My hands and feet hurt. I finally crawled out of bed, into the soft light of dawn in my bedroom, and searched through my trunks for a salve. As I sat on my bed, spreading the sticky ointment over my feet, I realized I had a better way to fix this. If it worked.

I only hesitated a moment, the confusion of my dream still vivid in my waking mind. But when I willed myself back to normal... to a body that was me, but healed... it worked. My hands and feet were still dirty and bloody, but the skin was no longer raw and scraped. I quickly washed my hands and dressed.

It looked as if I had never slept -- as if it were still that predawn light when I had fallen against the pillows. I doubted that no time had passed... not if the dream of Alex spoke the truth. That meant I had slept a full day at least. But it was time for weapons' practice, and I thought, perhaps, that that would be a good way to wake up.

After a quick trip to the library.

It took very little time at all, and I had a new deck of Trump in my hands. I had saved those unique Trump I owned first, then carefully set my old deck into the case in the library and retrieved a new one. And then I stood there, shuffling through it, searching for Stephan's face, for his blue eyes gazing back at me from under those blond bangs, with his boyish smile.

Nothing.

I put the deck away and headed for the practice field. Perhaps a good workout would help my mind be sensible again.

I arrived at the field and only Phineas was there. I walked up to him and asked, "What day is it?" He stared at me, momentarily confused, and I amended my question, "How many days have passed since I last saw you? I am assuming at least one."

"About one," he nodded.

"I slept through an entire day," I mused. "That's pretty impressive."

"An interesting day, too," Phineas mentioned. I looked over at him, as he continued, "Oberon has returned."

"So he's not dead and it was all just a test," I began.

"With his wife," he interrupted me.

I stopped dead. "So he's not dead and it was all just a test while he went off to get laid," I said dryly. As always, my estimation of the king slid downwards again. I had been furious with him over the thought that he might have staged another deadly incident merely to test us. Discovering that he had gone to take a wife at the same time only made it worse. Shaking my head, I snapped, "Let's practice."

Phineas began working with a hammer of sorts, something new for me to practice with. It was obvious he hadn't used it before, but he still had skill as he worked with it, learning it. And it gave me something new to learn against, never having fought against that particular weapon before. After a while, we changed weapons, and I worked a bit with something close to the pattern blade in size, not wanting to use the real thing against any opponent I do not truly wish to injure.

Phineas seemed surprised that no guards appeared for practice. I had to admit, I did not know where they practiced, only that they did not do so with the family here. I thought, perhaps, it was because the family tended to enjoy the one on one combat, and the guards preferred not to take the risk. He was curious to see how the guards handled themselves in combat, so I suggested he look into it.

When I realized I was hungry, it was like a kick in the gut. I hadn't eaten in more than 24 hours, and had expended more than enough energy before that. I put up my sword, and asked Phineas if he were interested in breakfast.

"I'll join you later," he told me, "but actually, I have a favor to ask of you."

I paused, curious. "Is it something that should wait, or is it better that you ask now?"

"We can take care of it later," he assured me. "I'd just like to take care of it today." He paused a moment, while I placed the blade back upon the rack, and when I turned to face him, he continued, "I'd like to go back out into shadow, and you are the only one who has seen where I came from," he told me, and I began to nod, following his reason. "It has also been suggested to me that it might be good preparation for me to watch how you manipulate the shadows, as it might be safe soon for me to walk."

"I need to speak with somebody about something I didn't mean to let go quite all day," I stumbled through my words, thinking of the note I had sent to Jerrym. I needed to talk to him, and I would be distracted by that, at least, being left undone.

Phineas didn't seem bothered, and we arranged to meet later, either at or after breakfast. And then I went to seek something to eat.

I stopped back at my room to change quickly and drop off my normal weapons. I kept the pattern blade at my waist, not wanting to leave it unguarded in my rooms, yet still uncertain what I should be doing with it. It was strange to have inherited such a blade. As I went to leave, I noticed a piece of paper, off to the side where I had apparently kicked it. Upon glancing it, I found the announcement of Oberon's marriage. I discarded it to one side, still angry at him for testing us in that way. And refused to admit to myself that I had ever been worried about him.

Only Flora, Brennan and myself were at breakfast. I bade them both good morning.

"Everyone else still worn out from the festivities last night?" Brennan observed.

"I can't believe I missed them completely," I commented, gathering my food and finding a seat. I had piled my plate and began to eat with some enthusiasm, although as politely as ever. "It sounds like I missed all of the fun."

"I suppose that depends on what you were doing, my dear," Brennan looked at me.

"Sleeping." My voice was flat.

"All day?" he didn't sound as if he believed me.

"Yes."

"Alone?" Flora asked sweetly.

"Yes," I did not glare at her, although I considered it.

"Well then, yes, you missed all of the fun."

"Does anyone want to catch me up? I heard Oberon got married. I was wondering to who?" I looked at both of them, and waited.

"Chyle's mother," Brennan said. I smiled then, remembering her. "It just proves my theory that the universe has only 40 or 50 people in it... Oberon has all of creation to choose from, and he chooses Chyle's mother."

"I'm sure he had his reasons." I ran through memories in my head, selecting a few and trying them on. I remembered my discussion with Cybele, and her request that I not to speak to anyone regarding her new status in House Mishrak. And I wondered what was happening with that, now that this alliance had been made. It certainly must have cemented things between Amber and Mishrak. "And I'm sure they will be very happy."

"I'm sure he will be very happy," Brennan countered.

I looked at him. "You don't think she will be happy?"

"Have you looked at his track record, dear?" Brennan's tone was somewhat condescending. And the question bit more deeply than he'd intended. "If I really wanted to establish myself, I would become a marriage counselor."

"Are there any other marriages than Oberon's?" I remarked, with a slight shrug.

"So, Adrienne, was there anything you wished to tell us?" Flora asked.

"What?" I looked over at her, not following her train of thought. I stilled in my eating, both hands on the table before me.

"I couldn't help noticing your new accessory. Speaking of weddings."

I looked down at my left hand, and realized then where the ring was. Encircling my ring finger of the left hand, as if I were engaged. Or wed. "Oh, it is on that hand, isn't it," I said dumbly. I looked back up at Flora, and smiled, "No, there is absolutely nothing I want to tell you."

"Have you been sleep shopping again, dear?" Brennan asked.

"Apparently so," I joked in return, relieved to turn the conversation lighter. I considered slipping the ring off, but I didn't. For some reason, I wanted to leave it where it was. Like it belonged there. "It was absolutely beautiful, I couldn't resist it."

"Well, then you didn't miss all the fun," Flora observed with a smile.

"I suppose I didn't miss all of the fun," I tried to agree.

"If anyone deserves a dream husband, dear, it's you," Brennan assured me.

"It's a piece of jewelry," I said darkly. I started to pull the ring off, then stopped and slipped it back on, shaking my head.

"It could be an engagement ring," Flora pointed out.

"There would have to be a man involved for that," I said, almost bitterly.

"In some cultures, yes."

I glared at her. "There would have to be another entity involved for that."

"One would hope so," she observed.

"In any event, it is a handsome ring, my dear," Brennan assured me. "I just hope you did not end up paying too much for it."

I considered it, the swirling gray and silver, and murmured, "I am sure it will be worth the price."

"Is this a product of some of your excursions?" he asked curiously.

"Something like that." I began eating again, and hoped the questions would slow, or perhaps end.

Phineas arrived then, and more discussion concerning Oberon's wedding ensued. I remained mostly quiet, still lost in thought.

"Are you enjoying your stay in Amber?" Flora asked Phineas, shifting the subject.

"It is always interesting to see new places," he said calmly, still eating.

"I should probably pay my respects to the bride," I murmured. "Offer my congratulations."

"Perhaps you should wait until she is not having breakfast in bed with the king," Flora observed mildly.

"I'm certain you'll have opportunities to speak with her," Brennan told me.

I glanced at Phineas, "It would be best if I were to stick around at least until I got that done."

"Oh, no problem," he readily agreed. I had a moment's flicker of guilt then, knowing that I had too much on my mind other than helping him now. The conversation with Jerrym. Meeting Chyle's mother again. And then Stephan...

"You were planning on traveling somewhere?" Flora asked curiously.

"My men are still out in shadow somewhere," Phineas explained. "And Adrienne is the only one who knows where she got me from."

"I don't know how far there is from here," I admitted. "I didn't exactly walk to get there." And I wished, faintly, that Benedict had left me a trump of the place, rather than just the person.

We found ourselves explaining time and shadow to Phineas, and how more or less time could have passed for his men than for him.

"If you find yourself otherwise occupied," Brennan offered, "Adrienne, perhaps I could help."

"And if it comes down to that, perhaps I could help as well," Flora offered with a smile.

I felt better then, knowing that at least someone else might be able to help Phineas out, although I intended, at the time, to do what I had said I would. "Anyway, in the interest of being able to help you out, I will go take care of one of those things now." I stood. "Have you been given trumps?"

"That might be a bit premature," Brennan observed.

"At least until he has been acknowledged," Flora added.

I shuffled through my deck quickly, looking for my own card, and handed it to Phineas. "If you need to reach me. And if you will excuse me." I nodded at the others, and then went back to my room.

In my rooms, I saw the dirt and blood on the sheets, and knew I needed to get that cleaned up. But for the moment, I sat down on the bed, and pulled out my Trump of Jerrym. When he answered, I smiled, "Hello. I thought I should probably followup that note with some sort of an explanation. But I wasn't entirely certain what." I laughed nervously, "I hadn't gotten that far in my thoughts." I kept speaking, either because he wasn't, or not giving him a chance to. "Would you care to come through, or would it be better if I went there?"

"I'll come through."

I held out my hand and brought him through. I realized then that I was still in my bedroom, and that the bed was still a mess, and I rang for a servant to come and change the sheets. I had already started stripping it before I called Jerrym, and the sheets lay on the floor. I motioned for Jerrym to join me, and moved into the sitting room.

"I just wanted you to know that I wasn't trying to force any ideas on you, or to interfere," I babbled, "I was just trying to let you know of something that you might not have thought of."

"And you didn't give much thought to the problems involved?" he asked dryly.

"I really do think that when you consider the fact that these bodies are sort of... he probably could have learned to shapeshift." I shrugged. "I learned to shapeshift. It's just a body. It could be changed. And if you're working with Pattern, you could probably just fix it in the position you wanted to."

He still hadn't said anything, and I found myself continuing. "Anyway, I wrote it while I was tired, and so I thought I should at least follow up for some form of making an ass out of myself." My voice trailed off, and I smiled ruefully. "I would've talked to you yesterday, but I slept. Where were you?" I suddenly remembered that he had been conspicuously absent. "You missed practice."

"I was talking to my father."

I cocked my head. "Must've been a pretty important conversation."

"He was trying to kill me."

"Kill you?" I echoed, surprised.

"He is having a problem with mental stability," Jerrym explained. "Caused by whatever is going to happen in Amber."

"What's going to happen in Amber?" I asked, confused.

"You haven't gotten the feeling that something bad is approaching?" he asked in return. He sounded almost surprised.

I thought back and then shook my head, saying emphatically, "No, out of everything else in the past few weeks, that has not been a part of it."

"I suppose that people just feel the need to come tell me about these things."

I looked over at him and almost smiled. "They consider you a protector," I said softly.

"Well, I can't really do much about this until it happens," he said dryly. "Whatever is going to happen has apparently driven Brand mad, and he has left Amber. He has gone as far as he can from here, and it hasn't helped."

"Has he given you any idea what the bad thing is?" I asked curiously.

Jerrym shook his head. "He wasn't in any condition to discuss the matter."

"Who else has talked to you about this?" I prodded.

"Moira," he said after a moment's thought.

"And did she have anything more to say than something bad is going to happen?" I felt like I was pulling teeth, which given Jerrym's natural reticence, wasn't all that unusual.

"No."

"So the entire place is going to be destroyed while we sleep?" I asked dryly.

"It appears so," Jerrym said. "So it may be advisable for you to sleep a little less."

I snapped before realizing he might be cracking a joke. "If I'd had any choice, I wouldn't have slept for 24 hours straight!"

"Why are you always so defensive when you talk to me?" he countered, watching me carefully.

"I have absolutely no idea, because there is no reason I should be," I muttered. "I don't try to be, I.." I faltered. "I seem to be very good at digging holes for myself."

"Yes, you do," he agreed readily.

"I take it you don't like the idea at all then," I changed the subject, not really wanting to get further into a discussion of my faults.

"I find it disturbing," he admitted.

"I can see that." I almost smiled. Because that point, at least, was readily evident upon his expression.

"I'm glad that you can."

"Like I said, it was just an idea, and I thought I would mention it." I could hear the defensive note beginning again, and cringed inwardly.

"I appreciate that you are trying to help."

I smiled then. "Thank you." I paused a moment, and then a thought struck me. "Jerrym, you are fairly good friends with Moira?" I waited for him to nod, then continued, "I believe she told me she is beginning to learn to do Trumps the usual way, and not just her mirrors."

"Yes, she has been learning from Brand," he admitted.

"Good, so she can draw." I smiled readily. "I need to ask her a favor then. Or a couple of favors, perhaps."

"Is it a Trump that you need?" he asked.

I was surprised by the question, but didn't mind answering. "One is. It would be nice for Phineas to have a trump of where I got him from, if he needs to get back there. The other is," and I hesitated suddenly, wondering if bringing up Stephan to Jerrym was a bright idea, "well, I don't think it can be a Trump, but I would like to get a drawing of someone if I could describe them."

"I could probably help you with that," he offered.

I stared at him blankly. "You draw?" As he nodded, I said, "oh." I turned, looking around. "I'm sure I could find paper and pencil around here. If... you wouldn't mind." I was hesitant. This felt... odd. Having Jerrym draw Stephan. I wasn't sure I could explain all the reasons why.

"I need to take care of something else quickly," he paused me.

"Alright," I agreed readily, uncertain if my quick answer was defensive because he was stopping, or because I was relieved at the break.

"I need to see if Fiona is alright," he continued, as an explanation.

"Contact me when it’s a good time," I agreed. "I really appreciate this."

"Something you've seen in Tir?" he asked, knowing me too well.

"Sort of..." I hesitated. But he wasn't any more interested than that. "While you do that, I should probably send a note to Oberon's secretary for an audience with Amaranth. I'm trying to convince myself that ripping Oberon apart for being an ass about disappearing isn't appropriate." I smiled slightly.

"No, you should be more subtle about making your feelings known," he counseled.

I grinned at him. "I'm honored that you believe I could be subtle." He gave me a long suffering look, and I said quickly, "I admit to my failings."

"All too readily," he informed me.

I frowned. "What does that mean?"

He looked directly at me. "It means you seem to think you have more failings than you actually do."

I stared at him, as he walked out the door. Did he just pay me a compliment? Jerrym? Compliment? I couldn't wrap my mind around it. I distracted myself by penning a quick note to Oberon's secretary, that I wished to stop by and congratulate the new Queen, at her convenience.

And then I had a thought. Perhaps my most logical one since awakening. And I drew out my Trump of Alex, and concentrated upon it as I sank down onto the couch. The Trump cooled in my hands, but not enough for a contact. A frown furrowing my brow, I tried harder, and felt the card frost over in my hands.

"Well that would be a 'don't talk to me'," I muttered. He was the one who would have the best answers, especially if he did wake me up.

To distract myself once more, I began to meditate. I chose the Pattern of Tir as my subject -- seeking to understand it more. And it was different this time. More peaceful, more normal in its energies. I watched it for a long time, and then determined that I would not be the first to try it. Although it intrigued me.

Phineas... my mind wandered off in that direction. Although no, not without checking with Fiona first. I couldn't take that risk.

After a while, I wanted to study the Amber Pattern... and I did, and studied blue energy, but when I lost my concentration, lost myself in meditation, the Pattern became silver again.

"You belong to Tir."

I shivered as the phrase, the memory, slipped through my mind. My fingers touched the ring upon my finger and I slid it off, setting it down upon my bureau, and tried again to concentrate upon the Pattern of Amber. When the same thing happened, I stopped, uncertain, and retrieved the ring. I studied it then, watching the swirling mists and then summoned the Pattern and studied it that way. There seemed to be a sparkle, almost a reflection of the energy. No reaction, but there was something there. Other than that, it was a very simple band. I slipped it back upon my ring finger, upon my left hand.

And because it was simpler, and because it felt right, I returned to studying Tir's Pattern until Jerrym returned.

I gave him paper and pencil, and then said, "Hang on a second." I closed my eyes, remembering Stephan vividly, and then shifted into his form. "Except he wasn't wearing this," I smiled. I made his build smaller, so that he would fit in my clothing. "He was actually," I held up my hand and indicated his height, "and a larger build."

"As long as the proportions are right, it doesn't matter," Jerrym reminded me. "Its just a drawing."

I stood there, looking at him. "Do you recognize him?"

He looked at me consideringly, watching me as I stood there, as Stephan. "At the Pattern."

"Yes, he was at the Pattern," I agreed. So he knew the one I meant. I wasn't sure that was a good or a bad thing.

"And you are just now interested in it."

"Well..." I hesitated. "I had a sudden thought to find him." I looked over at Jerrym, and his expression said clearly that he didn't believe me. I sighed. "Do you really want to hear the whole story?"

He continued his drawing, as I stood there. "We have nothing better to do."

"It has to do with Tir. Can you stomach it?" I couldn't resist teasing.

"I think so," he agreed.

"I had a strange dream," I began, and hesitated. I tried to put the words together properly. "I am not entirely certain it was only a dream. If it was, it certainly manifested itself in some way."

"Not a dream, but a dream."

"I fell asleep," I said in my defense. "I was exhausted, considering I had used all of my energy, and some of Artor's. But I didn't realize it was a dream at the time that I was in it, I thought I was in Tir." Jerrym continued to stare at me, not encouraging or discouraging either, so I continued. "He happened to be one of the people I met while I was in Tir. A couple of times. And it was a very strange set of occurances in Tir. I got the impression that he was someone I knew very well, but not yet. There were a lot of strange memories -- very Tir-ish, not very dreamish. You remember that first trip I had to Tir?"

"Yes," he agreed.

"That theme came back again, but it was like something that was a very long time from now. I mentioned Oberon and he didn't even know who he was. Which implied therefore that if he is someone I am going to meet, it won't be for a very long time, because when I mentioned Oberon, he said 'he must be someone from Before.'"

"That doesn't mean it was a long time," Jerrym reasoned, "it only means that things changed. Things can change very suddenly."

I had to agree. "They can. Especially if something bad is supposed to happen. So I think it would be a good idea for me to find this person, because he may have something to do with it."

I hadn't really thought about it that way until I said it. Stephan hadn't wanted to tell me something in the dream. Had wanted the future to turn out in that way, so that he would be happy. What had I told him to tell the younger me? Did he know what was approaching Amber now?

"Then you can ask him why he tried to kill Bleys," Jerrym suggested.

"There is that too," I murmured, not altogether convinced Stephan was trying to kill Bleys. Or Brennan. It is quite possible he was ready to shoot when he was suddenly brought to the Pattern, and the bolt was loosed at the wrong enemy. But only finding him would answer that question. "I have tried to contact Alex. He appeared as I was questioning Stephan in the dream, and banished him. Then Alex informed me that I had been asleep, and dreaming, and that I should wake up. And I did," I said matter-of-factly.

Jerrym started to speak, and I held up my hand, saying, "I'm not done yet." He looked surprised (as surprised as Jerrym ever does) at my words, but he did quiet down.

"At which point I realized that either I was shifting in response to the dream, or there was something reality. When I began the dream, my hands and feet were scraped and bloody, and when I awoke, they were the same." I realized that my right hand had slipped to cover my left, the fingers idly turning the ring as I wondered if I should mention it. His gaze followed my motion, and I sighed. "Then there was this."

"A ring."

"A ring which I did not have until I awoke." I glanced at Jerrym for reaction, and seeing none, I continued forward firmly. "This is the hand which touched Stephan as he was banished."

"Have you had anyone look at the ring?" Jerrym asked practically. I knew he meant for more than its esthetic value, which had already been commented on at breakfast.

"I took a good look at it," I told him. "It sparkles very prettily in Tir's Pattern. But that's all I was able to see."

Jerrym remained silent, and for a while I watched him sketch. The silence grew, though, and I couldn't seem to leave it alone.

"I have no idea how I am going to find him," I offered, "but it seems like a good idea, especially now that you've mentioned the probably coming difficulties, which I knew nothing about."

More silence greeted my statement, the only sound coming from the pencil across the paper. Then Jerrym spoke, "I'm surprised you did not know."

I shrugged, not as surprised as he was. "Many people do not like to tell me anything."

"I am surprised that you did not feel it," he corrected me. I looked at him, a little surprised, but he was drawing and I could not see his expression. But it left me wondering if he thought perhaps I was more trustworthy than others did. He continued, "I am never surprised when I do not feel these things."

"If it has something to do with Amber, and not Tir, that may be why," I supposed.

"Why?" He hesitated over the word, and looked up at me, a hint of confusion showing through.

"Because I tend to be more closely aligned with Tir's Pattern, and with Tir-na Nog'th itself, than with Amber," I said softly. I touched the ring, twisting it slightly upon my finger. "Even moreso now."

"Interesting choice," he finally said, and I wasn't sure exactly what he meant by that. But he returned to his work, and I could no longer study his expression.

I was silent a moment, watching him draw, and then I tried to shift the subject, to find some small talk to pass the time as I posed in Stephan's body. "So, when did you decide to learn to draw?"

"Just recently." His voice was flat, and didn't invite more questions.

"Trump?" I made a face as I saw the brief flicker that told me I was right, and that he did not want anyone to know. "Who are you learning from?"

This time he glared at me, just briefly, and I had to defend myself. "I'm just curious! Do you really think I am suddenly going to go stand at the top of the towers and start shouting it?" I caught a flicker of answering expression, and muttered, "Don't answer that."

He paused for a moment, then said sullenly, "Moira."

I sat there, staring at him, realizing that he didn't want to share her. Didn't want me to ask her for instruction. That he was being possessive of his teacher. To read that much into Jerrym's expression was a surprise, and a revelation of sorts. I found my thoughts straying for a moment, and realizing that this has been a part of him all along. And was why he reacted so poorly to my appearance in Amber, as Benedict's protégé... I had stolen his teacher then. "I don't want her to teach me anything," I said softly.

"She is busy," he said curtly.

"Don't worry, you're keeping me, quite effectively, from disturbing her." I beamed at him. He ventured a small smile in return before returning to his drawing. "Would it bother you if I meditate?" I asked.

"Would that mean you would sit very still and be silent?" He asked dryly. I nodded, and he said, "Why would that bother me?"

"That's what I thought," I smiled at him again. And then I closed my eyes and brought Tir's Pattern to mind, meditating again upon its calming energy, focusing on it, understanding it.

After a long while, I smiled. "Did you know the Pattern's getting better?"

"Moira mentioned it." Jerrym sounded somewhat distracted, and with my eyes still closed, I imagined him bent over the drawing, as focused on that as he does on his swordsmanship. My smile grew slightly.

"Did you speak to Fiona? How is she?"

"Keeping control of herself," he said slowly, carefully.

My eyes flickered open. "Do you think she is well enough to ask if the Pattern is safe enough for Phineas to try walking it?" When he nodded, I pulled my deck from my pocket and shuffled through it, to find Fiona's Trump. "Benedict's note asked me to bring him back when it was safe for him to walk the Pattern." At Jerrym's look, I searched carefully for my words. "Benedict seems to..." I paused, thinking a moment, "like those of us he trusts take on the next one in line."

I stared evenly at Jerrym, remembering how Benedict had asked him to teach me when I first came to Amber, and how I had thought of that when Benedict asked me to bring Phineas to Amber.

After a moment of consideration, Jerrym allowed, "I trust you will treat him better than I treated you."

"I intend to." I had to smile. "I'm going to take him back to wherever he was when I contacted him. He needs to retrieve his soldiers."

"He left his men in shadow for days?" Jerrym asked, shaking his head at Phineas' lack of responsibility.

"Well, I'm his only way back there, and if he tried to awaken me yesterday, I wasn't waking up," I tried to explain.

Jerrym nodded then, as if that explained everything. "Then it is your fault?" He didn't sound angry, but more as if it simply made sense. I decided to take him as if he were teasing me, and I stuck my tongue out at him. He was surprised then, "What was that for?"

"Blame everything on me," I muttered, in mock indignation. "It wasn't my fault that I was asleep."

"In point of fact, it was your fault," he reminded me mildly.

"Not that long," I protested. "Something happened. That I was entirely unaware of at the time."

"What did you spend all your strength on?" he asked then.

"Healing people." I stood by that decision, still firmly believing that it was right. And not admitting to myself why I had been doing so. Why I had pushed myself so hard when I worried that Oberon had died.

"Don't act like I should know this," he reprimanded me lightly. "We haven't talked about this."

"I healed all the people here," I said with a shrug, "and then we spoke. Then Cybele contacted me and I went off to heal someone Chyle needed healed."

"Laura?"

I paused, uncertain. "Chyle's sister," I amended. And Jerrym said that that was her, and that she had been at breakfast in Amber yesterday. He had heard of the rescue then. "That took the energy Artor gave me, and I was a little low. So I needed the sleep pretty badly."

I was silent a little while longer, while he returned to drawing. I could see that every time I spoke to him, I distracted him. Jerrym is detail oriented, and it seemed that his artwork was no different. My hands shifted, and I realized I still held Fiona's trump. "Would it bother you if I called Fiona while you are working on this?"

"I don't see why it would bother me."

"Good." I smiled, and moved the Trump to where I could see it easily, and not disturb my pose for Jerrym. "Then I will take care of this now, and if it safe, then Phineas can walk the Pattern before we leave. Then I would be able to show him how to shift shadow. With my wonderful skill." I rolled my eyes slightly.

I know he didn't, but I had the impression of a long suffering sigh from Jerrym at my babbling. For some reason, although he has so little outward expression, it is still so easy to understand what he is thinking.

Now that I no longer try to see it all through the eyes of a love-sick pup!

I concentrated on the Trump, and felt the connection take hold, although I did not see her. "This is a new look for you," her voice said mildly.

"Oh, you haven't seen me since I cut my hair," I automatically raised a hand to feel my shorn locks, and then an expression of surprise crossed my features. Stephan's features. "Oh! You're right. I forgot. I have Jerrym sketching somebody for me. I forgot I was wearing his face. I wanted to ask you something."

"Go ahead."

"The Pattern seems to be improving. Do you think it is safe to walk yet?" I asked.

"Yes, I believe it is." I couldn't see her face, but her voice was definite.

"Good, because there is someone here who is supposed to walk it when it is ready, and I really didn't want him to blow up," I smiled slightly as I explained.

"I believe the energies have subsided, and it is as safe to walk as it ever was before," she gave the usual cautions.

"I can explain the rest to him," I went over the dangers mentally as I said that. I could explain the usual things to Phineas -- don't stop, and all of that.

"Good." There was a pause, and then her mild voice, "Tell Jerrym I would like to see the sketch when he is done."

"Actually," I glanced at Jerrym, "he is making it for me. I'll ask him if he minds."

I closed the contact then, and glanced over at Jerrym, suddenly realizing that I had spoken to quickly, and said too much. "Fiona would like to see the sketch when you are done. I'm sorry..."

His expression wasn't pleased. "She wasn't supposed to know."

"I know," I said softly. "That's why I said I'm sorry."

"Now I will have to explain to her why I did not ask her to instruct me," he muttered.

"How many times do I have to say I am sorry?" I asked sharply. "I can't make this face look any more sorrowful. I'm much better at guilty expressions in my own face."

"Well then I'll ask you to apologize again after we're done." He smiled at me then.

I couldn't resist teasing him. "Would you like me to get down on my hands and knees and beg for forgiveness?"

"If it'll make you feel better, I suppose I could survive that," he said, his expression not letting me know whether or not he was taking me seriously. "We'll have to see after I talk to Fiona."

"When we see just how bad my transgression was," I agreed. "And then we will see just how bad the reparations have to be."

"How badly you will need to be punished," he agreed, all too readily.

I snapped my jaw back up, uncertain now whether he was teasing, flirting, or serious, and said quickly, "Anyway, I am sorry. Fiona wanted to know why I looked like this, and I wasn't thinking when I answered. I forgot that I looked like this when I trumped her."

He seemed amused, but he didn't say anything. And once again I fell into silence, this time letting it last until he was done. I thought that perhaps I had put my foot in my mouth enough times already this morning, and being silent might be the best way to keep from tasting it yet again.

Finally he set down his pencil, and handed me the paper. Stephan stared back at me, well executed in graphite on paper.

"What do you intend to do with the sketch?" Jerrym asked.

"Not have to shapeshift every time I want to show someone what he looks like," I said simply. I let myself slip back into being myself again, feeling the comfort of myself surround me. "I think my next stop will be to talk to Brennan and Bleys and see if either of them knows why he would want to kill them." After a moment's pause, I added, "I think I'll start with Bleys. After I get some lunch."

I had suddenly realized that I was hungry... and that lunchtime had passed while Jerrym drew and I meditated. And it seemed he had realized the same thing, as he asked, "May I join you?"

I smiled, "Of course." And it is probably a good thing we were late, and there was no one left at lunch. Because if anyone saw us walk in together, they would have known that the world was indeed coming to an end. Because Jerrym and I were, for once, getting along.

After lunch, I bid Jerrym farewell and then went looking for Phineas. He was in his rooms, and I smiled as he opened the door. "I've spoken to Fiona," I jumped right in, without bothering with small talk, "and I've looked at it myself. The Pattern seems to be feeling better. Fiona believes it will be as safe to walk as it ever was." I switched from news to teacher then, "Did Benedict tell you anything about it?"

"No."

"Then we need to go over the specifics. It ain't easy," I was blunt. "Once you've started, don't stop. Don't step off the line. And you may see things while its happening, and it may seem like you can't get through, just keep going." I paused carefully, and then added, "No matter what you see, what you feel, what you remember, how difficult it is, keep going until you get to the end." I paused, and then added the most important part. "And if you're not family, it will kill you. So you have to be really sure that it is what you want to do."

He was silent for a very long time, before he asked slowly, "Its not throwing sparks around any more? Glowing so brightly that you can't see past it?"

"No, actually its very calm and peaceful, and I've spent a good part of the day meditating upon it."

He looked surprised. "You were on it, meditating?"

"No." I shook my head, smiling a little. "I was focusing on it within my mind, on understanding it."

"What purpose does that serve?" he asked curiously.

"To understand its effects on shadow. I don't know all of it yet," I admitted with a smile, "I'm learning on my own. Although I've had some good discussions with Artor. For example, there was a place that was blocked, and by focusing my energy upon the Pattern, I could get there. And I am also trying to understand more of Tir." At his blank look, I elaborated, "Tir-na Nog'th. A place of which you will probably not approve." His expression asked me to continue, and I explained, "It is the city of dreams."

"And why would you suggest I wouldn't approve that?" he asked bluntly.

"Let's put it this way, when I think of Benedict and his proteges, Benedict doesn't put much faith in it and neither does Jerrym... I love it, but I figured you'd be more in the Benedict and Jerrym camp," I smiled ruefully. "It’s a very impractical place. Some people say it shows visions of the future, or past. If you'd like to go up, I can take you sometime."

"Perhaps another time," he brushed it off.

"Just in case," I added, "it is best to go with someone who can get you down in a way that doesn't involve falling, or to have someone with a trump in contact with you, as it can sometimes disappear without warning. It is a reflection, and is entirely dependent upon the moon."

"I'll take your word for it." He looked dubious. I decided to change the subject.

"So have you decided upon the Pattern, or would you like more time to think on it?"

He still looked dubious. "You have said that this thing is like an animal, that it does think in some way. It might be better to give it a little more time, to be certain that it is ready."

"Very well." I decided it was time to bring him up to date. I was beginning to feel guilty, the way I kept putting off our departure. But the memory of the dream, the images of Stephan, continued to drive me. "I do have to talk to one more person at least, maybe two, before we can leave. And I still have not paid my respects to the new Queen."

"My men have standing orders," he assured me. "They do not suffer without me."

"In that case, let me go speak to a few people, and I will find you again later," I excused myself, and went back to my rooms.

As I walked in, I spotted a note that had been slipped under my door. Elegantly scripted, it was from Amaranth... Mara... Chyle's mom. The new Queen. "Adrienne, I do hope you are feeling better. I understand from what I heard that you may have overextended yourself. Health is most important, so please, when you have the time and are available see me at your convenience."

After reading it, I said softly to myself, "Good god, she's nice." I set the note aside, and decided I would see her after Bleys. I wanted to get one conversation overwith.

"Adrienne. To what do I owe the honor of this pleasant call?" he smiled charmingly at me.

"Actually, I want to find out something from you," I smiled in return, "isn't that always the case?"

"Seems to be," he agreed with me readily enough. "Not just you in general," he assured me, "most people don't trump unless they need something."

"Would you rather speak here or there?" I offered a hand. "I am in Amber."

"Is this likely to take long?"

"Not very long, I think," I assured him, my hand still outstretched.

"Could you perhaps give me, say, a quarter of a mark and I'll come to your rooms there?" he suggested. I dropped my hand, and agreed to that, and he ended the contact then. I relaxed and waited then, until I heard Bleys's knock upon the door.

"You look like you are in a good mood," I noted.

"Yes," he agreed readily, "do I need a reason to be?"

I shook my head, smiling, "No, but anything which can improve your spirits must indeed be good." After all, Bleys was almost perpetually ebullient. And today he seemed less subdued than ever.

"There is a new Queen in Amber," he said with a smile, "who is therefore occupying Oberon's time."

"And therefore taking his attention off of everyone else?" I suggested.

"There is that," he agreed. "I will admit there are other things that are troubling me, but if I cannot do anything about them, why bother to dwell upon them? Seize the day."

"A good idea," I tried to turn the subject then, "You never know when someone is going to shoot at you."

"Indeed." He smiled.

"I have no subtlety," I said, assuring him in that way that I had, indeed, said that on purpose.

"Have you ever?"

My smile grew. "No."

"So." He paused and glanced over at me. "You wish to know about the black clad figure at the Pattern?"

I caught myself toying with the ring and stopped, both hands caught before me. "Yes."

"He's been on everyone's mind of late, it seems," he mused.

"He has?" I was surprised. "Why?" I had thought it was only myself, and now Jerrym. But it seems others had been thinking of him as well.

Bleys was sober then, and I followed him to seriousness. "The body of what we believe to be Galen was found in Brennan's house, in the town."

"He interposed himself between that figure and yourself and Brennan," I said softly, remembering the sacrifice Galen had made for his father and brother.

"And he apparently has died for it." Bleys paused briefly, before explaining, "Brennan has been doing research into the body to determine if it was, indeed, Galen." At my confused look, he elaborated. "He was flayed."

I stared at him for a long moment. Flayed. It sounded like a message of some sort, something done as an insult, to make sure a point was made. I hoped it was not Stephan who had done that. Or if it was, that there was an explanation. "And you think it was done by that person," I said slowly. I pointed out the obvious then, "Everyone went all different places when the Pattern sent us away."

"And Galen could not be found by either myself or Brennan," Bleys said firmly.

"Anyone could have taken advantage of the fact that he was..."

"Yes, anyone could have," Bleys interrupted me, agreeing, "But would anyone have done so? As far as I know, Galen had very few enemies, save Brennan. But that was more on Brennan's end, than on Galen's."

I wracked my brain, thinking of possible reasons. "One of Sebastian's children?"

He shook his head. "From what I have heard, most have become House Mishrak now."

I took a deep breath, then asked my big question, "So, do you know who he was?" He had been masked... if anyone other than myself had an idea, it might well be Bleys or Brennan.

And again, he shook his head. "Nor do I have any idea why someone might shoot at either Brennan or I. To be honest, yes, I have made many enemies. But I believe I know who all those are who have walked the Pattern, and all of those were visible."

"I thought every time somebody walked the Pattern, they showed up in the deck," I mused aloud. "But there were people there who are not in the deck."

"Yes, there were. You'd have to ask Dworkin about that."

"I've never met Dworkin," I said with a shrug.

"He's rather good at what he does. The difficulty is that what he does is rather different than what most people do," Bleys smiled slightly.

"I'd like to meet him at some point."

"He was there yesterday," Bleys looked at me consideringly.

"I wasn't," my answer was flat.

"Are you well?" he was all concern then.

I explained that I had overextended myself healing, and he understood then, and was nicely concerned for my welfare. And after a few moments, the conversation turned back to Stephan.

"He may not have been aiming at me," Bleys admitted. "He could have been aiming at any one of us."

"Or even something before he arrived at the Pattern," I added, and he had to agree.

"But Galen was close enough to do..." he faltered a moment, "what Galen would have done. And sacrifice himself." He was silent a moment, and then suggested, "The next thing might be to meditate upon him upon the Pattern. He obviously has walked it. Or perhaps find Dworkin and ask why he has not drawn a card of him. Perhaps he was busy that day. Or perhaps he has drawn a number of trumps and someone keeps sneaking them out of the decks."

I couldn't help it, I laughed. I pulled the new deck out of my pocket and looked through it more carefully, and my brows furrowed slightly as I settled upon a card of an Asian woman. "I don't know here," I said softly. I showed the card to Bleys. "And that's the latest."

"Has that Phineas fellow walked it yet?"

I shook my head. "He wants to make certain that it is calm. I have a feeling I may find that out before he does."

"You don't need to walk it to meditate upon it," Bleys reminded me gently. "And perhaps you could speak with Artor -- I have heard he has something of an affinity for it. And I have also heard Flora say that Jerrym called her away from a tea party once by merely asking where she was."

At my curious expression, Bleys explained, "I was in a particular shadow, looking after some things, when I was suddenly called away and asked Flora to continue the observation. It was a place much like where young Ardath grew up. Flora came and found me later and told me that she was unfortunately forced away."

"Forced away?" I echoed. "By... did you say Jerrym?" I found that difficult to believe... Jerrym and the Pattern?

"Artor may have had a hand in that as well," Bleys smiled at my expression. "They were asking the Pattern where people were, and they were concerned that Flora was in some sort of trouble. So when they asked where she was, it brought her, to him."

I was thoughtful then, wondering if it would work. I felt I knew Stephan... or at least knew what I had seen in my dream.

And Bleys could see something in my expression then, and asked gently, "Why are you so curious?"

"It’s a loose end. And I hate loose ends," I said softly.

"And he suddenly became a loose end because..." Bleys prodded.

"It crossed my mind." I tried to make my voice flat, uninviting of further questions. As usual, I failed.

He smiled slightly, and asked softly, "It has nothing to do with that ring on your finger?"

I stopped what I was doing and looked down, realizing that once again I was turning it, twisting it upon my finger. "Why is everyone so interested in the ring?" I asked dryly.

"Because it swirls," he said simply. "It reminds me of Tir."

"Yes it does," I had to agree.

"Did you see him in Tir?"

"Yes." My voice was soft, not wanting to explain further than that.

"Very well."

I looked up and Bleys was smiling. "I can see you are reluctant to say anything further, and I will not pry," he explained.

"I know how I would feel if I were in your position," I began slowly.

"The truth will out," he said quickly. "If it were indeed an accident, and he did not intend to kill either Brennan or I, and if he is not the person responsible for returning Galen's body in its current condition, then I have no quarrel with him." There was a long pause before he added, "If he were involved in any way shape or form, then unfortunately Adrienne, all bets are off."

"I think he has something to do with the future of Amber," I said softly.

He smiled at me. "Really? Are you ruling again, Adrienne?" he teased me gently.

"God I hope not," my voice was heartfelt and honest. "Somehow I can't see this family suddenly bowing down faithful to Queen Adrienne."

"Perhaps you could be Queen of Tir, after all Alexander is the Duke," he suggested with a smile.

"Alexander is the Duke of Tir?" I was surprised.

"It was a term applied in a derogatory manner, and he adopted it," Bleys admitted. And I had to agree, that sounded like Alex.

"It would be amusing."

"Just amusing?" Bleys teased. "Not intriguing, fascinating...? I'd hate to think we were boring you, my dear."

I had to laugh. "No, I don't think I've been bored a minute since Mirelle first brought me to Amber. Well, maybe a minute, or two, but not very often."

We chatted for a minute or two more, and then he bade me farewell. And I decided that then might be a good time to go see the new Queen of Amber.

As I made my way to Oberon's wing, I could see signs of construction. Major construction. It appeared that Amaranth intended to make this her own place, and indeed, create a new wing of her own. I asked directions, and was escorted immediately to visit the Queen as her current audience was escorted out.

I attempted to curtsey, despite wearing slacks, and hope I did myself proud.

"Hello, dear, it is good to see you looking better," Mara said kindly. "Are you feeling better?"

"Much," I agreed. "24 hours of sleep will do that for a person."

"You must be careful not to overextend yourself."

"It was needed," I murmured.

"Yes, but, some costs are too high, though I have a feeling you wouldn't necessarily agree." She smiled.

"I survived. I should thank Artor at some point for the energy he loaned me, it was needed."

"But that can make one crash worse," she said gently.

"Yes, because when it's gone, it's gone," I said, suddenly perkily. "As I've learned. I'm feeling fine now, I just wanted to say congratulations and welcome to Amber."

"So far its been rather interesting, and fun almost, although certainly interesting," she said with a smile. "It is quite different than the Courts. Moreso than I had expected after my talks with Chyle. But one gets used to it, I suppose, with time. One thing I find it difficult to get used to is that there are so many human faces here."

"Yes," I agreed. "I grew up with it of course, but I've apparently managed to get enough used to it that I now forget."

"You've forgotten?" she asked curiously.

"Earlier today I was being someone else at the moment, and I made a Trump call at the same time," I smiled ruefully.

"You are fortunate that the person on the other end of the Trump contact knew who you were."

"It was Fiona." My smile grew, and I could see that Mara knew enough of her to know exactly what I meant.

"So, were you surprised?"

I had to admit I was, and she explained. "We had discussed various options for Mishrak and Sebastian's children. And when this came it was sudden, but not entirely a surprise. Nor unwelcome. I think it will be good for my house, even though I no longer have ties to it."

We chatted then for a while, and I believe that she at least cares for Oberon, and believes in him. She does not believe he is infallible, and when it ended, she invited me back to visit when I wished.

It was a pleasant time, and I enjoyed talking with her. It was very restful, which was good, because what I did next was not easy.

I went back to my room, and carefully locked the door before settling myself comfortably upon the bed. I sat there, crosslegged, my hands loosely set in my lap. I felt myself begin to fiddle with the ring, and did not squelch it this time, letting myself do whatever I wished with it. The ring was a part of this, a part of this attempt. Perhaps it would help me focus.

And then I brought the silvery Pattern of Tir-na Nog'th into focus in my mind. And then I began to recall Stephan... everything I saw in my dreams, every touch, every conversation. I let them all replay in my mind, bringing them all into vivid resolution as I meditated upon him, and upon the Pattern.

After a long while, I sensed something... a mental presence as if someone were there. Almost like a trump contact, but not exactly. I spoke tentatively to it, "Hello?" There was a pause then, as if the awareness noticed me, noticed my presence in its mind. "You are not going insane," I assured him, hoping that it was, indeed, Stephan.

"Who is this?" The voice was sharp

"You are Stephan," I tried to ask.

"Who is this?" the voice repeated, more angry.

"Adrienne." I saw no reason to hide anything. I wanted to find him, wanted to talk to him. To see who he was and how his future was tied to Amber's. And to mine.

There was a long pause this time, and finally a wary question. "Where did you get a trump of me?"

"I don't have one," I admitted.

Another long pause. "Then how is this possible?"

"Pattern and faith," I said, smiling wryly to myself.

"Who's faith?" His questions were short, sharp and to the point.

"Mine." I saw no reason to lie.

"You said you are Adrienne."

I laughed suddenly, realizing that he had thought Faith was a person, not a belief. "Faith that it would work," I corrected him.

He must have accepted that, as he snapped then, "What do you want?"

"To talk to you. But preferably face to face, this is going to be exhausting, I am sure." I knew I would regret this contact later... would need the energy I had expended. But for now, it was worth it. I had found him.

But he was suspicious, the questions firing back at me rapidly. "Why do you want to talk to me? What do you want?"

I took a long time to phrase my words. "I need you to be able to prove you did not do something," I said softly. "And I would like to meet you."

"Appropriately vague," he replied dryly.

I thought of Tir, and a rueful smile twisted my lips. "I am certain if I told you some of the reasons, you would probably laugh." After a pause I thought of the Pattern, when we all appeared, and added, "We've met very briefly before."

"I know who you are."

It was my turn to be surprised. "You do? How?"

He did not answer, instead choosing a place and time. "Tomorrow, on the beach of Amber, near the stairway to Rebma. Noon."

"I'll make sure I'm there." I smiled hesitantly, even though he could not see it.

"I'll be there," he agreed.

"Thank you." I was sincere.

"Don't thank me, Adrienne."

I laughed short, sharp and cynical, and held it for just a few more seconds before letting the contact fade. As the Pattern left me, the headache came crashing in on me. For a flicker of a moment, my hand seemed insubstantial, the ring swirling with mist, but then it was all normal again, and the pain throbbed behind my eyes. I looked at the ring, and the swirling continued, almost as if it were agitated. But it hurt to look at it, and I let my hand fall back to my side.

I stood and went to brew myself a cup of tea... something to take the edge of the pain off, even though it already seemed to be receding upon its own. I was trying to sort out plans in my mind -- could I travel with Phineas to his men, and still be back in time for noon tomorrow, or would I need to put Phineas off another day? Or perhaps it would be simplest to ask Brennan or Flora if they might help? They both offered... I should talk to Phineas on my own, not speak to them first.

I shuffled out my card of Phineas and sat down upon the couch, my tea still in one hand, and concentrated.

"Are you alright?" he asked, after answering, and I realized I was squinting at him. The light hurt.

"I will be soon, I need to rest a little," I admitted. "I don't think I'm going to be able to get away for the next couple of days." I decided to charge right in, and get my guilt overwith.

"That's alright," he assured me, "I think I may have found another way."

My apology was heartfelt, and I did feel badly for abandoning him like this. "I am sorry. I feel badly, but there is something I have to take care of."

"I understand."

"Thank you." I smiled at him, a bit weakly still with the headache behind my eyes.

"Rest well," he said, nodding, and I closed the contact to do just that until dinnertime.

But rest didn't come easily. I wasn't done, I realized. I still had one person left to speak with, and I should do that before too much longer had passed. Before he somehow found that I had been asking about Stephan and came looking for me. With Brennan, it was always simpler to approach him first, before he thought that one had withheld information from him. Much simpler.

I walked down to his townhouse, and knocked on the door. But no answer. Which figured. For once I decided to look for someone in the obvious location of where they lived, and they weren't there. Which left me with Trump again.

I sat down upon his step and pulled out my deck, shuffling out his card and concentrating.

"Yes, Adrienne." Brennan smiled as charmingly polite as always. He takes after his father in some ways, although I would never tell him that. And where Bleys effervesced, there was something smoother, silkier about Brennan's moods. But I'd learned not to always trust the veneer. "What can I do for you?"

"Your father suggested I speak to you about your investigations into your brother's death," I explained. "He said you would know more about what had happened to him."

"I am not certain what happened between when Galen intercepted the crossbow bolt, and when his body appeared," Brennan began.

"It just appeared?" I interrupted, wanting clarification.

"Well, it was left, for me."

"And you have no idea by whom?" I knew I was prodding, gently angling for him to go in the directions that I wished. And it worked.

"No, I do not." His voice was flat. "Although I would very much like to question the figure with the crossbow, for starters."

I realized I was twisting the ring upon my finger, and stopped, slowly so it wouldn't be obvious, as Brennan continued speaking.

"The body was prepared to offer a commendable degree of insult," he explained.

"Your father mentioned some of the details," I said, forestalling another gruesome discussion. Its not that such things bother me... I have no difficulties with the details of death and dying. It is a part of the way life is. But it wasn't necessary, and this was, as Brennan had said, particularly insulting.

Brennan looked at me, his gaze pinning me, "Not to put too fine a point on it, Adrienne, but what interest of this is yours?"

"I saw something in Tir."

"What, exactly, did you see?" His voice had that edge of patience that isn't really patient.

"Something concerning the man in black." I saw no reason to go into detail, nor to let Brennan know that I had already contacted Stephan. Brennan lacks subtlety at times, and I wished to question Stephan before Brennan got his hands on him. "So I thought to see if I could find out if either you or your father knew of any reason he might be shooting at you. I have already spoken to your father."

"What evidence did you see of the man in black?" he asked again, that edge still a part of his voice.

"A vision in Tir that gave evidence to him having some position with the future of Amber." It was vague, and perhaps true. Although by now I had begun to wonder if perhaps the vision was of Tir instead, and if I were to somehow be Queen of the city in the sky. I wasn't certain either option appealed. "I would like to find him and speak with him."

"As would I," Brennan's voice was low, with a hint of darkness. I wasn't going to hand Stephan over that easily, although I believe he suspected I knew something now. Something more than I was telling him.

"If I find him, I will tell him that," I answered, equally as serious. "Is there any well to tell who dealt with his body?"

"Whoever it was was quite meticulous and careful," Brennan admitted. I'd suspected as much -- Brennan is skilled, and if he could have known, he would have.

"It could have been anyone. We were all scattered by the Pattern," I reminded him. I knew I was defending Stephan, treading into dangerous territory, and I did my best to tread there lightly.

"Oh, I am certainly willing to admit that it may not be that person who ended up... decorating... the body," Brennan admitted. "But I also wish to know why he shot at either Bleys or myself. I admit to having enemies, but I at least recognize them."

I had to smile. "Strange, that is exactly what your father said."

And the conversation ended there, with Brennan none so pleased at the comparison. It is likely good that those two do not get along -- Brennan and Bleys. I hate to imagine how much more dangerous they could be should they work together.

I walked back up to the castle, and finally did spend my time resting until dinner.

I carried my tea down when I went down, still nursing the end of my headache. Bleys greeted me with his usual flair, and Flora was there as well. Which promised to be a very... flourishing evening.

I saw Chyle then, and smiled, "Welcome to the family. Are you my uncle now?"

"Step-uncle," Bleys corrected me.

"Thank you," Chyle smiled back at me.

"Of course, that depends on whether she still considers herself of the house," Bleys continued on. "I understand that they do things differently in the Courts."

"There is a difference between blood and family," Chyle agreed. "As can be shown by the new family members I have which are not of my blood."

He was speaking of Sebastian's children, who had become a part of House Mishrak once Sebastian was dead. And were, therefore, now allied with Amber and not against it. And then there was silence, as we all began to eat.

"Let's see," I mused. "We've talked about family and current events. I am out of topics."

"There are always politics and sex," Bleys suggested.

"Is that one topic or two?" Flora asked, glancing over at him.

Bleys smiled at her. "Yes."

"If its one topic, then I'm not touching it with a ten foot pole," I muttered. I looked up to see Bleys open his mouth, then close it again, smiling at me innocently as only Bleys can. I did myself proud -- I neither blushed nor glowered.

"There is always the weather," Flora suggested.

"It is the same as it ever is here," Jerrym reminded us. "Nice."

"Beautiful night, no clouds, clear skies, beautiful moon?" I smiled over at him. A good night to go to Tir-na Nog'th I hoped. The thought faltered a moment, wondering if Jerrym would be going up as well. To be with Rhiannon. The thought intertwined with a confused thought about Stephan and finding out more information about him, and I hesitated, lost in that confusion. "Are you planning to go to Tir?"

"Are you going to be there?" he countered.

"I was thinking about it," I allowed, and then assured him, "But I will stay far out of your way."

Then he nodded, but Bleys claimed my attention before I could get lost in that same tangled confusion again. "More adventures? Or simply meditating?"

"I haven't decided yet," I said noncomittally. I didn't want to get into a discussion about Stephan now. Not here, not until I learned more. I hoped the conversation the next afternoon went well.

"I suppose it depends on what you wish to learn," Bleys smiled at me.

"A new acquisition?" Chyle asked. I glanced over at him confused, and he added, "On your hand. You seem to be fidgeting with it as if it were unaccustomed."

Flora smiled at me. "Perhaps she is merely uncomfortable with what it represents."

I did my best not to pale or blanch under the sudden observations, and as Chyle asked, "What does it represent?"

"Adventures in Tir." Bleys's smile teased me. "Remembrance."

And that finished off the topic of weather. We were done with that, and Flora attempted to move us on to fashion or sports. I concentrated on my dinner then, and on not toying with the ring. But I was drawn in, speaking of Chaosian fashions. It helped keep my mind off of things, and I was silly then, changing my hairstyle briefly into pure raven locks, then with a smile changing back. I wanted to change nothing about myself permanently. Except in the more natural manner.

"What did you think?" I asked with a grin.

Jerrym looked at me. "That was the same color as Rhiannon's hair."

I stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out whether he was teasing me, or what, in fact, he had meant by it. My thoughts were derailed, still confused again and wondering for a while, as I went through the motions of the conversation around me. I answered automatically, until I managed to find a new topic of conversation.

The strange Trump I had found in my new deck, an oriental woman, that no one knew about. It gave a topic of conversation that lasted a few minutes, before the converstion turned to me again. I sat silent, and it drifted away, until Bleys brought up the topic of Rowan. "Does anyone know what has happened to his body?"

I looked over at him, brows furrowed in confusion. "I left it in the infirmary."

He shook his head. "I went to see it, and it was not there."

"Well, that solves that problem." Jerrym's tone was offhand, as I glared at him.

"Perhaps he is not as dead as we thought," I said then, turning specifically away from him, and ignoring his comment before Flora and Bleys pinned me to the table with it. "The Pattern did seem to heal him, although there was nothing there."

"I've often thought that about Rowan," Flora's smile was perfect, nowhere near as catty as her words. And Bleys, of course, echoed her.

I shook my head. "The Pattern at least has stopped speaking with his voice."

"Who's voice does it speak with?" Flora inquired curiously.

"No one," I said with a bit of a smile. "It is somewhat of a relief, not to have it watching over my shoulder anymore."

Bleys chuckled, looking at me like I were a small child. "The Pattern doesn't have eyes, my dear."

I pinned him back, my smile bland. "It does when it shows up as Rowan."

"Adrienne, may I ask you a personal question?" Flora asked mildly.

I didn't see how I could stop her, but shrugged, "It depends on what you ask."

"Have you had enough sleep lately?"

I had to smile. "I just slept for 24 hours straight, so I would say yes. Why?"

She looked at me, apparently concerned. "Your conversation seems disconnected. Moreso than usual."

"Perhaps she has just been avoiding the subject of sex." When I looked over at Bleys, he was smiling at me.

I looked at him calmly, "Bleys, while you were gone I had some perfectly nice dinners that did not involve sex."

Jerrym choked on his water. I couldn't decide whether I should be blushing, laughing, or nothing at all. I chose the last.

The conversation drifted off again, and I chose to ignore it, thinking instead of the coming night. And of Tir-na Nog'th. I glanced at Jerrym, wondering just how easy it would be to avoid him in Tir. And hoping it would be very easy. After all, we were there for two different reasons. Two different people. I just needed to remember that.