ARRIVAL IN AMBER

copyright 1995 by Deb Atwood

My arrival in Amber was unexpected, by myself and by the inhabitants of that land. Balder had not warned me, except in his note, what to expect. And naturally, I knew none of it from my own learnings. And as you will see, by the end of my first trip to that kingdom, I still did not know the name of that peculiar outland. Simply that I had found someplace unusual, and more than a little unsettling.

It began when Balder summoned me to his chambers and handed me two scrolls. "The first is the instructions on using the second." I took them from him, starting to slip the ribbon from the one he had just indicated. I paused when he spoke, "Do not use either unless it is absolutely necessary."

I slid the ribbon back onto the scroll, glad that I had at least learned to read this language in the last year. When the time came, I would be able to use the scroll effectively. Still, I was curious. "What is it?" I'd never felt odd speaking my mind to Balder. I was always just deferential enough to be known as in his service, but I was rarely a true servant. I have always said what I am thinking, and asked what I wish to know.

He was serious, which was a rare occurrence. His usual joviality was not in evidence as he explained. "This may someday be necessary to save your life, and possibly even my own."

It sounded as if it were something quite powerful, and of course, I assumed magical. Otherwise why would he entrust it to his court mage? I wished to be prepared. "What does it do?"

"It is a means of escape." Despite my prodding, that was all he would explain, adding, "Do not use these until absolutely necessary." Again, he was deadly serious, which seemed unusual. Since they seemed so powerful, I asked where they should be kept, and was told, "I would keep them on you at all times."

I was starting to worry. I had liked working with Balder, and some of his seriousness was beginning to infect me. "This sounds as if something dire is to happen at any moment now."

"You never can tell." He walked away slightly, silent, then turned back. "I have to leave for a little while." Of course, I asked to where he traveled, and was surprised when he answered, "I don't know yet, but I don't expect to be gone much more than a day or so."

I respected his judgment, but this was ludicrous. "You have to leave, but you don't know to where you travel? That doesn't make any sense." The statement slipped out before I could silence myself. "Forgive me Sire, but it does not," I hastened to add.

He smiled slightly. "Child, there are many things about the universe you do not know." He suddenly seemed to age before my eyes, reminding me of my grandfather, before he died, older and wiser than myself. I bristled.

"I know that I am not a child," I protested. At more than a century old, how could I be still a child? "I've seen many people die as I've grown old." I stood, hands on my hips, my tiny five foot frame braced, glaring up at him towering above me.

His smile was humorless. "I can guarantee you that I've seen more people die than you have." He paused before adding. "I've been responsible for more deaths than you have seen."

That was not a pleasant thought, and I was silent, thinking about it. What drew me to Balder was his kindness in ruling, his lack of cruelty. He has the power to wield and did not. Yet it seemed as if in the past he might have. But without proof, I would not act against him.

"My relatives are a violent lot," he said softly.

I looked away, unable to look him in the eye. "They don't sound pleasant. I'm not one who condones a lot of killing, unless there is reason."

"They can be wonderful people, if you get to know them," he smiled a true smile now. "And as for the killing, there's always a reason."

He had said that before, when he asked me to say as his mage. And both times, I thought to myself that the reason still had to be good. I only kill when in punishment to a murderer, but not for lesser reason. Let the punishment fit the crime. But it was not the time or the place for a discussion of moral codes, and I agreed to take the scrolls, and Balder left.

A couple days later, I was working in my room when I heard a voice. I looked around my room, which was empty, and called out, "Hello? Is somebody there?" There was another noise, indistinguishable. No one was in the hallway, nor could I find anything strange in my walls where someone might hide and view me.

"Help..." I heard Balder's voice calling me now, more clearly, but I still could not see him. I was confused, still looking for him, but no matter which way I turned, it still seemed as if he were standing behind me, speaking over my shoulder. "Use the scroll," he told me, and then there was a sharp pain in my mind. My hands flew to my temples, and I held my aching head.

I always hold loyalty to those I serve, and now Balder held that loyalty. He had told me that the scroll could save his life, so I quickly unrolled the first scroll. It held inside it a note, in some writing I could not read. But the scroll itself told me, "Present this to my brother, King Corwin. This is a message that you are an emissary of mine. Then stare carefully at the second scroll." I paused to take a glance at that scroll to find a picture of a courtyard. It was obviously attractive, and well kept, and the drawing was well executed. Then I turned back to the instructions. "Visualize the courtyard, and when it becomes almost real, your head will start to almost swirl, then start to walk into the image and you will appear there. Do not hold onto the paper for too long after that."

It sounded like a strong magic, burning the paper as I stepped through. I gathered my things together, and did as he said. As I stared at the picture, my head did start to spin slightly, as the image seemed to waver and then solidify in front of me, almost as if it were one of my illusions. As it grew more solid, I shouldered my pack and stepped through. I dropped the scroll, of course, hardly noticing as it turned to ashes before it hit the ground. I found myself in a courtyard, in the late evening, with a few people nearby. I tried to attract their attention, but it was obvious that none understood my language, nor could I understand them. I held up the note Balder gave me, and that brought them to action. The person with whom I spoke called others over, as I tucked my note away, and they began to run, tugging me with them. Realizing that Balder's voice had held some urgency, and worried for him, I went along.

I was led into a forest first, then a clearing decorated with several unicorn symbols. Many people milled about, and as I entered, one upon a horse darted off to one who stood slightly apart from the others and seemed to be dictating orders to others. My attention drawn to him, I found myself staring, all thoughts of Balder fleeing my mind. For it was Jordan, grown older, though not so old as I would have suspected in more than 50 years. I could not move, waiting for him to notice me, but he did not, even as the runners dragged me up to him.

He paid no attention to me, until I handed him my note. Even then, he did not seem to recognize me, as he turned and left quickly. "Wait a minute!" I yelled, insulted. I started to push my way past the guards, my mind still churning over the fact that it seemed that Balder's brother was my lover. Several guards stopped me, and when one grabbed my shoulder, I pushed him roughly away. There was a slick sound of metal on leather and metal, as six guards blocked my path, swords drawn. I stepped back slightly, drawing my own sword. There was a silence, then as Jordan disappeared into the distance, I sheathed my sword. They were talking at me, gesturing for me to follow, and as I believed I may have just threatened their king, I was understandably hesitant.

"I don't suppose anyone here speaks my language?" I called out.

A man walked up to me, as much of an outlander as everyone else I had seen here. As close as I could tell, he was less than a foot taller than myself, and not terribly old in the face, although his brown hair was streaked with gray. "What was that?"

I smiled slightly, pleased to find someone who understood me. "Can you talk to these men?" I inquired politely, indicating the guards, who were still trying to move me along.

"Certainly," he agreed. "What d'you need said?"

"I want to talk to that man," I insisted. "I'm not dangerous. I'm here on the request of his brother."

He began to talk to the guards, in the same gibberish that they used. Then he turned back to me. "They say you should go with them." Since it appeared that I was now to be dragged along after my quarry, I hastily agreed. My translator told the guards one more thing and then I was dragged off.

I was taken to a room where a man in the garments of a fop came to speak to me. Again, he spoke my language, and he demanded information. "What do you know about this situation?" When I appeared confused, he continued, "You've handed us a note. What else do you know?"

"What did the note say?" I was helpless here. I wanted to help these people, since I knew that Balder was in trouble, possible dire trouble since he had told me to use the scrolls. But I was at a loss. "I cannot read it."

"It says that Bleys is in..." he stopped suddenly. "You can't read it?"

I explained how I had come by the note, and after some confusion, we settled that Balder was indeed this Bleys he had mentioned. Then he began to ask me questions again, and I introduced myself properly and began to explain the whole situation once more, at least the little I knew. When I explained how Bleys, and it still seemed strange to use that name, had told me that the scrolls could save my life, and possibly his, my translator stopped me, "Your life is in danger?" When I explained that I did not know, he decided, "I think that you might have to have an audience with the king."

If this King Corwin were the man I had seen, I welcomed gladly the chance to meet with him. For I wanted to know why Jordan seemed not to recognize me. And I verified with my translator that that man was indeed the king. When I pressured to see the king as soon as possible, my translator put me off, stating that the matter was already being dealt with, and that I must wait.

And then I was alone in the room. I paced, annoyed and frustrated. The door was locked and I could not find any other exit. I started at the door, and began to carefully investigate the room, looking for any useful details. Unfortunately, I forgot one very important detail, which I remembered when the guards came to find me again. As they took me to a lounge, still spouting their gibberish, I realized that I had been so angry at my situation that I had neglected to work some magic to translate this unusual language for me. Again, I would need to rely on a translator.

On a chair in the corner was Jordan, and again, he did not seem to recognize me. Through the translator, he inquired, "What do you know of Bleys?"

I brushed off his question and ignored my translator, instead taking one step closer to him. "I know you can speak my language." It tore at me to see him there, not even realizing that it was me.

He ignored my statement, and the translator spoke at him, but he shook his head and snapped something out. The translator hesitated, then said cautiously, "You said he tried to magically contact you, and then you felt a sharp pain?"

I repeated my statement, and then listened to their story. Their own magic could not be used to get in contact with Bleys. I did not know of anything he was working on, as they put it, so instead I told them of Bachman, and of my position there, adding that he had rarely mentioned his family.

"I wonder what he was up to," Corwin mused. I had chosen to call him that, rather than Jordan, for I had begun to wonder if it really were him. Could Jordan ignore me in this manner? I remembered before he had left, how he had looked at me, and what we had shared. I could not believe that he could not remember.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that," I reminded him. He was sitting back in his chair, staring off at the wall. I tried to relax, then called his name. "Jordan?"

The translator turned to me. "Who is Jordan? Do you know someone here?"

I gestured at the king. "Someone who looks remarkably like him. Someone I knew a very long time ago." I could not keep the sadness from my voice.

"And he looks like..."

"Your king," I supplied. The translator passed this on, but Corwin merely glanced at me and mumbled something to the translator which was never passed on to myself.

Instead, after some thought, I was told, "As far as he knows, he's never met you."

I pressured for details, others who might look like him, but younger. And although I was told that this might be, I could find out no real information. And out of the corner of my eye, I saw Corwin watching us, seeming to listen. "I would appreciate knowing anything you might tell me of his family," I requested boldly. "If my old friend is related to him, as appearances might indicate, I would be interested in renewing our acquaintance."

I also stated my desires to help in the search for Bleys. It was accepted, not immediately, but at some point in the future. "If you wouldn't mind waiting around..."

"I have no choice," I said in clipped tones, as the guards again led me down the hall. "I have no way to leave." For once again I had found myself in another of the outlands, and this time I had not found a friend who was willing to promise to someday take me home. I began to wonder if I might ever see Crystal Tears again.

I was returned to the same room, an uncomfortable room with long tables and several chairs, but nothing so comfortable as a sofa or a cot to lie upon as night grew around us. Nor did they see fit to supply me with supper. As I was alone for a while, I first fixed the language problem I was having. I did not know if it might work, but I knew I had to try. Then I spent some time trying to create a spell to contact Balder, but after all the effort, I realized I was simply not able to do this.

After a time, with no food and no guards, I realized that I had been forgotten. Frustration and anger grew until I had to escape. I'd already discovered that the room was well sealed, so instead I turned to my magic, and tried to conjure myself to the courtyard in which I had arrived. After a few moments concentration, I was still in the same room. I yelled my annoyance, cursing as creatively as I could for several minutes. When I finally calmed myself, and still alone, I did manage, after two attempts, to conjure myself some bread and water to fill my stomach.

And after a period of some time, still in the dark of night, I found myself with company. The man who had translated for me down in the forest was thrust into my room, the door closed quickly behind him. "What the hell are you doing here?" burst out from me, before I thought to be polite.

"One moment," he sounded annoyed, and distracted. He looked around, carefully taking in the situation and our surroundings.

"I've been trying to get out since I got in here," I commented very calmly as he repeated much of what I had already spent my time doing. "I wonder if they do remember that I am here at all."

He was gazing at the window, fixedly, ignoring me. A moment later, he moved to kneel before the door, fidgeting with the lock. "Having any luck with the door?" I smiled at him, I could tell he was using some sort of magic to help himself along.

"It's coming." He straightened up, and began to work magic anew. A ghostly image of a desk appeared in the room with us, obviously an illusion of some kind. I commented mildly that things didn't work as well here, offering him some bread. He ignored me again, casting another spell upon a knife, which he then dropped to the floor. It fell soundlessly, and he bent to pick it up, smiling. "Good."

Again I held out the bread. "Hungry?"

He glared at me. "Not yet."

"Just checking." I tore off a piece to eat myself. It was most amusing to view someone else completing the same gyrations I had so recently done myself. "What did you do to get throne in here?"

He was leaning against the door, one ear close. "Please, I'm trying to listen." He turned to glare at me, annoyance growing quickly. He jumped away quickly, behind the door so that when it opened it blocked him from view. I leaned against a wall, watching him curiously.

"Where is he?" the guards asked, looking straight at me.

I pointed to where he stood, glaring at me. "Over there." I'm not sure what imp possessed me, but he had been impolite, frenetic, and it had been like being locked in with a lunatic. The least he could have accomplished was properly introducing himself to his cellmate, not to mention explaining his offense. After all, if we had to spend time together, I would prefer to know what mayhem he was accused of.

He threw a quick glare at me, and stepped out from behind the door. The guards gestured to us, "Will the both of you come with us please?" I suddenly realized that I understood the one who was speaking easily, and I smiled, since my spell had been a success.

We were escorted into a large room, where Corwin sat at the center surrounded by many others, including two very large men, a redheaded woman and a blond one near her, and one other man dressed very strangely all in leather. I felt very small, surrounded by all these outlanders, especially the two large men. Next to me, my companion in captivity pasted an impressed expression on his face, wide-eyed at his surroundings. I stood my ground, not giving way, my chin solid against any opposition. I refused to be cowed, even in the face of this strange royalty. Especially to Corwin, who refused to recognize me.

"What do you know of Moire?" he demanded.

"About what?" I inquired.

"Who," he corrected me sharply.

"Excuse me, I must admit that at the moment I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." As I spoke, I sensed a slight edge about my words. Concentrating on it, I realized that magic affected all I said, and that they could likely sense the truth of any words I chose to speak. This did not matter to me, as I did not plan to lie. I had never heard of this Moire that Corwin asked about.

He turned to my companion. "What were you doing in the castle?" It was obvious my answer had been accepted and that I was dismissed.

His entire demeanor changed, and suddenly it was as if he was no longer the man who had met me in the forest, or who had been thrown into a retaining room with me. He seemed the cowed commoner, and were it not for the spell on the room, he might even have been believed. "I was just wanderin' through. I didna mean anythin'."

Corwin continued to question him roughly, while he insisted that he had come for the festivities and had merely lost his way in the castle. I was impressed by his acting job, and was having great difficulty holding back a smile and laugh at his new attitude. Finally it slipped out, first as a giggle, then a laugh, until I realized that Corwin had stopped talking and was glaring at me. I swallowed it with a cough, "Sorry."

The young man was still protesting his innocence, and Corwin tapped his foot in annoyance. "Put him away for a little while," he ordered. The guards hauled him off, and I had to smile.

"His personality changes remarkably when he's in the company of his betters," I commented mildly, a smile still on my face. It really was quite a remarkable acting job. Corwin didn't say anything, but he considered me closely.

"What..." his voice trailed off, "No, you don't have any clue." He looked annoyed at me, and I took quick offense, for it was only his fault that I didn't understand.

"My apologies," I began acidly, no trace of actual remorse in my voice. "I was dragged into this by your brother and no one has told me yet what is going on. If anyone would bother to fill me in, I would appreciate it."

"Would it be possible for you to make a drawing of the place you were with him?" Corwin asked suddenly.

I considered the question carefully. I have never been a slouch with pen and paper, but my skills were unremarkable. I could faithfully reproduce any scene, but I had no ability to instill it with life. "I could, but it certainly would not do what the one he left with me did. I don't have that magic."

"Nor do I expect you to." In truth, he did not seem to have much faith in myself at all. "But it would be a start." I nodded my agreement. "How long will this take?"

"A few hours," I decided. It would take that long to create something that would be a decent representation, a day to create something more substantial. "I do need to sleep, and then you could check with me mid-morning and see if what I have done is suitable."

I was escorted to a room, this one furnished with bed and desk, much more comfortable than the last, and provided with pen and paper. I slept first, and was surprised to be awoken early in the morn. I opened the door to be asked, "Do you think you would be able to get yourself back to that place?"

Sleepily I replied, "I haven't tried."

"We'll check back with you in the morning." And he was gone. To this day, I do not recall who came to my door that night. I merely know that once he was gone, I shut my door an returned to sleep, to be awakened again at a more reasonable hour. Several guards escorted me down to the harbor, answering my questions with explanations that we were going to go to a location where we could try some form of experiment in order to arrive in Bachman. I was then brought onto a boat.

I was brought into the presence of a large gentleman, whom I recognized from the previous gathering. Since almost all important persons whom I had met so far seemed to be part of Corwin and Bleys's family, I assumed he was as well. He turned from me and yelled loudly, "There's a female on the boat!" I laughed, and he introduced himself as Gerard and explained that he had cautioned due to superstition. And the boat sailed away from the harbor. Once again, I was leaving one land and headed for another, and I had not even heard the name of this kingdom.

Gerard had one of his men show me to a cabin downstairs and I was encouraged to continue with my drawing while we sailed. As there was little else I could accomplish, I did so. I had been working for several hours when Gerard approached and asked gruffly, "You do magic. Can you teleport?"

"I can try," I shrugged. It hadn't worked in the retaining room, but perhaps, here on the sea, it might.

"Can you take the both of us?" he then asked, still blunt.

"Again, I can try." I had no guarantees ever concerning my magic, and more than once it had gone wrong. But I had never been harmed in any of my attempts. But I did take extra care in the construction of my spell. Somewhere in the back of my mind I felt that his family might believe that I lost Bleys, and that they might not take it kindly if I now lost Gerard as well. When I was ready, I warned Gerard and cast the spell.

We splashed heavily into the water, the boat several hundred yards ahead of us. Gerard grabbed me roughly, and I sputtered, "It was unintended!" through mouthfuls of unpleasant tasting water.

He didn't seem to listen to me, swimming with one hand and catching up with the boat, amazingly enough. The boat circled and began to circle towards us, and we were hauled back up to the deck. As I shook myself off, wringing out my hair and my clothes, Gerard turned to me and ordered, "Stick to your drawing."

I shook my head, spraying water around the deck from my curls. "I said I'd try. I didn't say it necessarily was going to work." I stomped down to my cabin, sat down in front of the piece of paper as if I were going to draw, should anyone walk in, and tried once again to construct a spell. I briefly considered taking Gerard with me, but should I land us in the water again, I believed he would be slightly more than angry. But should I teleport myself successfully, I would understand the spell and be able to return to the boat to collect him on a second try. So I tried to teleport myself to Bachman.

I concentrated on my room in Bachman, decorated in a familiar manner, much like a place in my own homeworld of Crystal Tears. When I finished the spell, I was in the retaining room in the castle once again, the door open, a guard sleeping peacefully by the door. I looked around, but saw no one else in sight right away. If it worked, I could possibly take myself back to the boat, although I seemed to be better at the transport than the destination. Then again, I could also notify the king that I had left the boat, and leave the problem to him. I tried caution, and settled in to try one more time to take myself to Bachman. This time nothing happened, a familiar feeling from when I tried to leave this very room for the courtyard. Sighing, I began to wander the castle, until I was questioned by a guard.

"Could I possibly speak to the king?" I inquired politely.

"Random people wandering the halls do not just request an audience with the king," he informed me, looked more than a little piqued.

"I'm supposed to be with Gerard on a boat," I explained, believing that he should understand that I was on a mission for his king. "Unfortunately I'm not and have no way to get back there."

"Wait here," he ordered, leaving me in the room where I had met with Corwin and his family the previous evening. I paced the room, waiting impatiently.

Corwin walked in, shaking his head, muttering something that I couldn't understand. My eyes widened as I realized that my spell was gone. "Oh shit, I've got to fix that." I held up my hand to him, indicating that it would only take me a moment. I paced after him, arguing, but he simply walked away, and the look on his face and the people between us didn't look friendly. I could have gone through them, but instead, I simply backed away and replaced my spell. It only took me a few moments, but he didn't reappear for nearly half an hour. By that time, I was pacing, frustrated and angry.

"You're suppose to be on the boat," he said angrily.

"I was on the boat!" I yelled back at him. "And I've spent a significant amount of time trying to get back to the boat." It truly hurt, this man who looked so much like Jordan looking at me with such annoyance and contempt. It was not an expression I ever expected to see on Jordan's face, nor one which I would care to imagine seeing again. It was an honest mistake that I had made, and it galled me that I was being blamed for so much more.

"Fine, its been taken care of." He cut me off with a sharp movement of his hand, his eyes still unfriendly. He pulled a card out of his pocket. When I inquired what it might be, he told me simply, "What you call magic. Come here." He seemed more friendly suddenly, more like Jordan, and I stepped forward slightly, toward his reaching hand. And then suddenly, I was moving, stumbling forward onto the boat. And Gerard did not look pleased to see me.

I smiled hesitantly, and acknowledged the man applauding from the crow's nest. Then I looked at Gerard. "I miscalculated again," I tried to explain. At his glowering expression, and his hulking frame towering over mine, my explanation was hesitant, but ever stubborn, I tried to request some help in my endeavors, wondering aloud if there might be a way to return easily to the boat should my experiments go wrong another time.

"Try drawing," he told me curtly. And at his expression, I didn't think another mistake would be tolerated.

He walked away, and I stalked after him, looking something like a child following her parent, I'm certain. "What good will a picture do?"

He glanced back at me, his expression more mild, although still annoyed. "If all goes well, it will improve your accuracy."

I stormed downstairs in my frustration, slamming the door to my cabin behind me. I threw the paper on the bed and began to draw. After a few moments, the sound of water dripping caught my attention, and I glanced up to see a small leak in the wall of my cabin. It was unnerving watching the water invade my closed in world in this manner, so I walked upstairs to find Gerard. "Excuse me, I haven't traveled much by boat, but is there supposed to be water coming into my room?"

"Don't slam the door so hard," he informed me mildly, not even turning from his task.

This made no sense to me, for I had never before done structural damage in a fit of anger. Then again, I had rarely been this angry and taken it out on something other than a deserving human being. "I slammed the door and it made a leak?"

He nodded, and led the way downstairs. He moved over to the wall, and placed his hands, pulling the boards together. He didn't look at me as he left again, the leak fixed. I merely stared after him, amazed at the strength held in those hands, and vowed not to feel them about my neck in anger. Instead, I took his words to heart and began to draw, trying to fix the image in my mind as I did so.

The boat began to toss on the waves, and I could no longer draw with any accuracy. I managed to settle in to the flow of the boat, drawing somewhat but not at all well. Luckily, I do not suffer from the malady of the sea as many do, so my stomach was perfectly settled. I placed my drawing aside, heading upstairs to survey the situation. Topsides, the boat heaved in the wind, water washing over the sides. Gerard shouted orders to his men, crawling about the sails, pulling strongly on ropes to keep the boat afloat in the storm. He did not notice my presence, and realizing that the waves could easily wash a tiny frame like my own overboard, I slipped back downstairs.

The storm finally slowed and Gerard appeared at my door. "How do you progress?" I held up my drawing, as well as it could be considering the conditions. He glared at it. "I should have just given you crayons."

"What?" I snatched the picture away, tossing it on the bed and putting my hands on my hips indignantly. "Do you know how difficult it is to put pen to paper when you've got this boat tossing all over the place?"

His face suddenly fell and he actually looked somewhat embarrassed as he turned and left back upstairs. The boat remained calm after that, and I continued to draw. Eventually, we pulled up to land and I was escorted off, the boat sent away. He stared at my drawing carefully, then announced, "We're going on a trip. Can you ride?"

"Quite well," I assured him. Strangely, there were two horses up at the top of the hill once we reached the rise. I didn't recall having seen them before, and when I did see them, I kept my annoyance in check. One was very large, obviously built for Gerard. The other was a tiny pony, built in miniature, its back not quite reaching my back. I glared at it, and a few minutes later we came upon another horse of a more manageable size. I climbed on its back, sitting it easily, and we rode for a while.

Gerard appeared to be working some magic as we rode, although I could not recognize it as such. Try as I might, I could discern no spellcasting. Still, our surroundings changed around us, almost as if we moved from one outland to another. And Gerard himself was changing, growing younger, with a beard growing upon his chin as I watched, and weight dropping off as he slimmed slightly. I realized then that my observance of Corwin was still necessary. For if Gerard could so easily appear younger, than it was still possible that Corwin was my Jordan. And if he were, I was determined to understand why he treated me now as he did.

I tried to ask Gerard about his magic, but he did not answer me, seeming to concentrate carefully as we rode at a fair gallop. I was curious, for I knew that Bleys possessed magic to move from one outland to another, for he had spoken of taking me to my home. And I was most curious as to the workings of this magic, as I could not even sense the energy around me, yet it drew me along. But try as I might, he answered no questions.

We rode for quite a while, then he stopped us before a castle, somewhat similar to Bachman but not quite the same thing. "Is this it?"

It was obvious to me, at least, that this castle differed from my drawing in several major points. "No."

"Could you try again now?" he asked impatiently.

"Of course." My obedience was not to Gerard, but rather in deference to Bleys, whom I still sought to aid. Gerard rested while I cast, and I worked carefully at the spell. I understood how to accomplish the movement, and to take him with me, but I had to take care of the destination. And then we went.

He was angry with me again, for I had left the horses behind. And I had still not managed to arrive quite where I wanted to be. It was more like Bachman, but it still wasn't quite right. And I was starting to get tired. He glared at me, as usual, "Spend some time, and get it right."

He rested for a while, and I thought the spell through. I rarely think about my magic, I simply do it. And when he awoke I was no more certain of my casting than when he went to sleep. But I was more than willing to try. "This specific type of magic is not my area of expertise, as I am sure you have guessed," I informed him. And then we went.

We were in Bachman. It appeared to be the place where I had lived the better part of a year, but for the civil war we observed. "This wasn't here when I left," I mused, surprised that such a thing should have sprung up in less than a day. And as the strength of magic left me, I realized I was very tired. Which I voiced to Gerard, pointing out, "A war is not the place to take a nap, yet it is necessary."

We walked a ways away, the surroundings changing slightly, the sounds of war receding. We found a cave, cool and dark and slightly damp, and blessedly quiet. It was fine for my purposes, and I began to make my bed.

"I'm leaving," Gerard announced.

I looked up in surprise. "Are you going back there?" He shook his head, so I tried again, starting to worry, "Are you coming back here?"

"No." He was blunt, and ordered me as if I were one of his sailors. "Find out what happened there, if that is the right place."

"I'll do my best," I agreed, "If I can get the destination correct again." And then I slept. When I awoke, I cast carefully, and once again I was in Bachman. I smiled to myself, pleased to have cast correctly on the first try. It was dusk there, and I soon found that patrols moved through the area, despite the lull. To get past the patrols, it appeared I would need to try my magic again, and I landed in my own room in Bachman.

Despite the late hour, I determined to understand the situation, and moved out into the castle. There were many people about, many of whom I did not recognize and who did not seem to recognize me as well. Finally I found a familiar face and he was more than surprised to see me. From him I learned that a lieutenant of Balder's, one Damien by name, had named himself king in the absence of Balder and myself. Those who fought were malcontents who did not agree with Damien's decision. I also learned that they had declared Balder dead and now followed Damien wholeheartedly.

As I left these people, I was found by others whom I did not recognize who inquired roughly when I introduced myself as Balder's mage, "Do you pledge allegiance to King Damien?"

My loyalties lie where I choose, and as they still lay with Bleys until I found the truth of his situation, I said calmly, "Balder is not yet dead."

"Do you pledge to King Damien?" they insisted.

"My allegiance is owed to the king," I said, my teeth gritted carefully together.

They smiled. "Come meet the king," and they led me to Damien.

He greeted me amiably, "Ah, Phoebe, I have need of a mage to help me clean up what problems are left." While I steamed, never having enjoyed wars in the past, nor willing to help in this one, a runner came in and informed us that a new attack massed against the walls. Damien rushed to the battlements, and as I hesitated, I was able to determine that this attack was being pressed by a different group.

I moved to the battlement and observed siege machines rolling in against us. The castle was not well designed, and the walls began to fall easily against the onslaught. I removed myself from the battlements and the crossfire, and instead went to Balder's private chambers to try and claim his items. Two guards met my progress. "What has been done with Balder's personal effects?"

"They've been put away." They spoke in an official tone, brooking no argument. Of course, I argued. I tried every rational argument I could think of, stating that Balder and I had been working on plans for the protection of Bachman. These plans, I claimed, were stored among his own person papers, and I needed them in order to place them into motion now, when the kingdom was in need of protection. But it seemed, no matter what rational argument I placed forth, the guards chose to ignore me.

I began to grow annoyed, and held my temper in check. These men had done little more than stand in my way and did not deserve to be plastered to the walls, as I was considering doing. Gritting my teeth, I turned and walked away towards my room. I almost left, but I knew that without my help, Bachman would fall, and soon, it seemed. Still, it was a dilemma of their own devising, so leaving them to deal with it would make the punishment fit the crime quite well. But as for Bleys's possessions, I still held my loyalty to my king, and I felt that finding these things might help his family in finding him and possibly saving his life, were he still alive. For that reason, I stayed.

It wouldn't be long before the castle fell, so I had little time left to act. I turned and returned to the guards before Balder's room. Again, I tried reason. Again, I was ignored. I reached for his jerkin, stepping back and drawing as his sword met my progress. "I have not been beaten," I informed him silently. "Now, will you unlock the items."

He did not look dismayed, but he did answer, "I don't have the key."

Nor did he know where they were kept, referring me to Damien. "At least at swordpoint you seem to be more honest," I told him, backing down the hallway. With a loud crash, I heard one wall fall as I moved to find Damien. The battle had moved into the castle, and Damien was no longer on the battlements. I pushed my way through the troops, moving towards the throne area along with the push of people. I could see the enemy's leader, a large individual, at the head of the troops, and I aimed for him.

The leader looked similar to Balder, only fair where he had been dark. I dropped back from the battle slightly, finding a vantage point to observe the scene in the throne room. Upon my arrival, I realized that Gerard had arrived. He turned to me, "Well, what did you find out?"

I gave him a synopsis of the civil war, but he wasn't impressed, claiming that it was obvious. Then I explained, "I've been trying to get at his personal effects since the battle began ."

"We'll get to it, one way or another," Gerard sighed, obviously not pleased.

"I was trying to find Damien to learn where the items had been stored," I explained.

"Damien won't be answering," he said shortly.

"You've killed him already?" The thought left an unpleasant taste in my mouth. Had Damien killed Balder, then I would have felt justified, but I found myself wondering if he really deserved to die. It was too late to change the facts, but I wondered also about Gerard and what sort of man would kill so quickly. Admittedly, Damien had taken over his brother's kingdom. It wasn't the sort of moral problem I had dealt with before, and I admit, I had to wait until later to sort it out.

The fighting was over, and Gerard began to sack the castle, bringing things to me, asking for approval. It took some time (and I saw much of my own belongings pass me by) but finally they tore up a floor and found the king's belongings. Gerard looked through them carefully, while I watched anxiously. "Anything?"

He shook his head. "No. There's nothing here."

"Dead end?" I inquired.

"I think so." As I looked around, he pulled a card from his pocket to his hand, staring at it. I glanced back in time to see him disappear. Around me, his troops still tore the castle apart, sacking it cheerfully. I backed my way to my room, shut the door against interruptions, and tried to transport myself to Amber. And arrived in the cave where I had slept once before.

It was a good place to take a nap, which I once again found myself needing. For it was going to take some time to find my way back to the strange outland, in which Bleys's brother ruled, and which I still had not yet learned was Amber.

Tears of Crystal is copyright 1995 by Deb Atwood. Hardcopies are limited to a single copy for personal use only.

Chapter Six, Pestilence

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