couple of my favorite bars. We ended up at the
Fire and Brimstone, a favorite hangout of the Lancers and other members of
the Amber military. I intro- duced him around. It soon became apparent that
Paolo was quite a good teller of stories. He entertained the lot of us with
tales of various adventures in Shadow. I don't think many of his stories were
actually true, but that did not detract from their enter- tainment
value. Others broke in with their stories, all of which seemed especially
clever when told to an audience which included Paolo. When several troopers
asked me to again tell of the charge at the Third Battle of Ak-Nesh, I
related the tale, in which I played a small but not insignificant part.

Soon our stories became less coherent as the effects of serious drinking came
on. I have an excellent capacity for liquor (since finding out my heritage,
my brother Lancers no longer attempt to keep up with me), but Paolo was my
match. I did not really intend to become drunk, but then I don't usually have
a drinking partner with Paolo's toler- ance. Some hours later (I'm not sure
quite how many, but I believe that by then we had missed dinner), a sailor
stumbled into the bar. His gait was hardly unusual, but I noticed that he was
sopping wet. I stood up as the men at my table were singing "When the Boys
Came Home," very badly, and went over to investigate. The sailor was wounded
in several places.

As I came up to him, he said to the barkeep, "Gerard's fleet is under
attack. They sunk my ship. I'll have a drink!" Then he fell off his stool and
onto the floor, unconscious.  Several sailors also heard his statement. They
gathered up their companions and raced out of the bar.

I was not thinking clearly and I fear that I embarrassed myself. Fearing for
the safety of Amber, I decided to Trump the King. Fumbling through my deck, I
pulled out his card and concentrated on it hazily. Eventually, I made
contact.

"Yes?" he asked, beginning to notice my unsavory condition.

"Your Majesty, it has come to my attention that Gerard's fleet is under
attack."  Unfortunately, in my inebriated condition my pronunciation was less
than precise.

"I am well aware of that," he said, sounding rather unconcerned.

"Do you have any orders, Sir?" I asked.

"Yes. Get some breath mints." With that, he cut the connection.

As he had stated it as an order, I felt obliged to obtain some breath mints
despite the undoubtedly rhetorical nature of his command. The bartender had
none, but he did offer me something called "monkey chips." They looked
vile. Paolo leaned past me to grab one and ate it.

"I wouldn't eat one of these if I were drunk," he said. "But I'm eating
them. Something's wrong here."

"Someone is attacking Gerard's fleet," I told him.

"Good," he said. "Who's Gerard?"

"One of the Princes," I replied. "My friend. I'm going to jog down to the
harbor to see if there is anything I can do." I thought a jog would help
clear my head.

"You look like you could use someone to keep an eye on you." In my current
state I could not counter his logic. "I'll come along." As I put my cards
away he went over to the Lancers. Soon it became apparent that all of
them--about 25--were coming with us.

We stumbled out into the night and began to jog toward the harbor. After a
few minutes I spotted a pharmacist's shop that was open (fortunately, shops
in Amber tend to keep late hours). Mindful of Oberon's order, I went
in. Paolo and the others followed. As I made my needs known to the
shopkeeper, Paolo came up handed me a bag containing a fine white powder and
a small metal box labeled "Altoids."

"These should do for you," he said. I paid for the two items as Paolo
explained that the box contained breath mints and that the powder, when mixed
with water, was an excellent hangover remedy. I ate a couple of altoids,
finding them curiously strong.  Looking around the shop, I noticed that the
Lancers were beginning to make consider- able mischief; several were even
playing a game of coin toss from one end of the shop to another, with a
bedpan as the target.

I marched unsteadily to the door and called, "Lancers, follow me!" With that,
we again charged out blearily into the night. Soon we spotted a burning ship
in the distance. We ran toward it. When we got to the water's edge we found
that, alas, the burning ship was still a considerable distance away. We could
make out other ships beyond the mouth of the harbor; some of them appeared to
be engaged in battle.

I looked around and spotted a good-sized sailboat tied up at a nearby
dock. Paolo and I retrieved two Lancers who had fallen into the harbor and we
all trotted over to the boat, which was named "Lucy." After a bit of
explaining, the crew of the boat agreed to sail us out into the harbor. I
think in retrospect that they were terrified of us, as they refused an offer
of recompense. We all swarmed aboard.

As we helped the sailors cast off, Paolo climbed the mast. "Tally ho!" he
cried.

"That's the spirit!" I shouted. "To the battle!" The sailors looked worried,
but once we were free of the dock they began to tack Lucy in the direction of
the combatant vessels.

Still feeling woozy, I decided that it might help clear my head if I made use
of Paolo's hangover remedy now. I asked a sailor if there was any drinking
water.

"Grog," he replied. "Only grog."

I had him bring me a mug of the stuff. Hanging off the side, I diluted it
with seawater.  I poured the white powder into the mug and mixed it into a
solution. Then I gulped the horrid concoction down.

After perhaps half an hour my head began to hurt. Then it began to hurt some
more.  Soon it felt as if a vice was clamped onto my skull and was in the
process of cracking it open.

At about that time, Paolo shouted, "Ship! Over there!" We all looked in the
direction he pointed. There was, in fact, a large black warship with black
sails bearing quickly down upon us. It's flag was sable a skull over crossed
bones gules. (These fellows clearly know nothing of heraldry, as demonstrated
by the incorrectness and poor contrast of red on black.)  "Excellent!" I
proclaimed loudly. "That is a much better ship. We shall take it and trans-
fer our command." Still, a modicum of worry penetrated my befogged
brain. With con- siderable effort I managed to climb up near Paolo's perch.

"So, Paolo. How would you suggest that we take that ship?"

"A concerted rush, of course. We are the Lancers!" Apparently he considered
himself an honorary member. Or perhaps the others had enlisted him while I
wasn't looking.

Soon the ship was close enough to hail us. "Ahoy the boat," the captain
shouted. "Do you surrender?"

"No!" I replied. "Do you?" The pirates laughed, damn them. Their ship quickly
pulled up alongside and dropped a ramp from their deck onto our rigging
(their deck was much higher than that of the Lucy).  Paolo, shouting, "Tally
ho!" jumped toward the ramp. He managed to grab it with one hand. At the same
time he dropped his sword, which landed quivering point-first in the deck of
the Lucy next to one of the Lancers, who promptly fainted. Three pirates ran
out onto the ramp and, looking rather amused, began to stomp at Paolo's hand.
Somehow, he managed to change his grip so that they missed. Then he began
working his way along the ramp, holding with one or both hands while the
pirates tried to stomp them. I began to suspect that Paolo was less
intoxicated than he had appeared.

A few of the pirates climbed down onto the deck of our ship. The crew of the
Lucy promptly surrendered, begging for mercy. Meanwhile, I had gotten
together most of the Lancers and we climbed into the rigging toward the
ramp. At one point I was so overwhelmed by the pain in my skull that I had to
pause for a moment. Several others climbed past me while I recovered. They
climbed up to the ramp and engaged two of the pirates. In their inebriated
state my men, although outnumbering the enemy locally, could no more than
hold the two pirates off.

One Lancer named Vastak tried to give me a hand up. Unfortunately, when he
took my hand he lost his balance and fell. I held him dangling, but was
unable to lift him back to his perch. "Don't worry," I told him. "I'll swing
you over to the mast." With a firm heave, I got him moving in the right
direction. He let go my hand to grab the mast, but missed, falling instead to
the deck. This was not going as well as I had hoped.

Meanwhile, Paolo had pulled himself to the other side of the ramp. He swung
himself up onto it and confronted the nearest pirate, who tried to skewer him
with a cutlass.  Paolo stepped to one side, grabbed him by the wrist, and
punched him in the jaw. The pirate fell into the sea like a clubbed ox as
Paolo took his sword. The Lancers, enchanted by his success, began to chant,
"Paolo! Paolo! Paolo!" Paolo, shouting, "Tally ho!" ran onto the deck of the
black pirate ship, heading for their flag.

At about that time, I reached the ramp. I drew Galantine and swung at the
nearest pirate. He parried and retreated. I followed. We had traded only a
few blows when the pirate captain began shouting orders to his crew.

"Disengage!" he yelled. "They're on our side!" The pirates stopped fighting.

There was a pause in which no one said anything. I walked over to the pirate
captain.  "All right," I said. "Just what is going on?"

He explained that he had just received a command from the flagship of his
fleet, ordering him to stop fighting and assist us.

My head was finally clearing. "Very well, Captain," I said. "Please head us
toward the fighting." I got all my men on board the pirate vessel just before
the crew of the Lucy cast off and began sailing back toward Amber. Although I
told them that they should keep their guard up, the Lancers concluded that
the pirates had surrendered and the battle was over. They began wandering the
ship, looking for loot.

I walked over to Paolo, still standing by the flag. "Do you know what's going
on?"

"We have joined the attackers. They are the winning side," he said. He
pointed to the pirate flagship we were quickly approaching. "See those three
on the poop deck-- the two in armor and the other wearing a mask? They are
family."

"Perhaps you have joined the attackers. I still support Gerard. If this ruse
you have somehow arranged will get us closer to the action, then I'll go
along with it."

Paolo shrugged.

Soon we, along with the other large pirate vessel, were approaching Gerard's
flagship.  As we came near they began firing on us. I could not see Gerard. I
shouted his name several times, but he did not appear. Soon it became clear
that his ship contained only a token crew; Gerard had apparently abandoned
the fight. Damn.

We came alongside the pirate flagship, which bore a flag of plain sable with
a tiny inescucheon in one corner that I could not read. Sheathing Galantine
in disgust, I climbed over to the other ship's deck and walked over to the
three Paolo had pointed out to me.  "So, what's going on?" I asked them.

Mikail, who was wearing an elaborate armor in the shape of a dragon, pushed
up his visor. "Not much," he replied, looking bored.

"Gerard isn't on that ship?"

"No. Of course not."

"Has anyone Trumped him?"

"No. I don't have his Trump."

"Allow me." I took out my Trumps and pulled his out. I concentrated on it but
found that he was already engaged in a Trump call. I sighed in disgust and
put away my cards. I'll never be good at this political crap.

I listened to them discuss the situation. The other one in armor was Bleys;
Mikail was trying to tease him into shaving his beard but he would have none
of it. Soon it became clear that this whole affair had been arranged by
Oberon as a means of testing Oberon's defenses. At that point I noticed that
the tiny crest on the pirate flag was, in fact, the king's personal
device--vert a unicorn facing sinister rampant argent.

I turned to the third person--the unarmored one wearing a mask. She was
giving orders to the crew. "Do I know you?" I asked.

My cousin K'rin pulled off her mask. I complimented her on the performance of
her fleet; she seemed pleased.

"Why this attack?" I asked.

"Gerard should not have beaten me at chess," she replied. "Besides, Oberon
thought it would be a good idea."

Bleys and Mikail, who it seemed, had come aboard Erika's craft only a short
while before myself, discussed whether there was anything interesting they
could do now that the embarrassment of their brother Gerard was mostly
complete. Bleys mentioned that there were two Golden Circle kingdoms that
were being invaded by an unknown but powerful outside force. We discussed the
logistics of intervening on the side of Amber's allies. K'rin was not sure
whether her captains would agree to a land battle, but she could certainly
transport us there. Bleys pointed out that we would have to accomplish the
job in time for Alastair's party tomorrow night.

"We should certainly be able to manage that," said Mikail. He Trumped his
Majesty, who brushed him off without actually forbidding our venture.

"It's agreed, then," said Bleys.  Lacking anything better to do, and wishing
to delay my return to the royal presence after my mortifying display of
drunkenness, I accepted their invitation to join them.  Paolo, not
surprisingly, also elected to join our company.

I brought my Lancers onto the pirate flagship. They wanted to celebrate the
mission by drinking with the pirates, but I forbade it. We had shamed our
regiment, I told them, with our recent disreputable performance and would
need to be sober if we were to avoid further disgrace on the morrow. I had to
be stern, but within a few minutes I had confiscated their remaining liquor,
or at least most of it, and saw them bunked down on deck.

Unable to sleep with the remains of my headache, I have taken journal and
lantern in hand and described this day's misadventures. If my performance
tomorrow is as dam- aging to my reputation as today's botch, I might as well
run out into Shadow and not come back. Alas, if this is the effect that
strong liquor has upon me, I shall have to give it up. Or, at least, give up
drinking with Paolo.  Good night.

 * * *

After sleeping on the deck I awoke rather stiff. I walked about, working a
cramp out of my leg, and encountered Bleys. He looked as if he had spend the
night on a feather bed and dressed with the aid of ten servants. His clothing
was perfectly pressed and all I could smell of him was a subtle cologne. With
him was Mikail, who seemed to have taken up heckling his brother as a hobby.

"So, Bleys," I said. "Tell me about these two shadows and those who are
attacking them."

"The shadows are called Shakra and Tinolo," he said, displaying his perfect
teeth in a smile. "I'm not really sure about the attackers; the person who
told me about this busi- ness died in mid-exposition."

Mikail snorted. "Perhaps you should acquire more reliable sources."  Bleys
shrugged. "Get your men up," he told me. "We'll soon be in Shakra."

"Isn't Shakra completely landlocked?" I asked, having been there once.

"We will be shifting into a lake," he said. "K'rin has been called away to
see about some other business, but she was kind enough to leave this ship at
our disposal."

With that, I went to see to the Lancers. They were in surprisingly good
condition after their night of debauchery. Although complaining of hangover
and seasickness I knew that once on dry land they would comport themselves as
the competent soldiers I knew them to be. I told them the plan, such as it
was. Once assured that it had His Majesty's approval, they were all for it.

Soon Bleys had shifted our vessel into what he assured us was the largest
body of water in central Shakra. Unfortunately, central Shakra is quite dry;
the lake he had promised was more of a pond. The ship was, in fact, scraping
bottom in the deepest part of it, and I could not imagine it moving far
enough to shadow-shift it back out.  Fortunately, that was not my
problem. The pirates, on the other hand, seemed none too pleased.

Around the pond the land was dry, hilly, and lightly wooded. In the distance,
to the North, were a castle and a burning town. Closer to us, to the East,
was a military encampment flying the flag of Tinolo, a nearby Golden Circle
kingdom. Near the camp was a good-sized army performing battle drills. At the
head of the army I recognized a thin, long-haired figure: Benedict. To the
Northeast a battle was going on, which Benedict's army was ignoring
completely. The battle was between a human army, bearing Shakra standards,
and a force of grey insectoids. We all disembarked while taking in the
scenery.

Bleys took out his deck of Trumps and contacted Benedict. After conversing
briefly he terminated the contact and explained the situation to us. Benedict
had apparently been sent by Oberon to act as an advisor and observer. He had
a reserve of troops to use in the event that the situation turned out to be
worse than expected, but was not cur- rently anticipating a need to commit
them. Benedict had no objections, however, to our intervening in the current
fray.

Upon completing his explanation, Bleys whistled. Within moments, a beautiful
white horse galloped up. Nice trick, that. He mounted and spoke for a short
while with the pirates. They were not pleased to be landbound, but were
cheered at the prospect of a battle. They began to jog toward it. Bleys, in
turn, charged past them. Mikail followed on foot, soon speeding ahead and
overtaking Bleys by some means I do not under- stand.

I nudged Paolo. "We Lancers had best find some horses, eh?"

A look of delight came over his face. "Horses!" he shouted. "Tally ho!"
Paolo immediately began to jog toward Benedict's encampment, where he had
spotted a corral full of horses. With a shrug, I called for the Lancers to
follow me and trotted after him. When we arrived at the corral, Paolo had
knocked a guard unconscious, saddled a horse, and mounted it. We all selected
mounts and readied them. As one, we headed toward the battle. By that time
Bleys and Mikail had worked their way through the Chakran army and hit the
enemy center. The pirates were headed toward the left flank, so we went to
the right.

Circling `round, we looked for some command center or group that the bugs
might be protecting. Nothing. They were a uniform mass, pressing efficiently
toward the enemy front. As we came closer, I observed that they each had six
arms and four legs. Covered in grey chitin, they carried a sword or other
weapon in each hand. We charged along the enemy rear, engaging clumps of the
enemy forces as we went.  The insects turned out to be rather a minor
threat. They were clumsy and slow to react to our movement. Also, they were
weaker than they looked and more fragile. Their blood was a yellowish green
substance that was quite disgusting. Still, there were quite a few of them
and it was some time before we killed them all. Mikail, it turned out, could
fly, or at least levitate. He buzzed along above their heads in his dragon
armor, wielding two curved sabres with lethal efficiency. Bleys, not to be
outdone by his little brother, got his horse up into the air also, riding
along and picking off bugs without getting any of their mess on him or his
mount. Paolo, screaming "tally ho!" like a mad- man, engaged in absurd feats
of acrobatics as he leaped and twirled over their heads. It seems that the
laws of physics have given up entirely on enforcing themselves upon my
brethren.

Once they were mostly dead and the Chakran army was cheering us and mopping
up the remaining bugs, I rode over to Bleys.

"Don't you know of any interesting wars?" I asked.

He pointed toward the crest of a nearby ridge. Over it was pouring a huge
army of Chaos demons. In the sky were hundreds of wyverns ridden by humanoid
monsters.

"Oh," I said. "That will do very nicely, thanks."

"I believe we should consider asking for assistance," said Bleys.

"You call Benedict," I told him. "I'll call His Majesty."

Recalling my most recent Trump conversation with the King and the
embarrassment I had brought upon myself, I pulled out my deck. With
considerable trepidation I sorted out his card and concentrated upon it.

He answered quickly. "Well?"

"Majesty, there appears to be a Chaos army invading the Golden Circle, moving
toward Amber."

"I'm aware of that. Where are you?"

"Near Benedict's army with Bleys, Mikail, and Paolo."

"Good. I'll send troops elsewhere, then." By that I supposed he meant that
there were other places, more threatened, in need of troops. This could be a
problem.

"Do you have any specific orders?"

"Yes. Deal with them, Sir." Oberon cut the contact.

Pleased at not having made an idiot out of myself (and that he called me,
"Sir"), I turned to Bleys. He had dismounted and was just finishing his
conversation. Paolo had jumped on Bleys' horse and was trying to make him
go. I can only surmise that Paolo wanted to fly up to fight the
wyverns. Bleys' horse was having none of it. Cursing, Paolo got back onto his
own horse.

Bleys pulled Benedict through.

"Orders, Your Highness?" I asked him.

"I'll take that side," he said, looking grim as he pointed to the enemy left
flank. "You take the other side." He started trotting toward the enemy
army. His own force was still perhaps a mile away.

"Lancers, we have the right flank," I announced. A bit fatigued from the
recent fight, still they drew steel and prepared to charge.

"I will join you," said Bleys.

"Your Highness, we would be most honored," I told him.  Then we rode forth to
confront our enemies in open battle. I must admit that I was fearful. When
last I had engaged the forces of Chaos things had not gone well for me.
Their army was huge, covering a dense frontage of perhaps a mile and of
unknown but considerable depth. Once Benedict's full force arrived, we would
have no more than ten or twelve thousand men, many of them still disordered
from their recent combat with the insectoids. On the other hand, we had four
members of the royal family of Amber, as well as Paolo--whatever he was,
exactly.

The battle was fierce. To our right, I saw Benedict walking calmly back and
forth through the Chaos line, slaying everything that came near. All attacks
against him seem to miss without his having to notice them, and his deadly
strikes appeared almost lazy.

I must admit that I am perplexed. In the battles today I have seen various of
my rela- tives wade into huge masses of fairly competent troops as if they
were facing unarmed children. I understand that Benedict, Bleys, and others
have studied the arts of war and personal combat for thousands of years. Yet
I don't understand how they can do that.

I remember seeing Bleys fight his way up the steps of Kolvir. We could only
come at him one at a time, and he killed hundreds of us. Finally, he was
pulled off the steps by a dying man. Corwin fought his way up the rest of the
way. Then, after we killed his troops, he was one man against several
hundred, out in the open. We were hampered by orders not to kill him, but
under those circumstances it was fairly easy to take him down, although he
did kill some brave men in the process. If we could defeat Corwin without
much trouble (and I have heard rumor that Corwin beat even Benedict in an
encounter on the Black Road), then how could Benedict stroll among a horde of
Chaosites like he was taking a walk in the park? How can Paulo accomplish
ridiculous acrobatic feats amid hundreds of enemies who are doing their best
to skewer him? Am I the only one who risked his life today? Was this a
pleasant little diversion cooked up by Oberon for the amusement of his
family? I know that the enemy was not without skill, because I fought
them. They were not the best I have ever faced, but they were not the worst
by any means. It makes no sense to me.

Anyway, it happened whether I can explain it or not. Paulo seemed very
familiar with the enemy. Twice I even heard him call one of them by name as
he slew them. Mikail flew through the sky, trailing fire from his dragon
armor and killing squadrons of Chaos warriors on griffins. Then he dove
toward the enemy center, where the com- manders were, and rained fire down
upon them.

Something happened then that I didn't get a clear picture of at the
time. Paulo explained it to me afterward. Apparently, once Paulo had
penetrated near the enemy center, he Trumped in Oberon, Clarissa, Zack, some
others I did not recognize, and some of Clarissa's troops. Most of the Chaos
army immediately concentrated on attacking them. Out at the front line, we
had an easy time of it, as the enemy line sud- denly turned their backs on
us. We pressed them hard, slaying many from behind.

Meanwhile, Oberon and his forces withstood the onslaught long enough to cast
some vast, dark spell. In an instant, all of the enemy leaders, with most of
their reserve forces, ceased to exist. Gone.

Oberon and most of his people then Trumped out to deal with some other
attack. The remaining enemy army, demoralized, proved an easy target. Within
about an hour, all of them were dead or fled from the battlefield. While I
was organizing a pursuit of the scattered enemy forces, I received a Trump
call from His Majesty.

"I need help defending Arden," he said. "Do you have any troops?"

"Not many," I said, "but those I have are yours."

"Good," he said, seeming a bit tired. "Not everyone has been as successful as
you seem to have been."

I called out to my men--those who remained--that His Majesty had further need
of our services. Brave lads, all of them. Although they were all dead tired
and some were wounded, they got back on their horses and came over to me. I
passed them through the Trump, then came through myself. We were in Forest
Arden, where, apparently, thousands of Chaos troops were scattered about in
no clear order. Most of my regiment was there, along with other units. I
gathered together a goodly force and we went hunting demons. It was just like
old times in Garnath, only this time they were the hunted.  Soon Connor
arrived, beset by thirty or so demons. We dispatched them. He seemed to
attract them like moths to a flame, so we stayed to protect him. He threw
attack spells here and there while we fended off their charges. After perhaps
twenty minutes of hot fighting, a large contingent of Lancers arrived to
reinforce us. We slew all of the nearby enemy, formed into an organized unit,
and began roving through Arden.  Within an hour, there were no more demons to
be found; in fact, we argued twice with other forces over who got to chase
down one or another defiant clump of them.

Finally, we heard that Oberon wanted family members and unit commanders to go
to his command post. As I fell into both of those categories, I made
arrangements for the disposition of the troops and made my way to where he
had his throne set up in front of a tent. I heard a rumor that he, apparently
angry that a Chaos army had penetrated into Arden, had personally attacked
Julian and injured him. I arrived near the tent as a Oberon oversaw the
execution of a group of prisoners. Although I have every reason to hate them,
I was still uncomfortable with killing prisoners. Perhaps it would look dif-
ferent if I sat in His Majesty's seat.

Soon Oberon called everyone to order, as a large and rambunctious crowd had
gath- ered. He introduced Martin, Random's son, who was the Ambassador to
Chaos. Martin told of the demotion of House Hendrake to commoner status. The
leaders of Hendrake, figuring they had nothing to lose, had decided to attack
Amber in a desperate gamble.  They had failed, and all of Hendrake was
dead. He wondered how we should speak of this to the Lords of Chaos.

"Any opinions?" asked Oberon. "Shall we just say it was nothing?"

There ensued a discussion in which some, myself included, wanted to pretend
that nothing had happened. Others, led by Zack, were afraid that they would
be insulted by our brashness in ignoring the attack.  May the Unicorn save us
from diplomats.

Finally, it was decided that Martin would not mention the attack and that, if
asked, he would give as little information as possible. Then he Trumped out.

"It looks like we've sustained some losses," said Oberon, "but I believe a
victory party is in order." There was a cheer and most everyone went back
toward Kolvir. Bleys headed off through Arden with some troops, no doubt
pursuing some plot, while Julian stayed to organize the cleanup. He seemed
wrathful; no one wanted to be in range of his vin- dictive temper just then,
so no one stayed.

I rode back to the castle and went straight to my room. After disposing of my
ruined uniform, I scraped off layers of ichor and gore. I got a medic to
stitch up a couple of nasty cuts, then took a long, hot bath. While I soaked
I counted the losses. Of twenty- five Lancers who embarked on the drunken
sailing expedition, fourteen were dead: Hans, Narven, Salaris, Thikajok,
Njal, Edward, Komoko, Elaine, Chai Ko, Dalime, Boriven, Harista, and Izhik. I
had known several of them well, especially Njal, who had a wife, Francesca,
and two twin boys. I remember their wedding, and I remember the night his
sons were born. Others I had known not at all. I know they were brave and
they followed me and they fought well and I got them killed. Without me they
would have been in the fighting, and perhaps some of them would have died
anyway.  I sat in my bath for a long time and drank cognac and
remembered. Then I got up and dressed in my best uniform for the party. I had
a message sent to Serena, requesting the honor of accompanying her to this
event. A note returned saying that she had had a date, but that she would
break it. When she arrived her dress was a perfect match for the crimson
shade of my uniform. It was an elegant gown in several shades of red and
russet, with quite a low neckline. Her hair was up and decorated with pearls,
as were her neck and ears. She was stunning.

When we made our entrance we found that many of the guests had already
arrived.  Oberon and Clarissa looked relaxed and comfortable
together. Benedict stood behind them, a glow of warm confidence upon his
long, usually dour countenance. I heard later that he had single-handedly
stopped three separate attacks. Flora had clearly been giving Fiona fashion
advice, as she was attired with much greater panache than was her usual
wont. Flora herself was, naturally, radiant, in a crimson gown that displayed
just the right amount of cleavage. Paolo looked dashing in a Lancer's
uniform. Perhaps he had joined the regiment after all.

I noticed K'rin laughing loudly with a man who looked much like her
father. They were dressed in matching sable and emerald green. Perhaps she
has some sort of thing for her daddy. Gerard came in, not dressed in his
customary admiral's uniform. Looking grim, he marched up to K'rin and tried
to give her a bundle, presumably containing said uniform. I didn't hear the
conversation but it appeared that she was unwilling to accept it.

We danced for some time before dinner, looking, I am sure, quite fine
together. I remember little of dinner conversation as the food was delicious
and I was famished.  Afterward, while Serene conducted some of her dreary
diplomatic business, I went over to high table and chatted with Cassandra.
Pearl, I learned from her, is a kingdom. There is a castle at the center,
although Cassandra did not know its name. There are many duchies and
baronies. There are other shadows and some sort of inter-shadow commerce of
the sort that Amber prac- tices with the Golden Circle. Darhyse, her "pet
cat" is a type of creature called a Sha'um; they are pack animals that
communicate telepathically and have the ability to walk in Shadow. Corwin had
sent Cassandra with Darhyse to Amber, but she had met with Mikail on the
way. Soon thereafter, they encountered us on our failed expedition to find
Caine.

We discussed the possibility of going to Pearl, and soon decided that we
would travel there in a few days. I wanted to meet Corwin, who could be my
father.  Serena came by and I introduced her to Cassandra, who liked her
immediately. We brought Cassandra over to meet her brother Merlin. He was
sitting in a corner with a thin woman, whom he introduced as the princess of
something or other. They both seemed rather distant; Merlin hardly spoke to
his sister. I said we were planning on traveling to Pearl and asked if he had
any message for his father.

"There is a barrier," he said. "It prevents entry to Pearl."

"Have you crossed this barrier?" I asked.

"No. That was a risk I have not been willing to endure."

"Have you spoken with him lately?" asked Cassandra.

"No."

"So you can Trump him?" I asked. Corwin had not responded to anyone else's
Trump calls in a very long time.

"No. Trump can't reach Pearl, but I have a means of communication."

He would not elaborate further, and it became clear that Merlin and his lady
would rather be alone together. We left them so.  Serena whispered to me that
she really can't stand him.

Cassandra said that she was tired and wanted to go to bed. We bid her
goodnight.  Later, Serena and I went for a walk in the garden. After
stumbling past several secluded spots that were already occupied, we found a
dark niche of our own. I found that it was easier to remove her dress than it
appeared.

The next morning we slept late in my room. Around eleven Serena left, saying
she had an appointment that she could not miss. I ordered a cup of cocoa and
caught up on this journal.

 * * *

After breakfast I went to the upper town to speak with Njal's wife
Francesca. She had already been told of his death. She was quietly
distraught, clearly trying to be brave for her boys. I said what little that
I could and tried to comfort her. If she or the boys needed anything, I told
her, I would be pleased to help. She thanked me hollowly.  Soon, feeling
uncomfortable and guilty, I left.

 Later I rode back to the castle. I inquired of the servants regarding the
whereabouts of Valeria, and they told me she was at the archery range. I went
there and watched her shoot for awhile, noting her impressive skill. When she
was done, I applauded. She smiled.

We exchanged pleasantries. "I heard that you are known as a composer," I told
her, "and I would like to ask a favor."

"Yes?"

"I would like to commission a song for some of my friends who died in the
recent battle."

"I see. What do you offer in return?"

"My lady cousin, I would owe you a great favor."

"Done," she said. "Who are the people I am to write about?"

I told her the story of the last two days, from the revelry at the Fire and
Brimstone tavern to the battle in Arden. I told her the names of the fallen
and asked her to memorialize them in song. She told me it would take her some
time, but that she would see what she could come up with. I thanked her and
left.

Lunch was, at first, unremarkable. Oberon was absent, but Clarissa assumed
her now- accustomed seat beside his. Then she stood and made an announcement.

"I have decided," she said when she had gotten everyone's attention, "that I
do not wish to be queen. Therefore, it will be necessary to find a
replacement. I will be interviewing candidates for the position after
lunch. Thank you."

I had some difficulty controlling my laughter long enough to make my exit (I
am sure that she would have no tolerance for my amusement and might turn me
into some- thing awful if she witnessed it). When I made it a safe distance I
spent several minutes convulsed with laughter. How utterly ridiculous!

When I was fully composed I returned and finished my lunch. The hall was
abuzz with rumors regarding Clarissa's intentions and the chances of various
candidates. I didn't listen. Later I went and had a sauna. Then I wandered
the castle, lost in thought, and happened to go into one of the libraries. I
spotted Merlin engaged in some research. After the snub last night I tried to
ignore him, but he called out to me.

"Malachai, last night you said you were interested in sending Corwin a
message," he said.

"No," I replied. "I said that I would be going to Pearl with Cassandra and
asked if you had a message for him."

"Well, that sounds interesting," he said. "Would you mind if I came along?"

"No. I have no objection. I'll talk with Cassandra about it and get back to
you."

"Good. I will talk to you later, then." He stood, shelved the book he had
been reading, and left.  I dithered about for the rest of the afternoon. I
looked for Cassandra, but could not find her. Later on, I went to dinner. I
noticed a group of insipid-looking women sitting around a table and trying to
catch the attention of the Clarissa. These must be the applicants. Clarissa
ignored them.

I sat with Merlin, who was considerably friendlier than he had been the night
before.  We discussed the vapid applicants, whom we soon began referring to
as VA's, specu- lating upon what they might be willing to do in order to win
Clarissa's approval. We wandered about and spread some wicked rumors.

After dinner, I chatted with Cassandra. "I spoke with Merlin today," I
said. "He's inter- ested in coming with us to Pearl."

"I don't think he really likes me," she said.

"He was distracted, I think. He can be much nicer than that."

"I guess..."

"I'll ask him to talk with you sometime."

"OK," she said, uncertainly.

"So when would you like to leave?" I asked.

"Well, I'm having fun here..."

"A couple of days? A week? A month?"

"Can I let you know?"

"Sure," I said. "What have you been doing in Amber?"

"Exploring the castle. There are lots of places behind the walls."

"I know. There are some places that seem to be different every time you go
there."

"Wow."

We chatted for awhile longer, then she said she had to find Darhyse, who was
off playing with K'rin and Raven. I don't want to think about what they might
consider "playing."

I retired fairly early. I took another bath, then sat down and caught up on
this journal.  I am finding it an excellent way to clarify my thoughts on the
complicated maneu- verings that have characterized the scene here in Amber of
late.

 * * *

The next morning I got a note from Serena. She said that she had a small
problem and asked if I could help her with a local matter of
politics. Politics, pfooie. I finished my breakfast and got dressed. It
seemed that I must give all in service to my lady. I dressed comfortably in
loose dark-red trousers with riding boots, a purple cotton shirt, and a
wide-brimmed felt hat with red feather in the brim. I pocketed an apple left
over from breakfast and made my way to the stables. There I met Bucephalus,
who reminded me that I had been neglecting him recently. I apologized and
gave him the apple. He seemed mollified, but made it clear that he would not
be so forgiving were I to repeat my offense in the future. I saddled him and
we made our way down into the city. I reflected on the weather, which was, as
always, pleasant. I wish there were real weather here--storms and snow, heat
and cold, sleet and hail. Then a day like this would be remarkable and
thereby more enjoyable.

We arrived at Serena's house and I placed Bucephalus in the care of a
servant. They looked at each other warily and decided that they could, at
least, have a professional relationship. While they continued negotiations, I
made my way into the foyer.  Through the doors of Serena's study, I heard a
heated argument in progress. Entering, I discovered two men in the dress of
wealthy merchants engaged in a stormy discussion related to grapes and
wine. How tiresome.

Serena sat at her desk before them, looking monumentally bored. At my
appearance, she smiled and said, "Welcome, Prince Malachai." Upon hearing my
title, they looked at me and the pace of their argument slowed somewhat.

"What is this?" I asked her.

"It seems that these two gentlemen have a dispute over some wine."

"A pastime in which I too have been known to indulge."

"Disputes over wine? No, these gentlemen have a disagreement over selling
wine. You see, this fellow planted vines on this other fellow's land. Now
that the grapes have been harvested, producing a remarkable vintage, each
claims the right to the wine."

Both began correcting her, presenting their own sides of the story. I shushed
them and they quieted.

"They are waiting for my father," she continued, "as they are both natives of
my home shadow. When he returns, they want him to give them a judgment on the
matter."  "So they do not accept your authority to make a ruling in your
father's stead?" Serena had recently told me that her father's death was not
known in her home shadow. She had delayed telling the authorities of his
demise because she despised the man who would replace him.

"No. I am only my father's assistant."

"Then what are they doing here arguing in your house?"

"Waiting for my father. I have explain that he will not be returning for
several days, but they insist on staying until he arrives." She got a little
sparkle in her eye. "However, I might point out that the law allows a member
of the Amber royal family, such as yourself, to step in and make a ruling on
any civil dispute of this nature."

At this, the disputants fell silent.  "In fact," she continued, "you may make
any decision you wish regarding the contested property, even to confiscating
it yourself." She winked at me.

Each of the vintners protested vehemently, but Serena quickly recited a list
of applica- ble laws and legal precedents.

"In that case," I said, "would you find it convenient if I offered my
services as an im- partial arbitrator?"

Over the continued protests of the vintners, she said, "It would be most
convenient, Your Highness."

"Very well, I think I can clear this up rather quickly. Do you have any
device by which we can measure a duration of about five minutes?"

An egg timer was produced. I flipped a coin and pointed to the
landowner. "You're first. You have five minutes to present your case."

Looking fearful, he told me how he had, by long-standing family tradition,
kept a cer- tain plot of land fallow for a decade. Recently, he discovered
that the other fellow had grown grapes on this land and made it into
wine. Since the land was his, he said, he should have the wine. I cut him off
when the timer went off, then listened to his opponent. He told me how he,
noticing an unused chunk of land, had spent several years ploughing and
fertilizing it. Several years' grapes had been dismal failures, but he had
persevered. When the grapes had finally turned up good, he had carefully har-
vested them and...

Time was up. They both started talking again; I told them to be silent. Then
I thought for a moment.

My course was clear. "Since both of you have contributed to this product, one
through labor and the other through property, you shall share in the
benefits. All profits will be divided between you equally. Good day,
gentlemen."

They wanted to argue some more, but I made it clear that if they did not
consider the matter closed, then I would have to confiscate the wine
myself. That shut them up.  Serena summoned an official, who agreed to
preside over the division of the wine in exchange for a small percentage. The
two vintners, transferring the object of their harangue to him, left.

"Thank you, Malachai."

"It was my pleasure to be of service, Madame."

"What are your plans for the rest of the day?" she asked.

"Why, my lady, I have none."

She got that gleam in her eye again. "Then what say you to a walk in the
garden?"

This was a garden we had walked before. It had several comfortable and
secluded spots where we had made scientific studies of a biological nature.

"I say yes, for there is nothing I would rather do. After our walk, perhaps
we might go riding in Garnath."

"A fine idea. I shall have a picnic lunch packed. If you would be so kind as
to wait while I change out of these clothes." She was dressed fetchingly, if
uncomfortably, in a formal dress from her native shadow.

"But of course."

Serena left and soon returned in more practical garb. Her hair was braided
and she wore knee-length riding boots and back riding pants. A blousy shirt
of white silk, a blue vest, and an opal brooch completed her outfit. I gazed
upon her admiringly for a moment before offering her my arm. We strolled
slowly out to the garden where we willed away an hour with continued
attention to our studies.

Later, we took Bucephalus and her tan mare on a tour of southeast Garnath. We
stopped by the river, ate lunch, and had a swim. We had just dressed when a
trooper in the uniform of the 1st Lancers rode up. He identified himself as a
messenger from Captain Prospero, and handed me a note. More politics.

The note concerned events at lunch in the Castle. It seemed that Clarissa had
told Oberon about her plan for selecting the next queen. He had shown no
clear reaction.  Then Llwella had introduced Romar, King of a shadow called
Awol, which was newly admitted to the Golden Circle. Romar would take charge
of Amber's maritime defenses.  Prospero had thought I'd be interested in
these developments.

I was pleased by neither bit of news. That His Majesty would continue to
allow Clarissa to so blatantly direct the affairs of state was quite
disturbing. That he would entrust the defenses of Amber to a shadow-dweller
from an unknown kingdom seemed absurd. There did not seem to be anything I
could do at this time, however. I thanked the messenger and sent him off
without a reply.

We sat by the river for another hour, then made our way back in a leisurely
manner.  Once back at the castle I inquired as to Cassandra's whereabouts,
since I wanted to talk with her about our expedition to Pearl. A servant told
me that a large cat had been spotted somewhere up Kolvir toward the Grove of
the Unicorn. I thanked her and Serena and I made our way up the path in that
direction.  It was eventide, just after sunset, when we spotted Darhyse with
a small person and a man obscured by shadows at the side of the path. As we
rode closer, it became clear that the person of small stature was Cassandra,
but our view of the man was blocked, perhaps by magic.

"Were you sent to look for us?" asked Cassandra.

"No," I told her, "we were looking for you because I wanted to talk to
you. Who is your companion?"

"Merlin."  He stepped out from his shadow. "Hello Malachai. Serena."

"I'm glad we met you," said Cassandra. "Merlin and I were talking about going
to Pearl and I was wondering if the two of you wanted to come along?"

The two of us? I hadn't considered taking Serena. I wasn't sure that I would
be com- fortable exposing her to that kind of danger.

"What do you think, Serena?"

"I'd like to go."

Drat. "It could be very dangerous."

"I'm sure that you would protect me," she said. Merlin snickered almost
imperceptibly.

Accepting defeat, I said, "Well, if you want to come, and Cassandra and
Merlin agree, then I cannot object."

We chatted for a bit. It appeared that Cassandra and Merlin had worked out
their dif- ferences. Soon we were met by Zack and two ladies, strolling up
the path. We exchanged pleasantries and court gossip, then the three of them
continued on their way, perhaps in pursuit of more private conversation.

"So," I asked, "when shall we leave? Tomorrow?"

"How about the day after," said Cassandra. "I have an appointment."

"Suits me," Merlin said.

"Fine," Serena said.

"Then it's settled."

Serena, Cassandra, and I decided to go down to the castle for dinner. Merlin
wanted to stay and enjoy the night air. As we prepared to leave, he bowed low
to Serena.

We rode down the hill. Soon we encountered a person at the crossroads leading
to the Grove of the Unicorn. He was so large that at first I thought him to
be Gerard, but as we came closer he turned out to be Oberon.

"Good evening, my family," he said, "and possible family to be." He winked at
Serena.  We greeted him. Just what I need, I thought: Oberon deciding to run
my life the way Clarissa was apparently running his.

"I had been on my way to gain the counsel of the Unicorn, but it seems
counsel has been handed me. I have been very busy, and I just got to the
scroll given me by Cassandra. I must go quickly to Pearl, as it seems Corwin
has found Caine and is in need of assistance. I do not have time to go
myself, however.  I would like you to make the journey for me. Once there,
you can Trump me through."

"Merlin believes that Trump do not work between here and Pearl," I
said. "There is some sort of barrier."

"Then you may need to Trump me before you pass it," he said.

"Where in Pearl do you need to go?" asked Cassandra.

"I believe I need to be at Corwin's Pattern."

"Then perhaps you should speak with my father."

"It was he who invited me."

"Oh."

"As you may know, we had planned on going there ourselves," I said. "Our
intention was to leave the day after tomorrow."

"Sooner would be better," he said.

"In that case," I asked," may we leave tomorrow morning, or is it necessary
that we leave tonight?"

"I believe I have wasted enough time that a night's further delay won't
matter," he said.

"Very well," I said, we will leave in the morning. If you will give us your
leave to depart, we shall go and make preparations."

"I'll go talk to Merlin," said Cassandra. "I'll meet you at dinner."

Serena and I bade farewell to Oberon and Cassandra. After they were out of
earshot, she said, "Given the urgency of the mission, perhaps I shouldn't
go."

I was unsure of how to reply. On the one hand, the mission might be dangerous
and I might not be able to protect her. On the other hand, I would like to
have her go and did not want to insult her by telling her that I didn't think
she could take care of her- self.

"I will leave that to your judgment," I said.

"Well, I would like to stay in your company, but Oberon may not want me to
go."

"He didn't forbid it," I told her. "If you would like to go, then you are
welcome."

"Very well, " she said, "I will go."

"All right," I said. "This must seem very sudden. Are there preparations you
should make? Your staff..."

"I'm sure they can handle things. In fact, I will tell them that we are
leaving tonight and meet you at your rooms later. That would be simpler."

We leered at each other. "Very well," I said. "It shall be as you say." By
then we had arrived at the castle. We said farewell and she headed down to
the city. I stabled Bucephalus, promising him that we would go on a trip
tomorrow. Then I went to dinner.

When I entered the dining hall Mikail called me over. He said that he was
going off with K'rin, Zack, Rivka, Valeria, and Paolo on an expedition to
look for Caine.  Suddenly my Amberite instincts, long dormant, came to the
fore. I did not tell him that we also would be looking for Caine. Nor did I
inquire why he was taking Rivka, who, so far as anyone knew, was just a
servant girl.

"Is this your idea or is someone sending you on this mission?" I asked.

"Oberon's. I offered to provide some lessons for the others and Caine seemed
like a good destination. I hear you are off on some other excursion?"

"Yes," I said. "Merlin, Cassandra, Serena, and I are going to Pearl."

"Very good. I've never been there, myself."

"So where are you planning to look for Caine?"

"I figured that Caine might be beyond Shadow. So that's where we'll go."

"Beyond Shadow? What could be beyond Shadow?"

He told me of a place called the Sea of Chance. It was, he said, a vast
place, constantly shifting. One must be careful to avoid being caught in the
constant changes that occur there. An Amberite might possibly survive due to
the influence of the Pattern, but he wasn't sure.

"I do not volunteer myself as an experimental subject," I said. He chuckled.

We continued to chat. The first step, he said, would be to acquire a vessel,
such as the one in which we had first encountered him. If possible, he would
borrow a better one, called Dalkontyr, from his mother.

Cassandra and Darhyse came into the room. She waved at us and went over to
talk to Fiona and Darkstar. She must have said something hilarious, because
Fiona was soon on the floor, convulsed with laughter. Soon she and Darhyse
came over to visit us.

"What was so funny?" I asked.

"Oh," said Cassandra, looking embarrassed. "Fiona thought I was talking about
some- thing, but I was really talking about something else."

Mikail snorted. "Redheads have dirty minds."

K'rin made her entrance at that point. I usually find her brash but bearable,
but tonight she was obnoxious. When Mikail started to tell Cassandra that
purpose of his trip would be to help train the others, she thought it
ridiculous that he might have anything to teach her.

"I am older than you, you know," she sneered.

Cassandra was quite offended. "Are you getting stupid in your old age?" she
asked K'rin.

I don't think K'rin knew how to deal with an insult from a child. She walked
off in a huff.

Valeria came over and said hello. She had a sheaf of papers that, apparently,
were a section of Paolo's journal. He had given them to Oberon, who had
allowed the others who were going with Mikail to read it. I asked if I might
look it over, and Valeria gave it to me. Since Mikail wanted to take it with
him (they were to leave an hour after dinner), I read it there. It was about
30 pages long, documenting a "lesson" in shadow provided by Clarissa to Paolo
and Mikail. It sounded quite nasty; I'm glad she's not my mother.

Later, Cassandra and I met them at the stables to see them off. Mikail
explained that their first destination was the Courts of Chaos, where they
would acquire Dalkontyr.  One of Clarissa's vapid applicants arrived, then
shapeshifted into Paolo. He had, appar- ently, been amusing himself among
them. He seems to absorb the identity of those around him; first a lancer,
now one of those foolish women. Cassandra arrived with Darhyse, who was again
in the shape of a small stuffed bunny. Cassandra carried a bottle of wine,
which she presented to Mikail as a going-away present.

Mikail thanked her solemnly. "I too have a present for each of you," he
said. Then he passed out amulets of black obsidian on silver chains. I
examined mine and found it, unsurprisingly, to be quite a nice piece.

Mikail showed that he wore one also. "They are protective devices," he
said. "Worn in contact with the skin, they afford a significant degree of
invulnerability."

"Against what?" I asked.

"Many things," he said vaguely.

"Then perhaps it would be better to say that they give resistance, not
invulnerability."  Maybe I was splitting hairs.

"As you say," he said.

He demonstrated that if one turned the jewel in a certain manner, a large
black cloak formed around the wearer that could protect two or three people.
I pulled out my dagger and found that, while wearing the pendant, I could not
cut myself with it. I pulled out Galantine and, cutting myself on the arm,
was pleased to find that I was not proof against her superior steel. I
noticed Mikail appraising my sword and thought that it might have been wiser
if I had performed my experiment in private, since he now had a better idea
of my capabilities. Oh, well, I am not yet as paranoid as most of my family.

I thanked him for the present.

"You're welcome." He held out another. "This one is for your lady."

"Good. Then I won't have to give her mine. Thanks again."

Mikail offered one to Darhyse, but she didn't seem interested. Then two
winged balls appeared out of the night.

"Those are Clarissa's eyes and ears," Mikail said wearily. "They will follow
and keep tabs on us."

Paolo produced a net and threw it over one; it fell to the ground.

"If we anger Clarissa, then Dalkontyr might not be there when we try to pick
him up," Mikail pointed out.

Paolo shrugged. He clapped and the net sprang back into his hand. A neat
trick. "We'll get rid of them after we have Dalkontyr," he said.

Mikail agreed.

Then they were off. We waved goodbye as they made their way off into the
night, then headed back to the castle ourselves.

"Goodnight, Malachai," Cassandra said. "Come to my rooms in the morning. We
can all have breakfast before we leave."

"All right," I said. "Goodnight."

I went to my rooms. While waiting for Serena to arrive, I have caught up on
this jour- nal. I hope she gets here soon.

 * * *

That evening, as I wrote in this journal, I heard a knock at the
door. Opening it, I saw a servant boy. "I'm here with clean linen, sir," he
said.

"Just put it in the closet," I told him, turning back to my writing.

He came in and headed toward the bed.  "I said just..." There before me was
Serena, dressed as the boy had been.

"How did you...?" I asked dumbly.

She smiled, took a ring out of her pocket, and put it on her
finger. Instantly, she transformed into a boy. He had Serena's general
features and coloring, but with a defi- nite masculine cast.

"That's quite a trick," I said. "What is that."

"A magic ring," she said. "It's a family heirloom."

"Does it shapeshift you or cast some sort of glamour?"

"Shapeshift," she said.

"Does it have other forms?"

"It doesn't work like that. It changes you into what you would look like if
you were the opposite gender. I got it from an uncle who's female form is
quite an imposing old woman."

"Interesting," I said.

"Care to try?" she said, proffering the ring.

"All right." I took the ring from her and put it on. There was a momentary
feeling of oddness, as if my skin were infested with cobwebs, and then I had
changed. My body felt different; I was smaller and could feel curves I was
unfamiliar with. It was very strange. I found it intriguing and disturbing,
but unlike the changes I experienced when I was captured by the
Hendrakes. Although, I thought, I would like to experi- ment with this later,
for now it was rather too much. I took the ring off.

"Do you have any other little tricks I should be aware of?" I asked.

She smiled lasciviously.  "I mean magical items."

"Oh." She dimpled. "Well, there is this." She reached into her bag and pulled
out a wineskin. "Try some."

I sampled it. "Not a bad vintage, but nothing special," I said.

"How much wine is in the skin?" she asked.

"Why it's...completely full."

"Yes. It stays full no matter how much you drink."

"That could prove useful on a long journey. I have something for you." I
said.

"Oh, really. How thoughtful."

"Actually, it's a present from Mikail." I showed her the pendant he had given
me for her and the matching piece that I wore.

"Very nice work," she said, examining hers. "I didn't know he was such a
craftsman."

"There is more to it than that. It provides a magical protection from
physical harm." I took out my dagger and demonstrated its inability to cut
me.

"How wonderful," she said. She borrowed my dagger and tried on herself.

"The protection is not universal. Galantine can cut through it, for example,
as she is an extraordinary blade."

"I'm sure you will protect me," she said. When I explained that I couldn't
protect her from everything, she wouldn't hear of it. I hope that attitude
doesn't get her killed.

I also showed her how, when the stone was given a one-quarter turn
widdershins, it created a voluminous black cloak that could provide
protection to two or three people.

I wrote a note to Colonel Prospero informing him that my duties for the
foreseeable future would be even more detached from the regiment than they
normally were. I spent the rest of the evening packing and talking with
Serena. She had much less knowledge of the Patternfall War than I would have
thought. Having heard the his- tory from my relatives, I had never considered
the possibility that the facts were not well known. She had no idea what
Pearl was or how it came to be. I spent a couple of hours telling her about
the war and the parts played by various members of the royal family while I
was imprisoned.

We went to bed late, quite tired, and just slept. The next day, we woke up
early, got dressed, and went over to Cassandra's room. I carried the
saddlebags I had packed the night before. Cassandra was up and Merlin was
there already. She had arranged for a saddlebags to be packed for each of
us. We decided to take them all.

After a full breakfast, we headed down to the stables with our equipment. I
saddled Bucephalus while Merlin picked out an experienced horse (apparently
one of Eric's) and Serena got a horse from her family's stock. Cassandra rode
Darhyse.

We headed out into Arden. We met a patrol shortly after entering the
forest. They asked us our business, warned us about manticores, and wished us
a pleasant journey.  After about an hour of easy riding, we heard horns being
blown in the distance. Julian was hunting today. Soon they became louder and
it became clear that the hunt was headed in our direction. Merlin, who was
leading the group, changed our course to avoid them. Soon we heard the baying
of hounds and it became apparent that at least some of Julian's dogs had
picked up our scent. I noticed that Darhyse seemed to be getting larger,
probably as part of her shapeshifting abilities. In a few moments one
hellhound bounded into the clearing we were crossing. I maneuvered so that
Bucephalus and I were between the dog and Serena. It bounded past us,
straight toward Darhyse, who had by then grown to almost twice her normally
large size. They snapped at each other once or twice, then Darhyse leapt
forward and snatched the hound up in her mouth, biting it across the
torso. The hound screamed as Darhyse pulled it off its feet and held it
almost gently. It struggled for a few moments, then gave up.

Other hounds circled, baying and snarling. I drew Galantine and guarded
Serena, but none came close. Darhyse held the now-terrified hound in her huge
jaws and lashed out with her claws at any others that darted near. Soon
Julian rode Morgenstern into the clearing, calling his hounds back. He rode
up to Cassandra and Darhyse.

"Well," he said, looking us over. "It seems we have caught some rabbits who
turned out to have fangs." He gave Cassandra a look of mock contrition. "May
I have my hound back, please?"

Darhyse, giving Morgenstern a meaningful look, put the animal down across the
horn of his saddle. It had a neat pattern of teeth marks across its body,
bleeding only slightly. Darhyse looked meaningfully at Morgenstern and licked
his face before backing away slightly. Morgenstern seemed distraught.

Julian traded his usual sharp witticisms with us for a moment before the rest
of his party arrived. It contained Clarissa and a coterie of her vapid
applicants trying uncom- fortably to stay upon their horses. She rode up and
gave greeting to us all, seemingly amused at Julian's catch.  "Poor puppies,"
she said, gesturing to the hellhounds. "Too stupid not to bite things bigger
than them."

She asked our destination and we explained. Smiling as if to say she had
known it all along (and I am sure she had), she reached into her saddlebags
and retrieved a small package. Handing it to Cassandra, she asked that she
give it to Corwin. Cassandra agreed to do so.

Then Clarissa looked at Serena. "What a lovely lady you have," she said to
me.

"I think so, too." I replied, nervous at the thought that Clarissa had taken
notice of Serena.

"Didn't you want to be queen of Amber?" she asked Serena.

"No," she said. "That would be either above or below my station. Above for
you, below for some others." She looked pointedly at the vapids.

While they were talking, I noticed that Merlin had quietly killed three
hellhounds with his blade. Another came sniffing too close to Darhyse and she
caught it up in her mouth, this time holding its entire head within her
jaws. It struggled for a few moments and began to cry mournfully. Julian
asked for that one back also, and at a word from Cassandra Darhyse laid it,
whimpering, across Morgenstern's back.

At that we bid them goodbye and they wished us a good journey. My family is
quite astounding sometimes in their shameless perversion of manners.

Our journey was basically uneventful. Merlin led the whole way, since he had
been their before and could apparently travel in Shadow much more quickly
than Darhyse.  We stopped several times to eat and stretch our legs (Merlin
exhibiting the typical endurance and appetite of and Amberite). On one stop
we went for a swim (except Serena, who wanted to take a nap, and Darhyse, who
hated to get wet). When we took off our clothes, it became apparent that
Cassandra was considerably more, well, devel- oped than the 11- or 12-year
old we had thought her to be. She looked more like 18 or so, but short enough
to pass for 12 in the loose clothing she had worn in Amber. When I asked her
about it afterward, she confessed that she had allowed everyone to think she
was a child because she thought she might be safer that way. I allowed that
it may have been a prudent decision.

Finally, Merlin said we had gone as far as he could take us. Cassandra asked
Darhyse to lead us to where we can contact her father. Darhyse walked four
paces further, then sat down.

"I think this is it," said Cassandra. She pulled out her deck of Trump and
selected Corwin's. She made contact, spoke with him for a moment, then ended
the conversation.  Then she got out Oberon's Trump. She achieved contact,
apparently found him busy, and waited a few moments. When she pulled him
through he was clutching a huge leg of lamb, of which he promptly took a
bite. He greeted us while Cassandra again Trumped her father. She spoke with
him, then passed Oberon through. A few minutes later, the man I had last seen
a captive of Eric's troops appeared.  He looked tired. Haggard even. Weakly,
he hugged Cassandra, said hello to Merlin, and was introduced to Serena and
me. He was dressed in his usual black and silver.

I shook his hand and said, "I have heard that you've found Caine."

"Actually, he found my Pattern."

"How so?" I asked.

"He decided that what he seeks is on the other side of my Pattern. So with
his usual arrogance he decided to walk it. He got almost halfway along before
he realized he couldn't make it and got scared, I think, for the first time
in his life. He tried to turn around and get off."

"And he's still alive after that?" I asked.

"I've been feeding him strength to keep him alive. He has been stuck there,
in a state of paralysis, since then. Now Oberon is dealing with it. By the
way, do you have anything to eat? It's been quite exhausting."

"Of course," I said. We all dug into our supplies and gave him various things
to eat and drink. He ate like he had not eaten in days. Perhaps he hadn't.

"Can't you Trump him off?" I asked.

"No," he said. "My Pattern seems to want to keep him."

He finished his meal. "I should warn you that you will not find it pleasant
on the other side of the barrier. Those who have walked Amber's Pattern lose
all of their powers within my realm. It is quite disconcerting."

He looked at Merlin. "It will affect you, too, although you can still walk it
if you want."

"I'm not sure what that will do, Perhaps some other time."

"I have but recently walked the Pattern," I said. "I am sure that it won't
bother me to be without it for awhile."

"There's more to it than that," Corwin said. "There is a feeling of mental
static that comes over you. It induces headaches and a certain amount of
confusion."

He turned to Serena. "You, of course, will have no difficulty, my Lady." She
smiled.

"When we go, each of you must be touching me or be touching someone who is
touching me. It has something to do with conductance."

We created a chain, flesh to flesh, including the horses, and walked
forward. There was a feeling of disorientation, a bit like losing one's
balance. Or like being wrapped in cotton. It didn't go away. Shadows shifted
rapidly, and soon we were standing on a barren plane. Ahead of us was a large
tree, almost leafless.  Before it lay a Pattern. It looked familiar and alien
at the same time; it was hard to look at. Oberon stood at the tree, and
someone, presumably Caine, stood wreathed in flame about halfway along the
Pattern.

Corwin spoke to Cassandra for a moment and she walked over to a spot that
seemed no different than any other nearby spot. She knocked, as if at a door,
and a door opened. It hung in midair, a smallish fellow peered out. Cassandra
seemed to be placing an order. Chairs and a table appeared. Apparently
self-animated, they walked by themselves over to us. I pointed to a spot, and
a chair walked over and stopped there.  Serena followed suit, and got another
chair. A third chair stopped before Bucephalus and rocked back and forth,
apparently waiting for a command. The table arranged itself before us,
covered in a variety of foods. Cassandra sat down with us while Corwin and
Merlin went over to talk with Oberon.

The food was all right but the wine was terrible. Serena pulled out her magic
wineskin and we shared its contents with Cassandra. Serena, apparently
concerned that she was in the presence of royalty in travel clothes, pulled a
more formal ensemble from her bags. She caused her pendant to produce a black
cloak and changed underneath it. I told her it was unnecessary, since she
looked wonderful in anything, and she hushed me.

I walked over to where Oberon, Merlin, and Corwin were talking. They were
using some sort of mathematical language that I could not decipher. After a
moment I realized that the tree was also participating in the discussion. I
listened for a few min- utes, then headed back to the ladies.  They had
decided to go explore. There didn't seem to be much to see, but I agreed to
take a walk with them. We picked a direction at random and walked. There
seemed to be nothing but sand for miles. We walked in a wide loop around the
Pattern. As we got further from the Pattern, the fuzzy feeling induced by
this place got stronger.

Eventually, we heard a "halloo!" from out in the dunes. It was an unkempt
fellow named Seth who was, apparently bringing supplies to Corwin by pulling
a sleigh across the sand. Cassandra knew him and they chatted about home. He
mentioned something about "the war" before continuing on toward Corwin. I
asked Cassandra about it, but she wouldn't talk. We decided that there
probably wasn't anything inter- esting out here and went back to the Pattern.
Cassandra remembered the package Clarissa had given her and presented to
Corwin.  He opened it, looked at the card it contained, and cursed. He went
off for a moment and came back with Darkstar, Fiona's demonic friend. They
seemed to know each other.  Darkstar also seemed to know Merlin, at least by
reputation. He greeted Merlin with a string of titles that I would not
attempt to reproduce even were I able to remember them. Merlin returned the
compliment with another endless string of titles. Having demonstrated that
they were both vastly important back in Chaos, they joined the others, who
had resumed their technical discussion of Pattern mechanics.

I laid out a folded blanket under my head and dozed while Serena chatted with
Cassandra and Seth. After perhaps an hour, they achieved some sort of
solution. Caine disappeared. Everyone shook hands all around and partook of
the banquet arranged on the table. Oberon drank what must have been several
gallons in one toss of Serena's magic wineskin.

"Perhaps I missed something," I said. "Where exactly is Caine?"

"Recovering," said Oberon, without further explanation.

"Who would like to come to Pearl?" said Corwin, brandishing a Trump depicting
a castle.

All of us agreed except Oberon, who said he had to look after Caine. Soon we
had all Trumped through. The castle at Pearl was less a fortification than a
palace styled like a castle. It looked comfortable and pretty, if not
protective. We stood about halfway up a gentle slope leading to it. Within
moments, a lovely young lady appeared and hugged Cassandra, who introduced
her as Alyss. She was apparently the castle chate- laine. She asked about our
preferred accommodations and room setup.

While we were discussing arrangements, we spotted a group (pride?) of about
thirty Sha'um headed our way. They were all smaller than Darhyse, but still
quite large. They were of many different colors--browns, reds, oranges, and
greens. Some were multicol- ored. Cassandra didn't seem worried, but I stood
before Serena anyway. We became engulfed in a wave of huge and affectionate
creatures. They nudged and rubbed us, sniffed and nuzzled. They seemed
particularly happy to see Cassandra. One, however, seemed fascinated with
Serena. It stared at her and she stared back, looking shocked. I tapped her
shoulder and got no response.

"Serena?" Nothing.

I caught Cassandra's attention. "What's happening to Serena?" I asked.

Cassandra looked at the pair. "It looks like that one has imprinted on her,"
she said.

"What does that mean?"

"Sometimes a Sha'um selects a particular human to be her partner. They
establish a telepathic bond, just as Darhyse has with me."

"Can it harm her?"

"Of course not. But they will both be in a state of shock for awhile until
the imprinting sets."

"How long will that take?"

"Anywhere from a couple of hours to a couple of days."

"Maybe we'd better get them to a private room, then."

Alyss led us to a comfortable suite which included a bedroom, a sitting room,
and a bathroom. She explained to me how to use the various bathroom fixtures,
which were much more elegant and comfortable than those in Castle
Amber. Serena and her new friend sat and stared into her eyes. Periodically
she would speak with it out loud, oblivious to the telepathic nature of their
communication.

I took a long, comfortable bath. I admit that I was a bit hurt by this turn
of events; would this creature displace me in Serena's affections? I sat in
the tub and moped for some time. Shortly before turning into a wrinkled prune
I got out, dried myself, and went out to check on the besotted pair. Serena
was more responsive by then. She spoke with me excitedly about the
experience, and I had to explain to her that no, I could not hear what the
Sha'um was saying to her. She had never experienced telepathic commu-
nication before. It was all quite enthralling for her, and her enthusiasm was
infectious.  I asked her what the Sha'um's name was, and Serena told me that
she wanted Serena to name her. She had not yet decided. Later, we took a nap
on the bed.  We were awakened perhaps an hour later by a knock at the
door. It was Cassandra with a handsome, one-legged fellow named
Benjamin. Apparently, they were lovers.  Cassandra said that dinner would be
in about an hour and that, via the servants, we should let the chef know what
we would like. Serena and I decided to leave it up to him. They left to go
harass Merlin while Serena and I freshened up.

At dinner, we were seated at high table with Cassandra (her friend was not
there), some important officials, and Merlin. Corwin was not there. The food
was strange but quite good. I could not understand what was said by most of
the people around me, as Thari was not commonly spoken in Pearl. Alyss,
Cassandra, and a few servants knew the tongue. As we chatted Cassandra called
over a thin, hawk-like fellow with grey hair named Deth. He seemed some kind
of shadow sorcerer who also claimed to be a musi- cian.  "May I hear your
work sometime?" I asked.

"I would like that," he said, "but music is forbidden in this place."

"That seems strange to me," I said, "as Corwin is known as a great musician
and com- poser in Amber."

"Perhaps that is why he forbids music here," Cassandra said.

Deth excused himself to go sit at his own table. Later I noticed that the
voices around me, which I had been experiencing as an incomprehensible
babble, had begun to sound like Thari. I could understand them. Serena had
the same experience. I asked Cassandra whether people had changed tongues. At
first, she seemed puzzled, as everyone was clearly speaking the language
called Common. Then she understood. Deth, she said, had cast a spell upon us
permitting us to understand any language we heard. It was permanent. I raised
my glass to him, and he smiled.

With my new understanding I heard much talk of the current war. I asked
Cassandra about it. She confirmed that Pearl was at war with forces from
local Shadow, but would give few details. Benjamin, she said, had lost his
leg in battle, protecting her.  Later, she got a message brought to her by a
tired-looking man named Ingold. She read it and looked disturbed.

"It's from my father," she said to Merlin, Serena, and me. "He wants me to go
to the front. I am afraid that I will have to leave you tomorrow."

"Perhaps we could accompany you," I said. "You might find it helpful to have
some extra protection."

"Yes," agreed Merlin. "I haven't been in a good war for some time."

"This is not your fight," Cassandra said. "I have no right to involve you in
it."

"You are not," I said. "We are involving ourselves."

"What about you, Serena?" she asked.

Before Serena could assure everyone that I would protect her, I broke
in. "You could stay here and get to know your new friend." I indicated the
Sha'um sitting at her side.  "It would only be a couple of days, I'm sure."

"I suppose that might be all right," she said.

"Then it's agreed. We shall leave in the morning," I said. I was most
relieved that I would not have to try to protect Serena in a war zone.

Serena and I, fatigued from our journey, retired early. I caught up on this
journal and shall now go to bed.

 * * *

The next morning, early, Ingold came to me with a message from
Cassandra. There was an emergency, he said, and she had found it necessary to
go to her father a few hours before. Ingold would escort Merlin and me to the
army. I got up, said goodbye to Serena, and got dressed. I got Bucephalus and
met Merlin and Ingold in the castle courtyard. Ingold cast some sort of
spell, and we were transported to a military encampment of good size and
professional arrangement. Ingold led us to a tent where we met with
Cassandra.

"What's up?" Merlin asked.

"My father is ill. I believe he was poisoned," she said.

"How did it happen?" I asked.

"We had just concluded a peace treaty with the enemy. They had
surrendered. Then my father fell ill last night after drinking a cup of
wine."

"Why would he drink wine provided by his enemies?" Merlin asked.

"They drank the same wine first. It is even possible that a normal component
of their wine, which they are used to, caused him to fall ill. I was there
just after he was stricken and overheard their leaders speaking in their own
tongue, which I understand.  They said the treaty was just a ruse and they
would attack when we let our guard down."

"That was stupid of them," I said.

"Yes, very stupid. Anyway, I believe they tried to poison me also, but I had
taken a counteragent. I left with my father. Now I am not sure what to
do. Will you join my Council of War?"

"Sure," Merlin said.

"Certainly," I said. "With your father ill, I take it that you are the
commander?"

"Yes," she said. "I have been his second in command throughout this war."

"If they have just surrendered," I asked, "then they must be weak. How do
their forces compare with ours?"

"Their military has always been very weak. Their troops are a joke; our men
find it boring to fight them and we take almost no casualties in battle. They
have powerful mages, however, and they have caused considerable difficulties
with magical attacks.  Recently, their chief sorcerer was slain by Ingold,
our own chief sorcerer. Soon there- after, they offered to surrender."

"What would be the consequences of simply abrogating the treaty on the
grounds of what you overheard?" I asked "Would you be believed?"

"Our side would certainly believe me, but I am concerned about their side. I
want us to be perceived not only as the victors, but as those in the
right. Part of what we are trying to do is teach them that we are not their
enemies. One of the terms of the treaty was that we would be in charge of
educating their children. Their women have no rights. They are kept in
chains. If the enemy believes that we are traitors, they won't listen to us
and we won't be able to change their ways."

"Perhaps I am overly pessimistic," I said, "but since history is written by
the victors, then after we win, we will be the ones who write the
history. When we do, we will tell the truth about what happened. That may be
sufficient justification."

"All right," she said after a moment's thought, "then we will attack."

I asked about the military situation. The war, she said, had been going on
for a year.  While their ground forces have been ineffectual, their magical
attacks have been pow- erful. Corwin has been the prime target. In one
attack, they had sent an assassin for him in Cassandra's guise. Since Ingold
turned their greatest mage into a stone statue, Cassandra was unsure of their
capabilities. They might have other powerful mages.  There were spies in the
enemy camp who were now trying to gather that information.

While we were speaking, Madir, a sorceress I had met at dinner the previous
night, came in with one of our spies, a birdlike fellow whose name I never
caught. Their core force was a group of religious fanatics, led by priests in
black robes. Some of them were thought to be mages. The discussion turned to
ways to catch the leaders with their guard down without having to slaughter
their army.

"We could poison their food," said Madir. "We have `friends' who could
accomplish that easily."

"That would be fitting, considering what they did to my father," Merlin said.

"I don't want to kill them all," Cassandra said, "only defeat them."

"I know an herb that wouldn't kill them," Madir said, "but it would give them
all a ter- rible case of diarrhea."

We all laughed at the idea.

"We would need quite a lot of it, though," Madir said.

"Give me a sample and I'll get you all you need," Merlin said. Suddenly we
realized that this might be a workable plan.

Madir produced a small amount from his pouch and described the plant that
produced it. Merlin reached out and pulled some out of midair. Madir cast a
spell, and the raw herb became a white powder. Cassandra produced a bucket to
capture it in and rolls of paper with which to package it. Soon we had a
production line running, and I spent the next couple of hours rolling the
powder into paper packages.

While we were working, a small furry creature arrived. His name was Hilo. He
chatted with Cassandra in a strange singsong language. She explained about
the white powder and how it should be snuck into every cooking pot in the
enemy camp. Soon more of the creatures showed up. They sat under tables and
played incessantly at some kind of gambling game with rocks. When we were
done, they lined up, hundreds of them, and took the packets we had
created. Then they scampered off. By then it was late after- noon. We decided
to attack at dawn.

I spent the remainder of the day chatting with Cassandra and her
soldiers. They seemed like good chaps, although I'm not sure they were quite
so competent as they seemed to think they were. As far as I could tell, they
had never encountered truly challenging opponents. I didn't tell them that,
however.

I slept very well that night, although I missed Serena. It had been a long
time since I'd spent the night in a large military camp on campaign. It
seemed like home.

I woke up very early and made my way to the latrine. On the way back I
discovered that the camp had excellent bathing facilities. In some ways this
was more like a vaca- tion than a war. Not that I'm complaining, mind
you. Actual wars are quite uncom- fortable.  As I came back to my tent, the
birdlike spy whose name I never did learn spotted me and came over.

"They all have the runs," he squawked. "The whole army!"

"Good work!" I told him.

"If you would tell Cassandra," he said, "I have other tasks to do." When I
agreed, he walked off.

I dressed quickly, made my way to Cassandra's tent, and told her the news
 "Well," she asked, "shall we go visiting?"  "I think that's a splendid
idea."

A very large fellow--almost Gerard's size--came up to the tent. He complained
to Cassandra that no one would bet on the upcoming contest since the odds
were too greatly in our favor. Cassandra introduced him as her brother,
Commander Berkolder.  In Amber, the rank of Commander is used only in the
navy, but they appear to do things differently here.  "Actually, he's my
foster brother, the son of the general you met at dinner the night before
last."

"Corwin took me as something as a pet when I was younger," Berkolder
explained. He looked to the East, where the sun was peeking over the
horizon. "I should go form the troops." We had decided on a company of
cavalry with magical support for the initial attack, with a larger force held
in reserve to commit when we needed them.

When told that they would be in reserve, the Sha'um began to yowl. Cassandra
soon relented and told them they could be in on the attack. This confirmed my
opinion that these were undisciplined amateurs who thought themselves elite
because they had incompetent enemies. The very idea of changing a battle plan
because a bunch of cats want to be in on the fun is absurd. Again, however, I
held my tongue.

Merlin came in, not looking good.  "Good morning, Merlin," I said,
cheerfully.  "It comes so early around here."

 "Not a morning person, Merlin?" I asked.

"Not at all."  "Who's idea was it to do this at dawn?" asked Cassandra.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," I said.

"Actually," Merlin said, "I was up until a couple of hours ago talking to
Madir.  Fascinating person. After discussing the enemy with, her, I believe I
can handle any- thing they throw at us. Here, take these." He handed out
fist-sized steel balls to each of us.

"If you need to," he said "throw these at the enemy. They'll explode."

Berkolder and many of his men bore drinking mugs labeled `W.O.C.' When asked,
he told me that this stood for `Weapon of Choice.' Many of the men were
apparently going to wield these in the attack. At that point I began to think
that the enemy might have a chance against us after all, as we seemed to be
doing our best to achieve defeat.

The company of horse and the company of Sha'um moved out in fairly good
order. I rode Bucephalus. We went right past the enemy sentries, who lay
stricken on the ground. Then we rode right through the enemy camp. Thousands
lay covered in filth.  Many more lined ditches and latrines, emptying their
bowels. The stench was horrible.  For the most part they ignored us.  We rode
virtually unopposed to their command center, which was a large wooden
building. There were some guards around the building; these were easily taken
down by the Sha'um. I rode through them up to the entrance, which had two
guards. I cut them down easily and rode Bucephalus right through the doorway
and into the building. As I went in I saw the Sha'um jumping on the roof and
clawing their way through the walls.

Inside were more defenders. I killed several of them before I saw Cassandra
and others come in. We killed them all. Cassandra and I noticed that there
was a map table with scrolls on it that were disappearing, one by one. We
tried to grab them or skewer them with our weapons, but they disappeared
anyway.

I felt a tapping at the corner of my mind. I answered the Trump call; it was
Merlin.  "Their mages have escaped to another place," he said. "but I think I
can trace them."

"Then please do so," I told him.

"Pull Madir and me through."

I complied. Merlin spent a few minutes inscribing magical circles of some
kind on the floor. Then he uttered a Word, and a gate appeared before him.
"Hurry," he said. "Go through before they can escape again!"

Bucephalus and I jumped through the gate. We found ourselves in a large
cavern lit by torches. There were perhaps fifty men in the cave, most in
black robes, some in the uniforms of enemy officers. They looked at me in
shock and began to gather weapons.

Knowing better than to waste surprise, I shouted "tally ho!" and charged into
their midst. I was followed moments later by Cassandra and the rest of our
force. A group of them in the center began to teleport out, one by one, so we
headed in their direction.  Those around them had cast some kind of magical
protection spell; cutting them was like chopping cold molasses. I noticed
that the other soldiers were unable to affect them at all, but with Galantine
they were not hard to take down. Cassandra was also able to affect them with
her sword.  As we came toward them, they began to throw spells. They popped
in multicolored explosions around us. I thought we might be in trouble, but
Merlin and Madir threw counterspells that stopped them. More of them began to
appear, using the gate Merlin had established. I later found out that Merlin
had cast a spell that redirected their tele- portation back to this
place. Clever.

Within about ten minutes, it was over. Most of them were dead. A few of their
more powerful mages had escaped Merlin's redirection using more sophisticated
teleportation spells, but we had caught the majority of their high
command. We also had a large stack of documents: battle plans, codes,
logistical records, personnel records, and so on.  These we sent back through
the gate for analysis.

I went over to where Merlin was resting. "Can't you follow them again?" I
asked.

"No. I was too busy protecting you from their spells and I was not able to
trace their teleports."

"I see. Then can you determine their location from here without tracing the
spells?"

"Give me a minute. I'll talk it over with Madir and see what I can come up
with."

Most of our troops returned through the gate, then Merlin let it drop to
conserve his energy. He and Madir consulted for awhile, then Merlin sat down
and concentrated.

"They are putting up disruptive energies that Merlin is trying to break
through," Madir said. "I'm lending him strength."

The itchy, cottony feeling of Corwin's worlds became stronger, as if in
reaction to Merlin's outpouring of power. Then Merlin opened his eyes in
shock, and slowly keeled over. I ran over and checked his vital signs. He was
alive, but very unconscious.  His pulse and breathing were strong and slow.

Madir looked shaky. "Are you all right?" Cassandra asked.

Madir nodded and took out a cheroot. "Yeah. Got a light?"

"No, I don't."  "That's OK," she said, and a flame sprang from her finger.
"What happened?"

"I'm just the backup. I'm not sure what happened."

"We should get him out of here," Cassandra said.

"How?" I asked. "My Pattern doesn't work here and you don't have Pattern
yet."

"Madir, can you get us back?" Cassandra asked.

"No, I don't think so. This place is blocked off somehow."

We tried a couple of Trump cards, but they didn't seem to work in this place.

"Darhyse can take us through Shadow," Cassandra said. She pulled out her
sword and addressed it. "Darhyse, it's time to turn into a cat now."

Nothing happened. Cassandra started to curse. "I'm gonna beat her silly
afterwards."

"The sword is one of Darhyse's shapes?" I asked.

"Yes, but either she's not listening or her shapeshift doesn't work here."

I looked closely at the sword. It was of black metal. The blade had a tracery
of Pattern; presumably Corwin's, as it was not that of Amber.

Cassandra held up the blade and asked it to lead us. Nothing happened. We all
looked at each other.

"Malachai," Cassandra said, "you have more experience with this. How does one
travel through Shadow without a Shadow path?"

"Unless one has Pattern or Trump or some other ability, which I don't have in
this place and neither do any of you, then one does not."

"Then shall we pick a direction and at least get out of this cavern?"  "I
have no better solution," I said.

We took a couple of torches and got Merlin up on Bucephalus. Picking one of
the cav- ern's exits at random, we made our way to it. Cassandra, in the
lead, bumped into an invisible barrier at the exit. I felt the barrier; it
was smooth and glassy. I walked around the cavern and checked the other
exits. They were all barred in the same manner. This was not looking good.

Cassandra got out Darhyse and hit the barrier with her. No effect. I tried
the same with Galantine. It sunk in slightly and stuck, like striking
hardened molasses. I pulled it free, tried again with more force, and did no
better. I pushed Galantine in point first and discovered that the barrier was
only about two inches thick. Although I could push the sword through and then
move the blade slowly around, the barrier filled in rather than cutting. No
amount of moving the blade around could open a hole.  Cassandra tried the
same thing with Darhyse, but then had trouble pulling her back out. "There is
some kind of force pulling at the sword."

By that time Darhyse was imbedded up to the hilt. After some discussion we
decided to let Darhyse go through, in the hope that she could shapeshift
beyond the barrier. I had to push her the final distance with the point of my
sword, but she finally popped through. As we had hoped, she changed into her
Sha'um form. Darhyse looked at us and seemed to be making noise, but the
barrier blocked us from hearing. She tried to dig through the barrier,
managing to get the tips of her claws through but no more.  Cassandra touched
her claw and spoke with her silently. We agreed that Darhyse would explore
the other end of the corridor.

While she was away I felt around the cavern. As I feared, we seemed to have
no source of fresh air. It was a large cave and I thought we would have
enough for at least one or two days, but things seemed bleak. Cassandra
looked like a scared little girl, and I gave her a hug.

A few minutes later Darhyse came back, shaking her head. We took this to mean
that she had encountered a dead end. Then Darhyse tried something that should
have been obvious at the beginning. She began to dig at the rock beside the
corridor. Within a few minutes she had pushed a claw through to us.

"Well, that's a lesson for us," Cassandra said.

I agreed. Within a few minutes more of digging, we had enlarged the hole
enough for Darhyse to climb through.

"Never bring me anyplace where I can't change shape," she said. Cassandra
hugged her.

"You can talk," I said stupidly.

"Of course I can talk," she replied.

A few minutes later we began digging around the next barrier to our left. We
got through it and found that it, too, led to a dead end. Upon opening the
third exit, we felt a faint breeze. Darhyse pushed through and went exploring
while we used Galantine to enlarge the hole enough for Bucephalus to get
through. Darhyse came back with a flower in her mouth and helped us finish.
We emerged on a grassy hillside. The country looked rough and, so far as we
could tell, uninhabited.

"Darhyse, can you find the camp from here?" asked Cassandra.

"If I knew where it was," she said.

"Can you find my father?"

"Probably. But I want some food first."

We decided to camp out for the night and rest before trying to get
back. Darhyse came back with a sort of woolly antelope in her teeth,
apparently having eaten another already. It cooked up nicely. Madir,
recovering from her stupor, used its bones to create a magical palisade. I
took the first watch, catching up this journal in the fading light. I may
find it difficult to sleep with the interference from Corwin's Pattern in
this place. I keep wanting to scratch inside my head.

 * * *

The next morning we decided not to use Trump to get back unless we had
to. The only one we had that would be likely to work was Corwin's. If he was
unconscious, it would be useless. If he was awake, we would prefer to walk
home rather than bother him.

The trip back took about twelve hours. Merlin stayed unconscious throughout,
but his breathing and pulse seemed stronger than they had the day before. The
manner in which Darhyse led us through Shadow was strange. Unlike the gradual
shifts common to Pattern travel, we would travel for up to an hour through
one shadow and then make an abrupt change to a very different place. Finally,
we rode into the encampment of Corwin's army.

As we rode in, we saw Commander Berkolder. He told us we had been gone three
days.  Corwin was apparently awake, recovered, and very angry over the loss
of his daughter.  He had been planning an attack. We looked at each other and
wished we had tried his Trump. Oh well.

Is Ingold available?" Cassandra asked.

"Why?"

"Because Merlin was injured while conducting a magical probe and we think he
may be able to help."

"I see." He turned to a passing soldier. "You," he said. "Get me a
chirurgeon."  Merlin was soon placed on a stretcher and brought off toward
his own tent. Ingold and the camp's chief physician would meet him there. The
rest of us decided that we had done what we could for him. Cassandra said she
was going to her tent to Trump her father.

"I'm going to my tent to get cleaned up," I said.

"If you like," Berkolder said, "I can take your horse and see that he is
properly groomed."

"I'm sure he would like that," I told him. "Thank you."

I went to my tent, washed up, and changed clothes. Then I went to Merlin's
tent.  There I found Madir and Ingold sitting and chatting.  "How is he?" I
asked.

"Well, he tried to follow a bunch of old trails and hit some kind of trigger,
which not only drained him but used his power to set up a magical
barrier. He'll be all right."

 "How long until he's awake?"

"He's just sleeping now. He should be awake in twenty or thirty minutes."

Cassandra and Corwin showed up soon afterward and got the same report on
Merlin's status. We discussed the further prosecution of the war against the
remaining enemy leaders.

"Actually," Corwin said," I've decided to simply put a price on their
heads. I think it will be more demeaning to have us ignore them. And with
that nasty business settled I think we should all go someplace more
civilized. I need a vacation."

"Malachai?" asked Cassandra.

"Lead on," I said.

"Not quite yet," he said, "but soon."

We chatted for awhile longer before Corwin decided that Merlin had been
asleep long enough. He got up, went into the tent, and poked him in the
ribs. Merlin swatted his hand away.

"Don't do that!" he said.

"How are you feeling?" Corwin asked.

"Not good, but I'll live." Merlin sat up. "That was the worst blunder I've
ever made."

"Good," Corwin said. "I hope you've learned a lesson."

Merlin grunted. He peered around at all of us looking expectantly at
him. "What's up?"

"We're going someplace to relax," Corwin said.

"I'm hip," Merlin said.

I sent an orderly to fetch Bucephalus, who returned looking happy and very
nicely groomed.

Corwin produced a Trump depicting the courtyard of his castle. I noticed that
the back of the Trump bore an abstract smiling face in three
dimensions. Curious. He made con- tact and we all went through. Upon our
arrival, runners sped off to announce our arrival. Alyss showed up a few
minutes later, followed closely by Serena with her Sha'um.

We hugged and I told her briefly about my recent misadventures.

"How long have we been away?" I asked her.

"A week."

"And how have you been?" I asked.

"Actually I've been rather bored." She showed me some needlework she had been
doing, depicting her, myself, Bucephalus, and her Sha'um.

"Is your cat all right?"

"She's wonderful." The Sha'um rubbed against her and purred loudly. A misty
expres- sion came over her face and I felt a twinge of jealousy.

"Have you come up with a name for her yet?"

"Yes. Dapple." Dapple butted my hip gently and I scratched behind her ears.

Corwin broke away from the report on kingdom affairs Alyss was trying to give
him and came over. "So, how have you been coping with the interference
effects from my Pattern?" he asked me.

I thought of the cottony feeling in my head. "It's been bad, off and on," I
told him.

"Well, we can do something about that." He took out another Trump and powered
it up. "Let's get out of here."

We stepped through to the field where we had entered Corwin's
realm. Instantly, the awful feeling of having a head full of molasses
stopped.

Corwin gestured, and a table laden with food and drink appeared. We noticed a
pavilion standing at the other end of the field. It's banner bore the Unicorn
of Amber.  Oberon came from the pavilion and greeted us all. Hungry, we sat
down to eat.

Oberon addressed Corwin: "So, now that you have accomplished whatever it was
you accomplished, and you can see that my intentions were not to invade your
kingdom, I was hoping that you could look after the rest of the motley crew I
sent off."  "I'd love to," Corwin said. "I had lots of fun raising my
daughter and I think it would be entertaining to meet some of my other nieces
and nephews."

"They are not all so well-behaved," Cassandra said.

Corwin put a hand on my shoulder. "This one seems all right," he said.

"Not all of them are like him," she said.

"Then perhaps I can whip them into shape," he told her. An image came to mind
of Corwin giving K'rin a well-deserved spanking. I chuckled.

"I believe Caine would also like to go" Oberon said, "although I'm not sure
he's up to it."

"All right," Corwin said. "Where have these miscreants gone to?"

"They have traveled beyond Shadow."

"Beyond Shadow?" Corwin said. "I've never heard of such a place."

"They have gone past the Dueling Grounds?" asked Merlin.

"Yes," said Oberon. "Into the Sea of Chance itself."

"I would like to go," Serena told me.

"It sounds very dangerous," I began.

"You will protect me," she said. "You're my knight in shining armor."

"Dapple can protect her also," Cassandra said.

Serena picked that moment to be very annoying. "So, Your Majesty," she said,
"how does one arrange to marry one of your grandsons?"

I kicked her under the table.

"Bucephalus thinks it's a good idea," she said. "Dapple told me so."

"We'll talk about this later," I whispered emphatically.

Oberon, fortunately, chose not to acknowledge her question. "So Cassandra,"
he said, "do you have any other siblings?"

"Malachai may possibly be my brother. I don't know of any others besides
Merlin."

Corwin looked startled and I explained what I know of my origins. He admitted
that it was possible. He and Oberon began a technical discussion of ways to
determine my parentage. Much of the talk was in the mathematical language
they had used when figuring out how to rescue Caine. Finally, they decided
that there are two ways to tell: I could walk Corwin's Pattern, and if I
survive then I am his son. Oh, joy. The other way is to walk the Amber
Pattern at the same time as Cassandra or Merlin. If we establish a close
telepathic link while on the Pattern, then that would indicate that we are
siblings.  "I don't think I'll try either of those experiments quite yet," I
said.

"When can I walk the Pattern?" Cassandra asked Corwin.

"When you're ready, which won't be for some years," he told her. "You must be
very careful."

"Which of my sons was the youngest to walk the Pattern, against my
instructions?"  Oberon asked him.

"I was," he admitted, "but I was twenty-five. She isn't." He looked at
Cassandra threat- eningly.

Oberon took out a package and held it out to Cassandra. "This is for
Mikail. Would you deliver it to him for me?"

Cassandra took the package. "Of course." She looked at it curiously, but did
not ask.

"Thank you. It's two Trump decks. He asked for them and I haven't been able
to get them for him before now."

Oberon then excused himself and went into his tent. He returned a few minutes
later.  "Caine is not feeling up to a journey just yet. He gave me this
message for his daughter K'rin. Will anyone deliver it?"

I volunteered, and he gave it to me. I tucked it into my pouch for
safekeeping.

"All right," said Corwin. "If everyone has had quite enough to eat, I think
we should get going." He turned to Oberon. "Ur...how do we get there?"

"I have a friend who can get you there. Give me a moment and I will open a
gateway to him."

While Oberon worked on casting his spell, Corwin and Merlin selected two
horses from several he had pastured by his tent. Oberon nodded permission as
he finished his incantation. A glowing gate appeared before us. We said
goodbye, then stepped through it.

We found ourselves in a confusing polychromatic place. Before us was a very
tall per- son with strange features and a bluish cast to his skin. His hair
was perfect.

"I am Shiryu. Oberon tells me you wish to reach Mikail's party in the Sea of
Chance. I will try to get you there."

He, in turn, spent some time establishing a gate. In a few minutes it was
complete and he said that we could continue our journey. We thanked him and
did so.

This time, we entered a large space that looked like a control room. The
walls were decorated in contrasting sections of many different styles. There
was a view screen projecting strange patterns that were somehow difficult to
look at. At the center, seemingly locked into some sort of control chair, was
Mikail. The others in the room were K'rin, Rivka, Paolo, Valeria, and Zack.

We exchanged greetings, and Cassandra introduced Corwin to his brother
Mikail.  Mikail said hello and introduced Dalkontyr, the vessel in which we
traveled. A voice appeared from midair and said hello. We greeted it back.

I went over to K'rin. "I have a message for you. It's from your father."

"You've seen him? Is he all right? Where is he?"

"Yes," I said. "He has been injured, but he's recovering and will be
fine. When I last saw him he was with Oberon near Pearl." I handed her the
note.

"Thanks," she said. She reached into her pouch and retrieved a Trump of her
father.

"That won't work here," Mikail said.

K'rin ignored him and tried it anyway. She met with no success.

"If you'll excuse me, I'd like to go read this in private." She left,
returning a few minutes with a somber look.

On the view screen, I noticed various strange pieces of debris float by--a
shoe, a thigh- bone, a winged snake with chrome scales. "We may soon arrive
at a relatively solid place where we might get out," Mikail said.

Eventually, we were given quarters. After spending some time privately with
Serena, discussing the issue of public announcements of our private affairs,
I caught up on this journal. I have completed this volume and will be
starting another. I'm sure it will be as interesting as this one.