Phoebe -- A Description (public view)

BRAND'S AMBER

When I first learned to teleport, I was not very good at defining the destination. At least, not when I planned to travel any significant distance. Short transports, between two close outlands, or within an outland I was very good at. But anything requiring more precision, or more power, I could not seem to get the hang of. Which is why, when I was desperate to return to Devane to discover what had gone wrong with my magic, I instead found myself in a small cell, faced with a stranger and a rude young man with whom I had recently shared a locked room. I wasn't happy to be there.

The young man was just waking up when I arrived, and he appeared to be searching for something he expected to be under his head. The stranger was chained to a wall and seemed more surprised to see us than to be there himself. I looked around, muttering, "Damn. This is not where I intended to be."

At the sound of my voice, the young man looked up, and we recognized each other. I was no more pleased to see him than he was to see me. Granted, he could speak my language, but he was no one I enjoyed conversing with. He immediately turned from me and began to stuff something in his ears. Presumably to shut out my voice. I tried to speak, instead, to the stranger in chains, dressed in rags. He was yelling to someone in the next cell, someone named Jan, and I managed to determine that his own name was Serge and that we were in the dungeon belonging to someone named Milo. It wasn't terribly useful information.

Jan stopped talking to Serge after a moment, and instead began a short conversation with someone who introduced herself as Angel. When he mentioned that he was a musician, my ears perked up, and I called out.

"That sounds like Phoebe," Angel called back.

I was surprised, and momentarily speechless. "Yes, I am. Who are you?"

She sounded positive I should know. "Angel." I was silent, so she continued, "I was in the meeting with King Corwin."

Ah. She was part of the king's large family. I wondered if she were anything like the others I had met. I would prefer her to be more like Bleys than Gerard. Serge began to speak up again, to Jan, and suddenly I could no longer understand him. Had my spell worn out? I settled myself in the corner and began to repair the damage. I never managed to complete the spell, as the rude young man (whom I later learned was named Jaroslav) slumped over, and Serge countered my casting. When I looked around, there was also an unconscious form in the room with us, lying on the floor.

As I silently stared, Serge began his own casting, and Jaroslav pulled out some sort of metal pipe from his pack, pointing it at me, making it click loudly. "Explain yourself. Quickly."

I was bewildered. It had been a simple spell and I hadn't expected it to turn out quite like this. Jaroslav was pale. "I was trying to fix the fact that he didn't understand me," I gestured at Serge, who was ignoring us in favor of casting.

Serge's spell completed, and he spoke up, gesturing at the body on the floor. "Can we pick this sucker up?" Thankfully, I understood him now.

Both Jaroslav and I bent over the newest addition to our cell. It appeared that he had been in the cell before, out of sight along the dark edges, until I began to cast my spell. And now he was going rapidly into shock, his vital signs failing. It reminded me of Fenzir, and I realized what had happened. "Oh dear." Jaroslav turned away to look at the door, examining the lock carefully. Serge watched Jaroslav, both of them ignoring our dying newcomer. "Excuse me, but can either of you do something for this man?" After all, they both were spellcasters. And although I could heal him, I was unsure what affect that might have on my currently living companions, remembering the death of the villagers in Bachman when I healed Fenzir. "Look, if neither of you does anything, I'll have to at the risk of you getting mad at me again."

"Shut up!" Jaroslav yelled. His voice was too high pitched for a proper bellow, which would have suited his mood far better. He bent again over the newcomer and finally realized how quickly he was failing. Concentrating, he cast what I assumed was a healing spell, and then the stranger seemed to breathe more easily. That taken care of, he turned his attention back to the door.

I turned to Serge, who had, at some time, managed to come loose from his shackles. "Did you notice anything when I cast?"

"I felt lightheaded," he admitted, none too happily. "Like a mental attack spell."

"It wasn't," I insisted. I was annoyed, as it appeared that my magic was only getting worse. Jaroslav turned from his work to glare at me and signed a glowing symbol in the air. I started to say something and realized that the world was silent around me. I could hear nothing that Jaroslav or Serge said, nor anything that I myself said. My face drawn up in annoyance, I hastily began to remedy the situation. He couldn't possibly silence me that easily.

I cast carefully, trying not to draw from anyone near me. As I cast, I saw Jaroslav try something, and look slightly disgruntled as I merely kept casting. I smiled, at his annoyance. I also watched interestedly as Jaroslav continued to play with the lock. I do not believe he knew when to quit. He did not recognize when something was beyond him, and merely plugged along, trying over and over again, and failing. Finally he tried to force his hand between the bars of the grate in the door. I could see easily that his large palm would never fit, so I walked up, my hand held out. He blocked my way to the door at first, trying to attach a mirror to some sort of stick in order to put it out through the bars. The mirror refused to stay attached, and I pointed out by demonstrating that I could slip my slender hand between the bars. This dungeon was not built for someone of my tiny size. My progress was stopped by the metal bands about my wrist, but for his purposes, it would be enough. He merely wished to use the mirror, it appeared, to look up and down the hallway.

Of course, he would not hand me the mirror, continuing to try his own methods until finally, the mirror dropped on the other side of the door, out of our reach. Leaving us to plan again. And me to my casting.

Jaroslav interrupted me briefly to hand me something to cover my nose and mouth, and he started to build a fire beneath the door. Serge was casting in his own corner, and as the smoke began to billow, Jaroslav pushed the smoke beneath the door. A moment later, Jaroslav handed each of us a small leaf, something like a mint. He placed one in his own mouth, indicating that we should eat our own. I was about to put it in my mouth when I noticed that mine looked slightly different from the one he had given Serge and the one he had eaten himself. I very politely refused, silently, and handed it back to him. Then it was time to see if my spell had worked. "What was the leaf for?"

He didn't look up. "Something to counteract the smoke."

That didn't answer my question. "Why was mine different?"

"I have a natural immunity." He sounded sincere, but I doubted his answer.

"What about him?" I gestured at Serge, not really needing an answer to the question, but pointing out to Jaroslav that I knew he had tried something with me, but not with Serge.

He didn't seem bothered. "Simple mistake."

I'm not sure if Serge caught all the undercurrents. Either way, it didn't matter. I had made sure Jaroslav knew I didn't trust a damned thing he did, and that I'd be watching him. Jaroslav bent back to blowing his smoke out, and we could hear yells of "FIRE!" from next door.

That reminded me of something important. What did these people know about our situation? I had been silenced before I had a chance to find out. "If Angel's next door, we're probably in Amber."

"Milo's house," Serge offered cheerfully, not missing a beat in his casting. I looked at him curiously, and he described a man with strange hair, and generally dressed in an odd form of leather armor. I smiled, remembering him from the family gathering I had been brought to for questioning. I began to explain about the outland being a kingdom, and slowly I began to think I understood somewhat.

We chatted for a while, still, until the next unusual event. In the meantime, I managed to learn that the gathering I had originally seen in the forest was the beginnings of a scavenger hunt for a large battle axe. I wasn't certain why. And as we talked, outside our cell were many footsteps. Jaroslav stepped to the side of the door, "Tell them and I'll give it to you," as he drew his sword.

We did not have to worry, however, as we heard the distinctive whoosh of a bellows in the hallway, and the smoke began to blow back in. We carefully held the filters in place, avoiding the smoke. And just then, our stranger on the floor woke up. His eyes opened, and he looked around, staying carefully still. "May I ask, where am I?"

The three of us explained, my voice finally gaining precedence as I explained about Amber. Once again, we all tried to reconstruct our appearance in the cell. And we determined that the stranger's name was Reginald of Whitehall. And we all continued to chat idly, trying to understand our situation. Jaroslav, in the background, finally tired of trying to escape and tried to ignore us and rest.

Reginald was a noble. It was obvious in his manner, his condescendence. I didn't particularly like him, and I liked him less the more we spoke.

Still, we continued to chat, for lack of anything better to do. Until the wall between the two cells disappeared. There was a blond woman, whom I recognized and assumed was Angel. There was also another woman, a man (Jan, I assumed), and a strange metal object, very large and taking up quite a bit of space. I moved to speak with Angel, into her cell. She seemed somewhat reasonable. We could talk somewhat, within all the noise. But we were far from private. For all of us had moved into a single cell as we spoke, into the cell with the metal creature. It was crowded.

Still, I tried to speak with Angel. "Is any of your family aware that we are down here?"

"Just a minute." She pulled out a small stack of cards and began to shuffle through them. I recognized Corwin's and Bleys's picture magic and peered, interested, over her shoulder. She stopped on one of the pretty redhead and stared at it, but nothing appeared to happen. Angel did not look pleased. Jan was there as well, peering over her other shoulder, and began to pester her to try the cards himself. Angel refused. It appeared that the cards were powerful magic, and she was reluctant to hand them to anyone else.

"Do you have one of," I hesitated, trying to remember what Corwin had named Balder. Ah yes, "Bleys?" She nodded. "May I see it? I do not need to hold it, just see it."

The card was of a redhead, tall and broad, and not looking a thing like Balder. The one of Corwin looked more like Jordan, younger, but again, when Angel stared, nothing happened. Again, she did not look pleased. Around us, I tried to ignore the chaos that is inherent with seven individuals and a large metal creature locked in a cell together, and to keep Angel looking at the cards.

Angel ignored me, however, distracted by someone who suggested that she try to convince the guards to set us free, as she is a member of the family of Amber. She walked over to the door. "Guards! Guards!"

We could hear footsteps, and then, "Whaddya want?" There was a pause, and then suddenly, "Hey!"

Everyone, once again, began talking, explaining how we came to be in a single cell. Obviously the guards had had little to do with the change in our cell structure. The guards did not seem pleased.

"Do you recognize me?" Angel called out over the din.

"No."

Angel looked disturbed. "Who is king here?"

"Brand!"

That stopped all of us who knew that in Amber, Corwin is king. Angel motioned us all close, "Please come here. I need to tell you all something. And no questions until I'm done."

She went on to tell us the story of her uncle, Brand, someone she determined as some sort of evil man. He had managed to cause a major war in Amber, but he was rumored to be dead at the end. He had also been insane, and desirous of destroying the world and remaking it in his image. Angel feared, on seeing that we appeared to be in Amber, but with Brand as king, that he had succeeded. I agreed that that may be possible, but with the abundance of outlands, it was also quite possible we were someplace else entirely. And she accepted that as a possiblity.

However, the presence of her uncle was of little import to the rest of us. We simply desired to leave our cell. Only Angel worried, in that if Brand had recreated the universe in his image, it might be a twisted place.

"If only I could cast," I muttered to myself, wanting nothing more than to destroy the cell door and escape. I hate to be caged, and being surrounded by all these people, and inneffective, only made it worse.

"May I state," Angel began, not caring whether we gave her permission or not, "I do not believe this place will be a good place to be soon. If Brand has remade the universe, then he might have already done away with all my aunts and uncles and be on his way to take care of us soon."

"Why us?" Reginald voiced the question we all had.

"Well, he'll care about me, certainly." She turned to Reginald. "And you are in the family deck."

I did not know what she meant by her deck, but soon learned that she meant her deck of picture magic cards. When Reginald asked, she held a card with a painting of him on it before him, refusing to let him take it from her. However, Angel was still thinking about my magic. "Could you do something, although it might be difficult for us?"

My expression was carefully innocent, as the others realized that I had been the cause of their discomfort earlier. Once the furor died down, I did apologize. After all, I had never intended to pull my power from my cellmates.

Since magic seemed out of the question, Angel had another suggestion. "Is your sword magical? Could it possibly be used to open the lock?"

"I'm not certain." I had never used Lleuad as such, and did not intend to admit I knew little of its abilities. "I doubt trying to open the lock with my sword will help. I could possibly reach through the bars, if you'd like."

"How much of your arm can you get out?" Serge inquired.

"Up to the wristbands," I said calmly, displaying this ability.

"Take them off," Jaroslav suggested. As this made sense, I tried to do so, to no avail. Surprised, I tried harder and realized that perhaps I should have tried this years ago. For the bands that Jordan had gifted me with appeared stuck to my wrists, unable to be removed.

There was a bright flash and another figure appeared in the room. It wasn't a magical transport as far as I could tell, but he had to have arrived somehow. Angel glanced over, "Hello, Trystan."

Interesting choice of names. Of course, everything went chaotic again, as we all tried to explain what was going on, and determine how Trystan had come to join us.

"Hey, Trystan, guess who's king here," Angel asked, her voice carefully casual. When he shrugged, she was again calm, "Your father."

So he was a member of the family of Amber. And as well, son of Angel's uncle Brand, a man she defined as insane. Still, he did have one useful piece of information for us. He had arrived more than an hour after we had, but he had been in Amber until then. An Amber where Corwin was king. So it appeared that Angel's fears were unfounded, and we were merely in another outland, one where her uncle was king and happened to look like Amber. And if we were elsewhere, then given enough determination, we should be able to return to Amber.

Again, there was some discussion of how to escape. And once again, it was determined that I should not try to cast a spell. I wished to communicate with Corwin, perhaps, hoping that he might be able to use his picture magic to retrieve me. Angel kept coming up with the strangest suggestions, and she returned to the idea of my using Lleuad to open the door.

"Fine." I drew Lleuad carefully, not wanting to stick someone on my way, and carefully placed the tip inside the lock, jiggling it gently. Nothing happened with the lock, but upon caerful inspection I found that I had dulled the sword somewhat at the tip. As it is always important to keep a sword at perfect sharpness, I setlled myself on the floor, sword across my lap, and dug through my pack for a whetstone.

"Ow!" I paused in my sharpening. not sure where the voice had come from. "Stop that!"

"What?" It appeared that Lleuad had suddenly gained a voice and was speaking to me. "Are you speaking to me?"

"Don't do that!" Not only was Lleuad speaking, but it sounded downright annoyed.

"If you don't want to be sharpened, you're not much of a sword," I informed it succinctly. Yes, I was speaking to my sword. It had never shown any inclination to speak before.

"You don't have to break me in the lock," it informed me acidly. "Do you know what kind of a headache I got from that?"

Lleuad had an attitude. "Since when do you talk? You've been quiet for how many years now?"

"Since I've had something important to say," was the answer. And all around me, everyone else was silent, listening to me argue with my sword.

Jaroslav walked slightly closer, "Excuse me, piece of talking steel. Get it over with and kill her."

"No," Lleuad disagreed. "She's been useful to me so far."

"Useful?" The sword was the tool, not the wielder. "Do you have a way through the door?"

"You."

At that, a conversation sprung up around me on the value of using my slight frame as a battering ram. It didn't sound good. I glanced down at the sword in my lap, asking loudly, "Are you thirsty?"

There was a slight pause. "Yes."

There was a sudden silence in the room around me, and I said calmly, "Stick with me and you can feed on any one of these crackpots." It was only a threat, and it was taken as such, and there was no more mention of Phoebe as a battering ram. I went back to sharpening my sword, sheathing it once I was done.

When I was done, Angel had her deck of cards out again, staring at one of a place. Again, she seemed disgruntled. Jan began an argument with her, trying to borrow her pictures, but Angel was completely unwilling to let them go. I wandered over. "Angel, those are pictures of everyone in your family, correct?" She nodded. "Could I look through them? I don't need to go anywhere with them, I'd just like to look at them."

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

I decided on honestly. "Your king reminds me of someone. I'd like to see if there is anyone else in the family who might look like him."

"I'll show you," she finally agreed. She slowly sifted through the cards. The deck seemed to be divided into two portions and totalled 72 cards, the more used cards at the front and some others at the back. I found out later that those at the back are of family members either unknown or possibly not even born yet. In the latter section there were cards depicting Reginald, then a few cards later one of Jan, followed by one of Serge. Jaroslav, Lucretia and myself did not appear in the deck. Angel's card was in the earlier portion. As for Corwin, there was only the one in the deck.

Angel glanced up, noting that we had been surrounded by the others in the room, also curious about the cards. She carefully tucked the cards back into her pocket. "Hello cousin, uncle, or whatever," she addressed Serge, Jan and Reginald. "And you two," she gestured at Jan and Serge, "are probably even more closely related."

They began to argue, Jan and Serge, and turned away. Angel palmed something to me, and I found a card in my hand. I glanced at it, and my face fell. Staring back at me was a face that could have been my own, save that the skin was a warm peach, the hair brown, and the attire black and white. Nor were there any signs of Lleuad, my wristbands or my crystal. I might lose Lleuad someday, and I suppose it is possible that I might find a way to remove the bands, but I will never willingly give up the crystal. That is a symbol of my son, and I will wear it as long as I live.

Around us, a din was quickly growing in intensity. Lucretia had begun to tap her motorcycle, resulting in a clanging sound, rhythmically pounding. Serge joined in, appearing to play some sort of instrument in the air, music beginning to sound. It was somewhat discordant, and very loud, and soon Jaroslav jumped up from where he had been resting and ran to the door. He clung to the bars and yelled, "I'll talk! I'll do anyting! Just make them stop!"

Everyone laughed, and the din continued. My head soon began to pound. I turned to Angel, who looked only slightly more comfortable than myself. "Soon I'm going to begin casting, whether they like it or not."

"Taking out the door might be good," she agreed.

"The problem is, I can't guarantee that when I finish casting, anyone will be able to walk," I cautioned.

"I might be able to protect them," Serge volunteered. I suddenly realized that the string music was gone, and Serge was paying attention to our conversation. It also appeared that people were beginning to feel as caged as myself, and were willing to allow me to do anything to break out. Except for Jaroslav.

Serge and I planned a way to try to protect our cellmates while I cast. Once everything was readied, Jaroslav was blocking the door. All the others were in agreement, except for Jaroslav. He knelt before the door, refusing to move out of my way, holding that pipe object in his hand again as I knelt down near the lock. I began cautiously to cast, concentrating on the door. Then suddenly, a sharp pain in the side of my head.

I looked up to see Jaroslav standing over me, the object in his hand obviously what he had hit me with. He looked briefly surprised that I was glaring at him, not much bothered by his attack. His voice was clipped. "The last time you all but knocked me unconscious. I don't want you casting any spells."

I stood. "I believe the majority said to try and unlock the door so we could get out," I reminded him, backing up the point by drawing Lleuad.

"I believe this place is a monarchy," he commented mildly.

Reginald's voice came from the corner. "And neither of you is king. So do it!"

"Do you want the door unlocked or not?" I asked loudly.

There was a chorus of agreement. Jarolsav looked at the others. "Then back her up."

Angel stepped next to me, drawing her sword as well. She is not much taller than myself, though built after the pattern of her relatives, so not so small boned as myself. And like myself, she appears to be no more than a teenager. As we faced down Jaroslav, I almost laughed at the image we must have made.

There was a soft clang from behind us, and Lucretia suddenly announced, "I found a crowbar." She passed the metal object to Serge, and Jaroslav agreed that Serge could approach the door. As long as someone was going to get us out, I was satisfied, and I backed off, sheathing Lleuad.

Jan began to cast, and Serge pried at the bars in the grill of the door. One bent slightly, but it wasn't enough yet. We encouraged them to try again, since I could get my arm out to the elbow but I still couldn't reach anything. We needed for one of the people with a longer arm, who could possibly reach the hinges, able to put their arm between the bars. Serge began to pry at the bars again, and suddenly the wall around the door disappears.

My reaction was instantaneous. I dove for the opening, tripping over Jaroslav's outstretched foot and slamming into the floor. I hopped up quickly, my pride more hurt than my body, and more than angered enough to do something about the situation. As I stood, I used momentum to carry me forward, drawing my sword from my back, driving the hilt into his shoulder as I attempted to grab him at the neck and pulling him to me. I managed to grab him, just as I felt his dagger skid off my ribs and across my arm. I let go of him and his own grip slid off the dagger as he crumpled to the ground. The wound in his shoulder was seared, cautorized.

"Do you wish to finish him off?" Angel asked, and I had the strange feeling my sword agreed.

"No." I tore a strip and removed the dagger to bind my wounds, then followed her as she set off down the hallway.

"Do you think you'll be up to doing something real tough?" Angel called back over her shoulder.

"What?"

"The only way I know out of here real fast. Walking the Pattern."

She was making no sense, seemingly babbling inanities. And she continued, "Whether or not we walk it, it is probably best that we check on it at least."

I managed to learn that by walking this glowing spiral, the family members were able to move from outland to outland, or shadows as Angel termed them. This explained how Balder had planned to take me home. "Yes, he can do it and I can do it," Angel agreed. "And as soon as you walk the Pattern, you can do it too."

It sounded like a simple magic. By simply following a Pattern inscribed on the floor one could learn a fantastic magic. But then Angel pointed out that only those people who were in her family, and therefore in her deck, could accomplish this. "Do you see this?" I poked my own dark skin where it was visible above my arm bands. "Does that look like the card in your deck? This is how I was born, and its the same color I've been for over 100 years."

"Its not necessarily how you're always going to be," Angel insisted. Apparently these people are able to change their shape as they move from outland to outland in order to match whatever outland they were in. Since Balder had had sun-bronzed skin and dark hair, a classical hero of his land, yet the picture of Bleys showed a red-haired man, this explained a lot. But I still couldn't be positive that that one card was a picture of myself.

And from the death she described to walk the Pattern without being one of her family, I did not plan to try readily.

She did agree, and went on to other topics. "I still think you should have killed that man."

I turned, curious. "Why? Has he killed others?"

She paused momentarily, obviously at a loss how to answer. "No, but he hit you when you were concentrating on that spell."

I shrugged. "And I left him in considerable pain. The punishment fit the crime." As far as I was concerned, the case was closed.

We finally arrived at the room, and Angel unlocked it with a key hanging by the door, rehanging the key once done. There were a coupld of guards in the room, who immediately blocked our entry. I was ready to knock them unconscious, but Angel said, "It will only be a moment." She stepped inside and quickly stabbed one, taking a slice in her arm, then killed the other one.

"You killed them for no reason," I said calmly, not letting my anger show.

"It was quicker." She stepped fully in the room, looking around. "Uh-oh, this explains a lot. This isn't the Pattern in Amber. Either Brand erased it and started over, or we're in one of his private places." I was completely confused, so Angel gave me a quick lesson in the ways of her world.

Someone originally drew her Pattern, creating it. That created all the outlands between Amber and someplace called the Courts of Chaos. This made a small amount more sense than what she had stated before. What was a frightening thought was that every outland was a reflection of Amber. For then, everything would be a reflection of Brand's mad imagination.

Speaking of Brand gave me an opening. "Now, who is this Trystan?" I had had enough time to think on this topic, and wonder. For you see, if Corwin were truly Jordan, than he and I had a child, born dead, named Trystan. Yet here was a son of Brand's, another Amberite, strangely enough also named Trystan. I understand that it is coincidence, but I had to find out more just the same.

"Brand's son, who was supposedly killed by his father, but apparently not," Angel explained.

"When was he killed by his father?"

"Long before I was born." Careful inquiry found that Angel was only fifty years old, which means she was born about the time that I met Jordan. Meaning that the coincidence could be ignored. "Now, lets settle a question."

She pulled out one of her cards and concentrated on it. Naturally, it didn't work. Then she pulled out one of herself and tried again, with no further luck. She stared at the card, then smiled. "Ah, I remember that the one who created these might have tied them to the Pattern. And if Brand drew his own, he might have made all my Trump not work."

Trump was the name of the picture magic. I filed that away for future reference, so when I heard it I'd recognize it. But it was still magic.

Trystan arrived just then, "There's a way out, through an open hall where you can run for the door while guards shoot. I'm not moving very fast." He gestured at his two broken legs, and I immediately offered to fix them. Angel was quick to comment on the fact that I had not yelled healed myself, so I made plans to take care of both problems.

While I prepared my spells, Trystan and Angel discussed the Pattern. Angel supposed that perhaps Trystan could walk it, since his father had created it, but she could not, since Brand was not her father. I merely resolved to avoid these Patterns.

Trystan had some more pieces of the puzzle for us. He had left Amber when someone called him through a Trump, and he went to an undetermined outland to meet someone named Bald. Naturally, I thought of Balder, but he described someone else. This man carried a purple stone of some kind, and brought him to something that looked rather like the Pattern we stood in front of. And that had allowed Trystan to teleport, and he had ended up with us.

My spell was just about complete, so we moved into the passageways, away from the Pattern. Angel wandered off to avoid being near as I cast, and when my spell went off, Trystan felt better with little damage to either of us in return. Then I set about taking care of my own small wound. As I completed the spell, both of my companions fell unconscious. Not into shock this time, and I could manage to wake them after a while. Neither of them was happy with me.

Since my magic wasn't an option, we needed another way out. Trystan was more than ready to try the Pattern, despite his lack of current health. Angel counseled against it, but he tried it anyway. Both Angel and I settled in to watch him walk.

He started his walk confidently, sparks starting to fly up around his feet. He was barely into it when he began to falter, slowing down. Angel cautioned against pulling him off, and nor should he step off of his own accord. We couldn't step on the Pattern to help him around. So I began to cast. Angel, wisely, left the room, trying to escape any effects my spell might have. The slower Trystan moved, the faster I cast, trying desperately to instill him with energy before her stopped completely and died on the Pattern. I worked my magic furiously, desperately. I worked to save his life more for his namesake than for anything else. A drew on the strength of the tree, on the crystal about my neck. Just before the spell completed, I saw the door behind me open. I glanced back, expecting to see Angel, and instead saw a pillar of fire flowing into the room. Then the spell completed, and everything went black.

I woke up to Angel nudging me awake. I sat up quickly, a mistake. "Ow. Where's Trystan?"

She pointed to the center of the Pattern, where we could see Trystan's body curled. I hoped he was alive. "I'm not going to try to wake him," I decided, not wanting to cast again right away.

"What's the puddle?"

"Puddle?" I spun to see where Angel was pointing. On the floor was a slick puddle of something silvery, that oozed away from her toes as she nudged it. I described the pillar of fire that had entered the room just as I finished my spell. "I assume that must be the pillar of fire."

Angel was curious then how long we had been unconscious for, and tried to ask my sword. I joined in, but Lleuad was obstinately silent. "Perhaps it doesn't talk and someone was just making fun of you."

It was possible, I agreed. I pulled out my whetstone and began to sharpen the sword. Angel poked and prodded the puddle, jumping out of the way as a pillar of fire began to crawl up her leg. I smiled. "As I said, a pillar of fire arrived."

"Hello?" Angel looked curiously at the pillar. She had tried to converse first with Lleuad, now with a flame. I finished my sharpening and sheathed Lleuad. Then I turned to awakening Trystan, yelling to him.

Angel left as I yelled, claiming she needed to check something out. Eventually, Trystan managed to wake up, slightly confused. I yelled out, "May I suggest that you now use your position?"

"I was going to, but I seemed to fall prey to what everyone else did when your spell went off," he yelled back.

I didn't need to be reminded of it. But it had worked, and Trystan had made it to the center of the Pattern, and perhaps now he could escape and then rescue us. Overall, I was pleased. Until Angel came back and told me of the havoc I had wreaked. "I took a look around, and except for 28 dead guards, this isn't Amber. So you might score some points with Corwin or my mother," she looked at Trystan, "if you go there and tell them that we're trapped here. Tell them something is us. I would have questioned one of the guards, but they're all dead."

Did she have to rub it in? I didn't appreciate it, since it wasn't my intent to kill anyone. At least I hadn't intended to kill them, unlike Angel and the guards.

Trystan was about to leave when Angel called out, "Did your memory return?"

"I don't know."

His answer felt honest to me, but Angel called out, "You should be able to lie better than that. A simple yes or no delivered quickly is usually best."

"But I really don't know," he protested. "Its like my memory is little pieces falling off a truck that's slowly driving away from me."

I had no idea what he was saying, but his intention was clear. And then he was gone. And Angel, myself and the pillar of fire went to find out what I had done to the others we had once shared a cell with.

As we walked upstairs, I saw dead bodies as we passed through the castle. The flame led the way, apparently knowing where we were going. Just outside the castle gate we found more of our company. Serge, Jan and Jaroslav lay unconscious on the ground. Serge woke up first, with our help, and neither Jan nor Jaroslav was in good condition. Jaroslav was barely alive, and at times we weren't even certain we could find a pulse.

"Who's the pillar of flame?" Serge asked curiously.

Looking around at who we had gathered together, "I'm calling him Flame. It's either Reginald, Lucretia or the motorcycle."

Serge pointed out motorcycle tracks leading away, so we decided it must be Reginald, but for the moment, we'd continued to call it Flame. As Serge and Angel exchanged current events, Jan slowly woke. Jaroslav wasn't going to be waking up any time soon, if at all. We rigged a travois to carry Jaroslav, and then we made our way to the harbor to find a boat. According to Angel, if we sailed she could find a way to move to an outland further from Brand's Amber, where we might be able to make our way home. This made sense, since Gerard had seemed to be doing something similar when we were traveling to Bachman.

Angel claimed a boat, herding us aboard and we sailed quickly before the owner caught up. I wasn't pleased, but as the owner was still alive, I figured that we could eventually return it. Unfortunately, the boat wasn't helping our situation. We sailed away from Brand's Amber, but Angel could not shift from outland to outland, and we could not use her Trumps still. We all tried concentrating on the one she had of the courtyard in Amber, but nothing happened other than it growing slightly warm. Eventually Angel found what she termed a shadowpath on which we could sail to another outland. The next day we spent skating further from land, in a tediously long journey.

It seemed we sailed for quite some time, with me growing swiftly bored. I couldn't cast anything significant on the boat, although a test of a simple illusion was fairly easy and didn't seem to bother anyone around me. But other than that and idle discussion, there was little to do on board ship.

We had reached what Angel felt might be the end of easy travel on the shadowpath after a day or so of travel. In order to continue we had to move further from land than was wise in our boat, and we were unsure we wanted to take that risk. The choice was taken from our hands as we heard a roaring noise. Rushing up on the boat was a giant wave, that swept over even as we all grabbed planks to cling to in the water.

The plank was torn from my hands as I hit the water, the force driving the breath from my body. The water pulled me under the boat, and I had to fight my way back to the surface through choppy and resistant water. Again and again it pulled me under and I fought my way back just long enough to grab a breath before tumbling under again. And then finally I broke through, gasping, and it had calmed enough for me to tread water and take stock of my surroundings. I could see Serge fastening someone to a plank which already carried another body, and I swam to meet him. My arms were heavy, and when he gestured for me to climb onto the plank where Jaroslav's inert body lay, and Jan was just coughing back to consciousness, I agreed. Serge began to swim towards the land, Angel coming up behind us and helping to push. We were miles from land, and the trip took hours. I took the chance to rest somewhat.

We were all exhausted when we reached land. I hardly noticed the creature that had flown over our heads for the last few hours, large and reptilian, I believed, with a wing span I couldn't quite gauge. It didn't seem unfriendly until we were setting up camp, Jan moving slowly and Jaroslav still lying limp on the ground. Serge set up wards while the rest of us made camp. We were first alerted by the swooshing sound of wings, and when we looked over, the creature was already flying away, Jaroslav's body disappearing between its teeth.

We were somewhat horrified, but I believe I speak for Angel and I myself when I say that we didn't really miss him. I had not intended to nearly kill Jaroslav, and given time, I probably would have had to try to heal him. But after the interference of the creature, I was resolved of any responsibility to him. Although, I must admit that I was not thrilled about this creature continuing to follow us. After all, what if it got hungry again?

We slept then, somehow, and once we awoke we again looked for a way to travel away from the Pattern and hopefully back to Amber. Angel claimed to have found another shadowpath, this one over land, and we began to move along it. Unfortunately, we hadn't traveled long when it ran out, only a short path between two outlands. Once again, we were at a loss. While the others talked, I reasoned to myself that perhaps we had just found the way for me to cast a spell without endangering the others.

I wanted to try to contact Corwin. I felt that if I could reach him, he could then use his picture magic to release us from our imprisonment. And if I were to be in one outland while casting, I could not possibly draw energy from my companions if they remained in another outland. I spoke of this, and Angel agreed. Together we walked back to the shore where we had begun the morning, then she left me alone for thirty minutes.

I carefully constructed the spell, but to no avail. It was as if he did not exist, or might be dead. Or perhaps whatever kept the cards from working also kept my magic from working properly. I had also begun to suspect that we might not be in simply another outland, but in another universe entirely. By the way Angel described the Pattern and the construction of the universe, that might make sense. And with things I later found out, it continued to seem a good theory.

However, when Bleys had disappeared, he had not known to where he was to travel. Angel had intimated during one of our long conversations that he and Brand were enemies. If this were truly a world created by Brand, and if we had been imprisoned by Brand, than it was possible that Bleys might also have been captured and imprisoned somewhere near. So contacting him would make perfect sense. I began to construct my spell. I did not manage to complete my spell before the others returned to collect me. I glanced over at the ruined vegetation and continued to cast, feeling that perhaps they would be wise enough to return the way they had come before my spell interfered with their energy. I was not so lucky. Instead, a rotten mango, dropped from a nearby tree, struck me in the middle of the forehead, interrupting my concentration. I glared at Serge, who merely shrugged and smiled.

"I wasn't done yet," I argued. "It didn't work for Corwin, so I was trying Bleys."

"You're changing the plan," Angel argued back. "You're not supposed to change the plan."

She had a point, but I honestly hadn't thought it would take so long to cast my spells. While Angel and I argued, Serge collected rotten mangos, continuing to look warily at me, should I begin to cast. I finally managed to convince them to go away and allow me to cast another spell. "We'll be back in a half an hour," Angel stressed the time.

"Half hour," I nodded, agreeing.

They started walking back down the path, and I could hear Serge muttering to Jan, "All right, we're going to hit this mall and meet back here in half an hour. These trips never work out."

Once again, I cast carefully, and once again, the spell did not work. Angel and the others again met me after a half hour. "Well, shall we just keep walking?" she suggested.

I was extremely bored by this point. "Oh, yes, lets just keep walking forever. It sounds like such fun." However, our only choices were to continue on or head back to Brand's Amber. Without understanding why we had been brought here in the first place, it was difficult to know what to do next.

"Can you reach Lucretia?" Serge suddenly suggested. I agreed, and pushed them out of the shadow again.

I reached Lucretia, who reacted rather badly. "Who is it? What's happening to me? I'm going insane!"

"Relax." I quickly explained who I was, while she whimpered for me to get of her mind. "Where are you?"

"I have no clue." I encouraged her to provide me with details. "There were trees. Then an earthquake. I jumped a crevice and I kept traveling."

Some time triangulation proved that her earthquake did not happen at the same time as our tsunami. "Is there any way we could find you?" I asked.

"I could turn around," she began. "I don't think I could tell you how to get here, though."

It took more careful questioning to find out where she had begun her journey. She had gone through the forest outside of the castle and found her path there, and had been traveling since then. At that point, having determined her starting point, I closed off the connection as she again began raving about being insane.

I finished in the nick of time as the others returned once more. I outlined my discussion with Lucretia, and again we had a discussion on what to do next. It seemed reasonable to return to Brand's Amber, find the path, and use that to move far enough away from the Pattern so that Angel's abilities might work. Since our boat had been destroyed, we were reduced to knocking down the various trees I had killed and building a raft. It took some time, but eventually we managed it, tying it with vines and launching it into the water with four of us aboard.

Angel and Serge seemed to have more power than myself for rowing, and Jan the least of all. It took some careful work to keep the raft going in a single direction. But we managed, and began to row on what would be a several days' journey. The closer we moved towards the harbor, the more we seemed to be fighting against a current moving away, slowing down the journey even further. By the time we reach the harbor, I would have cheerfully climbed the walls, had our raft had any.

The harbor itself was abandoned, no boats in evidence other than our raft. We made our way back to the castle, intending to investigate it. Expectedly, the castle was abandoned. We started at the top and worked our way all the way to the Pattern. Also expectedly, the castle was as uninteresting as everything else I had seen in the last few days. The most interesting thing that happened in the castle was the arguements the others had, concerning the possibilities of everyone being in the family. That, at least, resulted in useful information, as Angel went through her deck of cards again, naming several of them and telling us some about them. It turned out that one of the ones Angel had never met, as he disappeared before she was born, had been possibly seen by Serge. A curious fact that at a time when some of her family were disappearing, others were returning after years of being gone.

Eventually, we began the long walk down the path that began in the forest, down which Lucretia had traveled. We again walked for a long time, and eventually, I'd had it. "I could separate myself by a shadow and try to take myself home." There was only a brief argument, and when I stood my ground, the others finally left me behind in an abandoned shadow, where I thought I could do little damage.

"If you find a way out, you'll let us know," Angel seemed positive I'd say yes, not even bothering to ask it as a question. I merely nodded,watching as they left.

I had been growing ever more careful as I cast, and this time was no exception. If my magic could help me escape from this nightmare, then I fully intended to do so. And when my spell was complete, I thought at first that I had succeeded. I was in my room in Devane, the same room where I had spent hours talking to Wynne when I first arrived, and practicing my magic for years after. I hurried to the window and looked out to find a barren landscape, and where the Tree would stand was only an overly large dead Tree.

My heart sank. Had my world been destroyed by this Brand? Then I strengthened my determination that this was not my world, nor was this my Crystal Tears. This was someplace else entirely, someplace created by this uncle of Angel's, and as everything else was sick and twisted, so was this version of my homeworld. This place was truly a shadow of the one where I was born, and a horribly pictured shadow at that. I was uncomfortable just being there, and I was also very much alone. There was no one else alive.

The one thing I never dared admit to myself was that perhaps it had something to do with myself. After all, my magic was based on the power of the Tree. And lately, my magic had been destroying living things in other outlands. I tried very hard not to consider that my magic might have drawn the very life out of the Tree of Life.

It appeared that while I was accomplishing nothing with the others, I was also unable to accomplish anything on my own. I constructed a spell, attempting to communicate with Trystan, but when that failed I had to assume that he had perhaps managed to take himself from this set out of outlands and into another, perhaps the one where Amber lies with Corwin as king. In a more morbid thought, perhaps he had died in the attempt. Whichever was truth, my attempts to contact him would be no more successful than those to contact Bleys or Corwin. My castings had made me weary, so I set up my wards and napped.

When I awoke, I tried a new spell, in my attempt to rejoin the others. I wished to contact Angel, and once the contact was established and I had a location, I would transport to her. In the end, I acheived the contact but the transport did not work. I was dismayed and annoyed, but at least the contact might be useful.

"Trystan's missing. I can't reach him," I explained.

"Of course not," she didn't seem at all surprised.

"I've tried several times to get out myself, and have gotten nowhere," I continued to explain. "Nor can I return to your location, since I cannot see where you are."

"I believe the only way out of here may be to walk that Pattern," Angel sounded disgruntled. I didn't like that idea much myself, after her decription of its rigors. "Or perhaps to follow the shadowpath as far as we can, since if what Mom told me is true, this should all connect in the Courts of Chaos, which is a really really strange place."

I had been thinking on how Angel had said the universe was constructed. "If Brand, as you said, constructed this Pattern and this set of outlands was created when he did so, then he must have been in Amber's outlands when he did so. And therefore, there must be a place, near the Pattern, where one could reach the proper set of outlands, correct?" She had agreed with me as I spoke, and she continued to do so. "So," I reached my point, "isn't walking away from it going in the wrong direction?"

"In theory, yeah, but I'm not sure how it works exactly, and if we could even get there." She sounded remarkably unsure of herself. "I mean, its not like people create Patterns every day."

Hmph. "I should think that would be a good thing, since it seems that once you arrive at one, you can't get back to where the other one is." I could feel the restlessness starting again, and I paced while I spoke.

As for Angel, she had no further ideas than my own. In fact, she proposed placing someone on Brand's Pattern to see if they could attempt it. As you may expect, I revolted at that idea. "If you place a person on that Pattern, knowing full well that they may die in the attempt, then you are as good as guilty of murder."

"It'd only be one," she returned mildly. "It's a lot lower than your count so far." A pause, stony silence, then "Well, sorry 'bout that."

"I don't think ahead of time of killing people, unless they deserve it," I said icily. Angel's attitude was beginning to get more than a little on my nerves. It was obvious she needed a lesson when time was available. "Perhaps I'll catch up with you."

"What do you plan to do?"

I paused then. "I'm not certain. I'm not sure why we're here, and none of us seem to be effective. All I seem to be effective at is clearing a castle of guards."

I could hear her smile. "And I seem to be effective at reminding you of it."

I didn't think it was funny. "I find it endearing of you, Angel."

"You'll remember me for a long time."

"As long as I have to." I doubt she heard the implied threat. I ended on that note.

As I closed the contact, I began immediately to prepare another spell to return me to the point on the path from where I had left the others, hoping that perhaps I could catch up with them if I continued on in that direction. I glanced up during my casting to see a strange sight.

On the horizon there was a blackness, and I could see everything seeming to fall into the well of darkness as it approached me. I cast faster and faster, drawing on everything around me to try and remove myself from that position before the blackness caught me.

I missed. I did not manage to get the spell off, although I felt some sort of transport surround me. The world was strange, swirling colors around me, everywhere shifting and changing. I kept my footing carefully, trying to understand what it was I was seeing, as it seemed like the world melted. And off on the horizon I could see two demons approaching, their body language menacing. I drew my sword and readied myself to meet them.

I felt a mental contact at the back of my mind, and with both eyes still carefully on the demons, I accepted to find Angel staring at me. "You said it wouldn't work." She held up the card with the questionable image. "It did. Did you get out?"

The demons were fast approaching. "Look, I don't really have a lot of time to talk here," I explained quickly. "There are two demons over there and their advancing on me."

"Well, there's three of them here, but there's more of us." I grasped her hand and stepped through, to find Lucretia, Angel and whole hoard of demons. Angel was rapidly shuffling through her deck of cards. She glanced up at the demons. "We're trying to leave."

"Stop," one of the demons ordered. "Surrender your Trumps."

"You just told me to leave," Angel protested.

"You failed. You've had more than enough time." The demon reached for the deck.

"Just one last card," she held the deck close to her, backing away from the demons.

"Instead of leaving, you brought someone else here. Hand them over!" An angry demon is not a pretty sight, and it was just one more strike against Angel that she had brought me into this argument. Where before I had been outside, under the wide sky with plenty of room to maneuver, I was now in a close hallway, hemmed in on one side by Lucretia and her motorcycle, and on the other by Angel herself. With an angry demon rapidly advancing on my companions. She surrendered the deck.

I glared at Angel. "What the hell have you brought me into?" We were escorted into a room off the side of the hallway and locked in. "How would you feel about being knocked out?"

"If you can get us out of here, sure," she agreed. "But I want my Trump back." I glared at her, and she backed down. "There are extra sets."

We were left in the makeshift cell long enough to argue the merits of leaving right away, versus contacting others, or waiting to get Angel's Trump back. In the end, she decided against any actions, including contacting Reginald, who had apparantly been on friendly terms with the demons.

After a while, two demons returned and handed Angel two cards, of the courtyard in Amber and Trystan. Brilliantly, this time she concentrated on the courtyard, and we left quickly, arriving in the middle of the courtyard and met by guards with crossbows.

"I told you so!" Angel argued. She had pointed out before that the reason her family might be blocking contacts could be due to problems in Amber, which is why she hadn't used the Trump to get to the courtyard before. In this case, she had been right, but it had still been a reasonable risk, in my opinion.

"Julian has closed this off. Come with me." The guards ushered us to the dungeon.

"Why are we being placed in the dungeon?" I inquired politely. "Where's Corwin?"

"Dead. You are charged with trespassing on Julian's grounds."

Corwin dead? "Since when?"

"Several days ago." We were locked in separate cells, to find that Serge and Jan were likewise in their own cells.

Since this time I'd arrived in the dungeon by a more normal route, the guards saw fit to confiscate my possession before leaving me. Lleuad was first, of course, then my pack. Thankfully, they didn't try to humiliate me completely by taking my clothes and dressing me in prison rags. However, they did take my crystal and they tried valiently to take my wrist bands. They could not find the catch any easier than I could, nor could they slide them off over my hands. The metal of the bands resisted their swords with ease. Later I was thankful that I still had the bands, but at the time I was merely angry over the possessions I had lost. I doubted I could ever find another sword like Lleuad (and I hoped it gave an earful to whoever had it). And the crystal, shed by the Tree on the night of my son's birth, was irreplaceable.

The guards returned and set Lucretia free, telling her that she could leave. Naturally, she did so immediately.

Julian arrived shortly and gave Angel her chance to leave, should she contact her mother and bring her to there. Likewise, he made the same offer concerning Martin to Serge and Jan. As neither of them had a way to contact these people, this was not going to happen soon. Nor did I believe the words of the man who had imprisoned us.

And after that, I was relaxing in my cell, when I heard guards approaching. Water splashed through the grate, soaking me. Outside I could see Gerard standing and laughing. Anger began to grow against him, and a desire for revenge was fervent.

I began to cast silently, carefully not moving any muscle, wanting to communicate with Corwin. I could not believe that he was dead, and knew that he would help us escape were he alive. I was as careful as I could possibly be, but the guards still noticed my magic and forced me to stop my casting.

Eventually, Reginald joined us in the dungeon, wearing haphazard clothing and claiming confusion as to our earlier adventures. So now everyone that Angel had found in the back of her deck of cards was now collected. It seemed obvious to me that only those in Angel's family were here, and we were expected to gather even more relatives for Julian. I certainly didn't intend to comply.

There was a sudden noise in the hallway, and by peering out I could see that the guards had fallen unconscious, after apparently being knocked into each other. I didn't wait to question providence, instead yelling for Serge as I saw him remove open his door, having removed the hinges. Serge let Angel out first, then together they let the rest of us out. Everyone rearmed themselves, while Jan hurriedly scratched something on the wall of his cell. "Somebody has let us out, placing us in debt to them. I don't appreciate being in debt to an unknown," I announced as people moved around me. I don't think they understood the importance of the concept, since no one paid me the least bit of attention.

"Let's go!" Jan called out.

"There is another way, you know," Angel called out. "The Pattern."

"He's already got something that's a little less dangerous." I turned to Jan. "Where are we going?" He stood before a picture scractched in the wall, and he was concentrating on it carefully, motioning us all foreward.

"What?" Angel moved up, curious.

"It's a Trump." Serge stepped foreward and disappeared. I followed quickly on his heels, and Angel must have agreed that it was a better way out, for she arrived a moment later. Reginald, then Jan, and we were all together in some sort of a pub. At least, that's what they told me it was. Things were very strange, with spots of light on the wall shedding more light down into the room. What little light there was. There was a strange sort of music, sounding much like when Serge played his "air guitar" and not at all like my harp. But there were people carrying glasses and mugs of amber colored liquid, and I was told that it was alcoholic. I enjoyed a beer.

"My stuff! I need my stuff!" Serge was creating a scene. "I'm going back!" I kept expecting him to stamp his foot like an angry child. But I had to agree with him. Lleaud I could possibly live without. The crystal I needed to retrieve. Another strike against Gerard, stealing my belongings. What threat am I to him? I would have stayed peacefully in Crystal Tears, had I not stumbled into Bachman and Balder's life. Had I my possessions, I would happily rerturn to Crystal Tears and perhaps even stay there a while. I was no threat to Gerard.

I tried to ignore the men surrounding myself and Angel, saying soft phrases to us. 'Twas obvious they wanted us for some sort of liason, and given time, I might enjoy such with a reputable man. But this was not the time and these were certainly not the men. Besides, I still needed to retrieve my items. "I'll go with you," I called to Serge.

"Do you wanna go back?" Jan asked. "I can put you back." He thought we were crazy. I could see it in his eyes.

"Well, guys, it's been fun," Angel waved, "but I'm going to find my mom. If I ever catch up to you again, I hope it isn't under similar circumstances."

"If you ever need to get hold of me." Jan handed Angel a small folded piece of paper. She pocketed it and left the bar. Then Jan began to draw. He gave us two pictures, one of the jail in Amber, one of another bar, and then he began one of Serge, and he claimed he'd do one of me after that. Just in case we had problems getting away.

And we went. We arrived in the hallway just outside our cells, and the unconscious guards were still there, all tied up. I grabbed myself a sword and lashed the belt and sheath around me, just in case we ran into trouble. The Tree knew, I expected it! I also took the moment to take another look at the guards. There had been no sign of magic when they all fell unconscious, and on careful inspection, it certainly looked as if someone had moved through the room, knocking each set unconscious by crashing them into each other.

"Perhaps a silence would be best," I suggested. Serge agreed, first casting a spell of his own, and then I cast, cautiously to avoid borrowing anything from Serge. He wandered off and explored, returning as I finished my spell. And he hadn't found our stuff. But he had located a pair of crossbows somewhere.

We moved up the stairs, Serge ahead since he was the larger of the two of us. He leaned against the door at the top of the stairs, then turned and glared at me. Ah. I backed down the stairs so that he could hear if there were anyone on the other side of the door. He motioned that there was someone on the other side of the door, and I headed back up to join him at the door. Just then, the door opened and Serge was jumped by a guard. I stepped to the side as the guard flew by me down the stairs. Serge waded in and grabbed guards, knocking heads together. I quickly disarmed a couple and knocked them out. Those who had time seemed impressed that neither of us were bleeding. Once done, we bound the guards and set them on the landing on the other side of the door. Shutting the door, we locked them in the dungeons. Then we turned to our new surroundings.

Serge walked away, then glared at me. A moment later, there was sound in the room again. He smiled at his efforts and turned away. As for the sound, there was a lot of it. I snagged another sword, since this didn't sound like it was going to be pleasant. Someone knocked rather heavily on one of the three doors in the room. "Yeah, whaddya want?" Serge growled.

"We need you. Come out!" a voice yelled back.

Serge didn't look happy. The door burst open, revealing the throne room in Amber, complete with Gerard on the throne and surrounded by guards. Pointing crossbows. At us.

I blocked the door, trying to keep the guards from getting to Serge so that he could use the picture magic to get us out of there. The moment Gerard saw me and stood, I reconsidered, but stood my ground. "Fire!"

The guards unleashed crossbow bolts, and as fast as I slammed the door, one still hit me right in the center of the forehead, bouncing off. I felt for the bruise I knew was forming. "Damn, that hurt!"

I looked back over at Serge, who had stopped staring at the picture and was now staring open-mouthed at me. "Stop staring! Get us out of here!"

We dove through the picture just as the door crashed down behind us. I didn't wait to see how Gerard felt about the fact that the shot hadn't hit me. I just got out.

We were in another bar, with strange whirling lights and odd machinery. "Can you sing for your supper?" I inquired politely.

"Sure." Serge waded through the crowd to the bar, me following in his wake. "Hey, Joe!"

The barkeep looked over, a glass in one hand, a bottle in the other. "Hey. We've already got someone tonight." He paused a moment. "Besides, you still owe us from last time."

"We don't want to be here, do we?" I commented softly. In my own world, skipping on a bar tab does not make you a welcome guest the second time. I doubted it would be different here.

We started to run for the door, pushing our way past some very large guards pointing metal pipes at us. I followed Serge, who just kept moving towards the door. "Don't let them point those at you," he cautioned.

"I'm supposed to stop them?" I glanced over at one guard, reasoning that in order to keep him from pointing his pipe at me, I might never make it to the door. I just kept going. We pushed right through the guards at the door, and as we tumbled out into the street, I heard a loud explosion behind me, and felt a solid pain in my back as if a large rock had bounced off of me. It was a momentary pain, and I knew I had another bruise to add to my collection. I wasn't pleased.

We went around the corner into an alleyway. "Any bright ideas of what to do now?"

"Wait for Jan." Serge started to lead the way down the street to another bar. I was fascinated by the world around me, but Serge wasn't about to answer any questions. He bundled up our swords so they were less obvious.

I looked at the bundle he handed back to me. "Well, I suppose I can always hit somebody with it."

We waited in the other bar for a while, Serge drinking and me watching the strange life around me. I felt the tickle of a mental contact and relaxed to allow the spell to happen. It was Jan, and I could see him still in the other bar. We had a brief conversation, then I turned to Serge, "You ready to go?" He didn't look ready, although he said he was, so I grabbed his shoulder and shoved him towards Jan. Then I held out my hand and stepped through myself.

Once I was back in the bar with Jan, I unwrapped the two swords and replaced them about my waist. The belts were certainly too long, but it would do for now. And then we had to explain what had happened since we left the others. Serge at least explained to me that the pipes were called guns, which shot metal pellets which could normally penetrate the skin. I was thankful that they hadn't.

Over to my side, I could see Jan talking to the air, a card in his hand. He glanced up. "Wanna go see Milo? Or Martin? Or whatever he's called?" We all piped up, wanting to go along. "Do you mind if I start piling people through?"

Eventually we started going through. Martin looked quite differently than the last time I had seen him. Before, in the throne room with Corwin, he had been dressed in strange leathers with a most unusual haircut. Now he was wearing a more normal mail and looked ready for battle. Behind him troops gathered and practiced. "I am going to attack Amber," he announced.

"Could you possibly tell us what has happened?" I politely asked. The revolution between Amberites was obvious. I wanted to know the reason. "We've all be away for a while."

He looked at me sharply. "Exactly. And where were you?"

Serge, Jan and I explained our recent exploits, while Reginald watched interestedly. The end result was that he wasn't sure where our things might be kept in Amber. Other than that, "Is it true that Corwin's dead?"

It was an important question to me, for reasons I'm sure you understand. Martin's answer was simple. "Yes."

I was silent, avoiding my part in the question and answer session. Now I'd heard from those who had taken his place, and from another source, that Corwin was dead. If Corwin were Jordan, and from Angel's deck it seemed as if he were, then I owed somebody for his death. Jordan left me once, and I felt suddenly as if he had left me a second time. And this time I had nothing to show for it, nothing to look forward to.

Why did it seem as if every member of the family I liked either disappeared or died? A girl could easily begin to get a complex! Again I resolved to find my way home and spend some time at the Tree.

Martin explained what had happened. "You guys disappeared. Soon after that, Trystan disappeared. Not long after that, Corwin died."

"How?"

He shrugged. "Don't know. His body just showed up in Amber."

"Sword? Was he bleeding? Or was he just dead?" I prodded.

"Just dead." He took a deep breath. "Immediately after that, which is suspicious, Gerard let Julian out of the dungeon and the two of them took over Amber. As far as I can tell, Flora fled at that point. And Llewella is leading the resistance. Rebma is at war with Amber."

"Do you suspect that Gerard killed Corwin?" I was looking for confirmation. Every statement was a nail in Gerard's coffin, in my mind. I had seen his strength, though, and it would take quite the plan to remove him. But for what he had done, I would do it. I just needed some proof. I will not convict someone on circumstantial evidence.

"They weren't getting along," Martin admitted. "Corwin was causing problems with the axe."

"What was this axe?" I was getting frustrated, having heard bits and pieces of the story, and was more than a little confused. After all, I'd arrived in Amber on the heels of Bleys's disappearance, which seemed, until now, totally unrelated.

Martin looked over at me. "Let's try something else. Who the hell are you?" I explained, reminding him curtly that we'd met once before in the throne room. "Oh yeah. Maybe you're what pushed him over the edge. He wasn't exactly himself at the end."

He wasn't? A strange feeling went through me then. Had he possibly remembered something, and remembered meeting me once before in Crystal Tears? Had he remembered who Jordan was? It was sobering, for it was obvious that however he had changed, Martin had no longer respected him afterwards.

"I think he was trying to build another Jewel out of the axe," Martin concluded. Which made even less sense than everything else to me. And Martin's only response to my complaint was, "I don't care if you understand or not. I'm marching on Amber."

I started thinking about what to do next, and how muich I wanted to go to Crystal Tears. I couldn't leave from my current location without endangering these others. I glanced up when Angel arrived. Martin began to quiz her on the details of our adventures, and there was one more telling of our story. When Angel reached the part of the 68 guards I had inadvertantly killed, Martin ordered his troops to retreat from my vicinity. I reassured him I would not cast while here, but he didn't look happy.

"Didn't you even try to find Brand? Weren't you at least curious?" Martin pestered Angel.

She looked down her nose at him. "The problem with looking for something is, sometimes you find it. And what would I do with Brand? I'd draw my sword and he'd kill me."

Either Angel had no faith in her own ability, or this Brand was more powerful than she claimed.

"Very possibly true," Martin agreed.

"We haven't found out what happened to Trystan yet," I reminded the other.

"I rather hope he was trapped there," Martin informed me, somewhat acidly.

I was curious. Trystan hadn't seemed the sort to inspire such venom. "Why?"

"I don't like him."

I should think that part was obvious by Martin's very stance and tone. He wasn't about to explain more than that, though. And I'd had enough of the company of these Amberites. Whether Angel and Martin were right or not about my being part of their family, I had had more than enough of this family gathering. "Could anyone possibly find me a deserted outland that is unpopulated?"

"Why do you need an outland that's not populated?" Martin paused, then said angrily. "Shadow. Why do you need an unpopulated shadow?"

Everyone was more than willing enough to explain why. "I don't drain life intentionally when I cast!" I yelled over everyone's explanation.

"Would you care to get rid of her?" he turned to Angel. I was not pleased to be being discussed like a moldy fruit that needed to be disposed of. But if it got me away from here, I'd be happy then. A few more minutes of this friendly discussion and I was about to begin casting and damn the consequences.

"Not really."

"Just take her one shadow away." Martin was ignoring me, as was Angel. I was fuming.

"She's got morals. One shadow won't do it. Its got to be empty."

I bit my tongue to keep from lashing out. I started to count down from ten. If I hit zero, I'd lose control completely. They'd dispose of rotten fruit more politely than they were speaking of myself. "Anywhere that has no people will be fine," I growled.

Angel finally agreed, and took me with her on her quest to find her mother. We walked for a ways, the world shifting around us thanks to Angel's magic which allowed us to move from outland to outland. Eventually we found a deserted one, where I'd be comfortable working my own magic.

I waved her off and waited until I could no longer see her before I began my casting. I cast carefully, defining the image in my mind until I could almost see the Tree in front of me. And then I was there.

After almost a year, I was home.

Chapter Ten, Life and Death

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