After another few days, Hannah meets with Sebastian and Chew to receive a data card with Gerard's medical report. The imaging confirms everything they've speculated: Gerard's legs are smashed beyond obvious repair. And they do seem to be regrowing somewhat in places. Just not right. It's as if the bits and pieces of a smashed teacup were trying to regrow back together, but there were no mold for them to make the right shape.
Chew and Sebastian put it politely, but they still don't know why Gerard isn't dead yet.
They do have two formulations for painkiller. One is a very pure general (whole-body) anesthetic. They're very sure it will work; it's been tested. The other is a targeted anesthetic, tailored to Gerard based on the samples they took from him. Because it's tailored, it's not tested, of course.
What questions does she have and which of the two formulae does she want to try on Gerard?
If Gerard agrees, she'd like to try the general anesthetic first, to see how close they came to the correct dosing, and for the two of them to adjust that as needed, over the course of a couple more days. She'd also like to 'trial run' his dropping the morphine during this time, for the purposes of seeing how well the other meds work, as well as finding out how quickly and severely withdrawl symptoms start.
She wants to know what they would do about fixing his sacral spine, if they had their druthers.
Remove it surgically and replace it with a cloned duplicate. There's only a 30% rejection/failure rate with clones in experimental trials and your uncle seems very strong.
She pretends she'll think about this.
She'd also like an opinion on how much more damage going in and removing all the 'unfused' or floating bone at this point would do. And perhaps 'smoothing' the fused bone so at least it doesn't cause any more pain or damage to the skin structure.
If they can do it with targeted sonics, they might be able to get the floating bone to reabsorb. That makes no sense, but if he's regrowing things, it might work.
Hannah presents that one to Gerard for his call. The pain this is causing may not be material - it's hard to tell with that kind of injury.
Do they have anything drug-wise that might help kidney function, at least in the short term?
Yes. That's the easiest request.
Excellent. That's only going to help with whatever his body is doing. She gets some of that.
Past all that, she still wants to test the targeted meds, but since that will leave more pain overall and only target the centers, she needs to know about his morphine withdrawl response first.
[Any more questions, or shall we take it back to Gerard? And do you want that as a thread or a summary to move on more quickly?]
[Let's keep going in summary for now.]
So Hannah's questions/expectations for/of Gerard are:
1 - let's test out what morphine withdrawl is going to be like with the general. (ie: how bad is the physical withdrawl in a 24-48 hour period, and how impacted is Gerard's mood? Is it anger or depression or resignation or does he get wiley on me - or yes? Does he try shifting in the worst of it - because that's what she's worried about. How do you control someone who can change reality? That's why she thinks it really has to happen in Xanadu.)
He agrees to this.
2 - let's test out how well the targeted drug works and adjust doses.
He agrees to this too.
3 - Does he agree with me that the only 30% reject rate on the cloning option seems like a bad idea? It seems, for Pattern-walking purposes, even a 0% reject rate would still leave some worries. Plus, what if our bodies are just better at rejecting - of course they probably are. That would just make things worse.
If there's a 30 percent rejection rate, and his body rejects the implant, he'll have worse problems than walking the Pattern, thank you. Cloning might work, but that's something he'd want the experience of a bioengineer with significant experience in high-tech shadows to consult with before proceeding. He's not convinced such an expert exists.
4 - Does he want to stay around and disintigrate floating bone with sonic rays, or whatever they're talking about?
He thinks that they should try it on a limited basis while they're trying the targeted pain medications.
[And this question for the GM's: The bones in his legs that have fused back together - do they have a marrow core? Is it living bone, or stagnant bone?]
[Stagnant right now, but there's not a structure for a core to be in the middle of.]
With that agreement, Hannah starts immediately with option 1. She prepares for the withdrawl by bringing in more comfort foods. She'll fully participate in trying to get him through the withdrawl, helping in any way she can think of (massage, distraction via games or reading or whathaveyou, and generally keeping a good attitude if he gets very difficult.) If she thinks she can actually go ahead and take him all the way off, she will, but she levels down conservatively.
[We'll discuss this again after the conversation with the doctors.]
She also discusses the sonic rays more with the docs. She wants to understand how this works and why it isn't a horrible idea to do this and put more pressure on his kidneys.
"Why wouldn't it be a better option to actually pick an area, cut him open and clean out the area, and treat against infection? I'm sure that sounds barbaric, but to me it seems like it'd be easier on his kidneys, in his case," Hannah points out to them.
The level of detail they'd have to work at to get the floating bone through incisions would stress his system overall in ways they believe would be significantly more damaging to him than the risk to his kidneys. Just for one example, they'd have to put him under general anesthesia to do it, and that would stress him significantly both physically and psychologically.
They also provide further documentation on the sonics procedure. This seems to be a standard procedure given the local medical technology.
Hannah reads it, and has Gerard read it too. She's for it, if he wants to commit to staying longer. With being able to increase kidney function, it'd probably just be the same strain it has been, to deal with cleaning these additional materials out of his bloodstream.
Gerard thinks this is a good option, and solicits Hannah's opinion on whether to do it before or after the attempt to wean him off morphine.
She thinks after. #1, it's going to put more strain on the kidneys. #2, we've put off the med switch long enough. We should probably get this over with.
Or, they can hold the idea for later, but if doing it is likely to reduce pain in the long term, she's for doing it now, rather than waiting.
She doesn't tell the doctors no on the spine cloning idea, but she puts them off.
They're disappointed, but not terribly surprised.
[Card: Spring reversed. Very bad.]
Gerard becomes very irritable almost immediately as the drugs start to filter out of his system. He's restless, complains of hot and cold flashes, and nausea. Hannah realizes he's experiencing increases in body temperature, blood pressure, respiratory rate, and heart rate.
He's the strongest man alive and Hannah thinks if she levels him down much, she's going to have him hurting himself and others.
Hannah takes this very conservatively then. He goal becomes just to back him off the tiniest amount - 2.5mg from a 25mg/ml injectable. If his symptoms don't improve with that, she'll take it down to 1mg - and if he's still having the physical symptoms, we'll discuss waiting for Xanadu.
[Card: Law. Not so bad. It can't reverse the previous draw, but it's a better result for the new plan.]
The physical problems are reduced at the lower level of backing him off the morphine. (2.5 mg/25 mg) but Gerard is still irritable and temperamental and tends to break things, unintentionally. Maybe unintentionally, anyway.
During this process, Hannah still insists they go out to eat, go shopping, go on with life. Just sitting around the rooms would be the worst thing to do right now. Even if he breaks things they don't own, well, they're rich!
Hannah expects him to break things, so this is good! How long does it take before he stops breaking things? How many days until he has a day he'd describe as 'normal'.
Irritable is the new normal. So is breaking things. Not that breaking things wasn't the old normal. Gerard has always been hard on the china and crystal.
It may be time to consider outside help.
"Gerard, we need to go back to Xanadu for this," she says bluntly. "The withdrawl won't likely be any easier there, but Folly's there, and what you're going to need to get past all this is to be surrounded by supportive family that cares. We'll get someone to call Solange back, and we'll try to go 10% at a time. What do you say?" Hannah asks.
Gerard glares at her. "Here, Xanadu, Amber. It makes no difference to me where we do this." He shifts in the wheelchair. "There's no cure for me anyplace. Might as well be there."
He picks up the glass he was drinking from. His grip is too tight and it shatters in his hand. "Dammit."
"This has nothing to do with the cure, grumpy bear. Are you cut?" she asks gently, and reaches for his hand.
There's a bit of blood and when Hannah takes Gerard's hand and pries his it open--which takes a bit of effort--she can see that there are glass splinters.
If Gerard really didn't want to open his hand, Hannah would have been unable to open it, she thinks.
Hannah looks in Gerard's eyes. "I'm glad you trust me. Let me grab my bag."
She goes and gets her medical kit, somewhat changed by what she's learned in this shadow. She pulls out the most basic of tools though - fine tweezers. She takes his hand back and works on what she can see first.
"You know what I think would help? Clay. I think you should start sculpting. Would you try it?" she asks.
Gerard's eyes narrow. "What d'ye think it'd do for me?"
Hannah is able to clear the large splinters with ease. The smaller ones will be trickier.
Hannah pulls out a magnifying glass to make sure she doesn't poke any of the smaller pieces in further.
"Well, a number of things. First, it'd let you get properly dirty. It'd give you something to focus on. You can take a lot of frustration out on hard clay, and it doesn't care. It would give you a means of expression limited only by your talent. And I do think it might help you refine your grip," she glances up at him. "Breaking things on purpose is... understandable. Breaking things by accident is going to end up with you getting hurt. I don't like it."
Hannah focuses down on getting the rest of this tiny slivers out of his hand.
"Not my fault all these damn Shadows make things too fragile," Gerard mutters testily. "D'ye want me to do that--ow!--here or in Xanadu?"
"Sorry," she says. "Xanadu. It wouldn't even be clay here. It'd be some horrible 'synthetic' thing. Who should we call, to take us all back?"
"This isn't even glass. Random's like to be there. Otherwise I don't know." He's still grumbling.
"Well, when we get all this non-glass out of your hand, how about you loan me your trump to call him? You must be right, glass wouldn't have splintered this much," she sighs, carefully looking for all the little pieces.
"If you insist." Gerard looks away. He's clearly still irritated.
"Gerard, if you have a better plan, or just something you'd like better, please tell me. Otherwise, I just don't see any point in lingering any longer." Hannah finishes cleaning him up and wraps his hand.
Gerard and she wrestle verbally about it a bit, but in the end, he agrees to go, on condition they send someone to bring the ship back home. It's needed, he explains. Otherwise he'll have to steer them home himself.
Hannah gathers everyone and all their new luggage together and gets Random's trump from Gerard.
He gives it to her.
She kisses Gerard on the cheek and smiles at him. It's not patronizing, but it is grateful.
She focuses on Random's trump like Paige taught her to do. She still can't help but smile at this magic. She wills him to look at her.
The card is cold to the touch and Random is smiling back as always. After a moment, he turns to her. "Who calls?", he says. Behind him a shooting star streaks towards the ground.
"It's Hannah," she says, and grins because she still can't help herself. "We were hoping for a ride back?" She looks at the stars. "Are you in Xanadu?"
"I am in Xanadu, or in Xanadu but outside Xanadu proper. Close enough, anyway." He holds his hand out, smiling. "Come to me."
Hannah smiles back at him, and hands people and luggage through, herself being last.
After snagging some meat and cheese from the tray, Garrett leaves Folly's rooms and strides off toward Paige's quarters at a quick pace, chomping on his snack as he goes. He looks for Mace, the guard that's usually with the children, in the hallway, but if he doesn't see him, Garrett knocks on the door. In Paige's absence, the guard might have moved his post inside.
Mace is not at the door.
When Garrett knocks, it's Thorn who answers. He gestures Garrett in. The twins are draped over chairs like wild animals on branches, playing with carved wooden animals that look like they belong to children much younger than they are.
Sitting with them, under the watchful eyes of Mace and Thorn, is Vialle. "Hello, Garrett," she says pleasantly. "Please join us."
"Good day, Your Majesty," Garrett answers pleasantly, then greets the children. "Hey, Brooke. Leif. What're you doing?" He approaches them casually, much as he had on their journey aboard ship to Xanadu. Though he appears relaxed, he looks for any sign of distress or odd behavior. Odd for the twins, that is.
They're lethargic, but that might be because it's toward their bedtime.
"Hunting," Brooke explains. Watching them for a bit, Garrett can tell that they are playing some kind of hunting game, in which bigger predators eat smaller ones.
Vialle is also attending to their play as best she can with sightless eyes.
Deciding that it might be beneficial to analyze them at their level, Garrett kneels on the floor and observes the game with interest. After all, it was not so long ago that he was playing similar games with his sisters and his friends. "Catch anything yet?" he asks Brooke quietly, so as not to scare the prey.
Brooke lifts a finger to her lips and pulls back from the fray, leaving Leif to play with the toys.
She murmurs to Garrett, "We let the men get away."
Garrett leans over next to Brooke so they can speak quietly. Without taking his eyes off Leif, he whispers, "Which men?"
"The ones we were going to eat," Brooke explains.
A large animal leaps on a smaller one, with Leif's assistance. There is growling and rending, mimed and voiced by Garrett's young cousin.
Vialle coughs once. It's a nervous sound.
Garrett glances up at the queen. "They're just playing, Your Majesty. It's all right," he reassures her, though he hasn't quite decided himself if that's the case.
"Thank you, Garrett," Vialle murmurs. Brooke looks up at her, then back at Garrett.
He turns back to Brooke and, drawing on his experience as a big brother, continues his questions as if their game were real. "Who are these men? Do you know? And where are they? Xanadu? Amber?" he asks in a friendly, but soft, voice. What he's trying to determine is whether the children are being subtly controlled or whether this type of game really is a common pastime for half-feral children.
"They were in the forest. I don't know who they were. But we let them get away," Brooke replies.
[Does Garrett have any way besides talking to them to determine if they're controlled?]
[Nope. Just observation, what he knows about children in general, and comparing them to what they were like on the ship. Not much to go on.]
[OOC: Does he remember seeing them play like this aboard ship with Paige?]
[OOC: They played hunting and stalking games, but not with these toys. Garrett doesn't immediately recognize them.]
"Ah. Well, I'm sure something else will come along that you can eat. A nice fat deer or something," he says as he prepares to rise. "I saw your mother a little bit ago. She asked me to check in to see how you two were doing. Is there anything you'd like me to tell her?"
Leif looks up from his game and says, "Tell her to come home."
Brooke nods, her expression echoing her twin's.
Garrett glances back and forth between the two of them and nods once. "I'll do that," he assures them as he stands. He turns then to the guard. "Mace. A word outside, if you please. Thorn, if you would stay with the Queen for a moment," he says with whatever authority an eighteen-year-old prince-in-training can muster. He pardons himself to the queen and escorts the children's bodyguard to the door.
Thorn nods by way of acknowledgement and moves to guard Vialle, whose blind face shows too much concern that she probably would like to mask. Mace moves to follow Garrett.
Once in the hallway, Garrett closes the door behind them and turns to face the bodyguard. "Mace, you know Leif and Brooke pretty well. Have you noticed any... differences in their behavior today? Anything unusual?" Garrett asks softly.
Mace shakes his head. "Paige's children are strange every day." Remembering who Garrett is, he adds, belatedly, "Your Highness."
Garrett snorts affably. "You have me there, Mace. What I mean is have they been stranger than normal." He lowers his voice again, becoming more serious. "The reason I ask is we've had indications that we might be seeing a resurgence of the Deep Green. Lady Paige is concerned. That's why I'm here."
Mace shakes his head. "I wouldn't know what to look for, really, but they seem the same to me. Couth's the one who watches for that."
Garrett nods. "All right. Well, keep an eye open for anything unusual," Garrett warns him. "I think it would be a good idea to keep another guard with you until Lady Paige returns. Just in case. And I should probably escort the queen back to her rooms."
An afterthought occurs to Garrett. "Was she down here for anything in particular, or just to play with the bairn?"
"She came to look in on the children while Paige was away," Mace explains. "I'll make sure we're not alone with them--Your Highness." He's faster with that this time.
"Good man," Garrett says, though it's not clear whether he means for following instructions or remembering his title. He returns to the room and addresses the queen. "Your Majesty, I'll be leaving now. Would you like me to escort you to your rooms or someplace else on my way?"
Vialle tracks Garrett by the sound of his voice. "Do you know where your father is, Garrett?"
"Speaking with Prince Julian about something, the last I knew," Garrett replies. "Is there something you need him for, Your Majesty? Can I help you?"
Vialle smiles wryly. "Random's been talking to Julian. I suspect it's more that he needs me just now." She rises and extends her hand, as if to take Garrett's arm. "Let's find him."
Garrett valiantly Does Not roll his eyes at the Queen's assessment of need. Even if she couldn't see him, the guards could and it would not be proper to show such disrespect. "Yes, Your Majesty," Garrett utters his standard answer for difficult situations and places his arm under her outstretched hand. He says goodbye to the twins and shoots a reminder glance at Mace on the way out.
Once in the hallway, Garrett says, "My guess would be either your quarters or the studio. Which would you prefer to try first?"
"The studio, please," Vialle replies. She already has an idea of the right direction.
Garrett allows the queen to lead the way toward the studio, at least as much as she feels capable. "Did you enjoy your visit with the children, Majesty?" he asks, making polite smalltalk.
"I did. They're very strange, but they're fascinating to listen to. They tell the most interesting stories with their toys," Vialle says. "It disturbs me how much their voices have changed since--since their father died."
Garrett nods, then remembers that that will get him nowhere. "I'll bet," he concurs. "I didn't really know them when they were... young. But I agree it is strange to watch them. Mentally, they seem of an age with my youngest sister, but physically, they're almost grown. Did their stories bother you, Majesty?"
"I do not care for stories of blood and death," Vialle confesses. "Remind me how old your youngest sister is, please?"
It strikes Garrett suddenly how much time has passed since he last saw his sisters. "Whoa. She must be almost nine by now," he replies, amazed that that could be so.
Then he adds reassuringly, "I'm sorry their stories upset you, Majesty, but truly, they weren't much worse than some my mates and I played as lads. We spun some bloody yarns, I'll tell you, but most of ours featured swords instead of claws."
Garrett cocks his head curiously. "Have you ever spent much time around young children, Your Majesty?" he asks, not unkindly.
"Around young girls in Rebma, yes. But that was different." Vialle smiles.
"Yes, girls are definitely different," Garrett chuckles in agreement.
They pass by a window, and outside, Garrett can see his father and Folly standing together. Her hand is on his heart.
Garrett's eyes widen in surprise, but he ensures that his expression does not transmit beyond his face. Still, he does not pause near that particular window.
Vialle continues speaking, "Your sisters are old enough to join us at court. I should like to make them ladies-in-waiting, if you think it would not be unwise."
Garrett rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Faith would be thrilled, and she would probably do a good job. She's older. Twelve, I think. Maggie... enh," he hedges. "She's mischievous and likely to get into trouble. Not unlike her brother at that age," he chuckles. Vialle can easily hear the affection in his voice.
"So she's probably a bit young yet to be serious about it," Garrett continues. "I have to say, though, that it would be my mother I'd be more worried about. I suspect she'd be harder to convince, and quite vocal in her opposition." Vialle can hear his embarrassed grimace, even though she can't see it. "I wouldn't wish to put you in the middle of another of her tirades, Majesty."
"In this matter she would be dealing with me directly," Vialle explains. "Ladies-in-waiting fall under my supervision, especially ones of such a young age. I would supervise their education in the ways of Amber and Xanadu, and help them in due time to meet young men of rank who might suitably marry sisters to a Prince. And help to keep fortune-hunters away from them. They are, after all, desirable catches as Amber men account women. They will need protection. Surely your mother will see that I'm in a position to provide it."
"On some level, perhaps," Garrett responds diplomatically. "But with her, it'll be like the difference between hearing and listening. Y'see, Majesty, in her mind, she's opposed the King for so long that it's hard for her to see that we're all on the same side now. She's a proud, determined woman who for years kept a secret that would've torn her family apart if it were revealed. Her children are all she has. And as much as you and I know that this is what's necessary, it'll be tough for her to admit that she can't protect them alone anymore." Vialle can hear the sympathy and understanding in the young prince's voice for his mother's plight.
Garrett sighs, and from a shift in his posture, the queen can tell he's pondering the issue. "The trick will be to get her on board somehow," he muses, then chuckles. "I haven't figured that one out yet. Explaining it all to Da...onovan would probably help. He'll understand what we're talking about and see the dangers his daughters face. If we can all convince Mum that the girls are in more danger from outsiders than they are from the Royals themselves, we'll be on our way to getting her cooperation. I know we could just order her to cooperate, but it would be easier for everyone if we didn't have to."
Vialle listens as they walk along, and considers Garrett's words. After a few moments, she says, "May I be blunt with you, Garrett?"
"Of course," Garrett says with a slight grimace. That phrase usually means he has once again failed to be royal enough. He braces for the criticism.
"If it's men of the sort your mother believes your father to be that are a concern, your mother already knows she can't protect your sisters. No protection is perfect, but I can offer your sisters things that your mother simply cannot. I'll want your stepfather's help in convincing her, but ultimately this must be between me and her."
She adds gently, "I think she and I can come to an agreement."
"You're an optimist then, Majesty," Garrett says with a rueful chuckle. "But I hope you can do it. I'd like to see her come around." He pats her arm encouragingly. "I'll do whatever I can to help. Just ask," he offers.
As they approach the studio, Garrett looks, or rather listens, for signs that his father and Folly have arrived.
They do not seem to have, but Soren welcomes Vialle and Garrett and says he figures Sy--Random and Folly will be there soon.
Garrett greets Soren, pulls up a normal chair for the queen and makes himself comfortable in one of the beanbags, making polite conversation until his father can meet them.
Folly hastily assembles a plate of sandwiches and snacks, and heads off in the direction where the king was last seen, letting her intuition be her guide.
He is exactly where Folly expects him to be. By the waterfall, sitting on a rock. Just as she arrives he says "Julian is unhappy."
"Understandably." She picks her way carefully over to the rock and perches beside him. "We've had news from Paige: she'd already had a run-in with Jovian by the time we reached her. He punched her in the jaw, from the look of it, and then ran off in the direction of Arcadia." She shakes her head sadly. "Martin said his dragon was killed?"
"Paige can have a room next to Cambina, who he hit first. I note he hasn't punched Brita or Lilly. Or Robin for that matter. So either it's not really a habit or he's not completely insane." Random tosses something in the air, and catches a cigarette. It might not have been tobacco when he threw it. "Yeah, I saw it. Shot down by a cannon, in Gerard's home shadow. Where they didn't used to have gunpowder. Julian says he'll get over being insane in a few years. Decades at most." Random reaches for a sandwich.
Folly holds the plate out to him, and then takes a sandwich for herself. "He, um. He knows that from personal experience, or from seeing it happen to other people?" She looks a bit grim.
"And the gunpowder -- did that come from this Huon person? Why's he off rampaging in Gerard's home shadow? Oh -- and remind me to tell you about the griffon." She takes a bite of her sandwich.
Random opens his sandwich, pulls off the pickles, and takes a bite. "So, you know how I just sorta disappeared from Amber, showed up in Texorami, and didn't really go home until I got out of jail? The first jail, anyway. Well we all used to do that. Flora lived where Corwin was for centuries. It was a long time before anyone thought it was weird, and then it was because she hadn't moved on to someplace newer. There are times I think my brothers and sisters decided to reveal all their kids so that they would keep me busy for a few decades. I've never spent this much time around family since I didn't have to."
Random throws a pickle slice into the air, like a tiny, wavy frisbee. It sails a remarkable distance and gets lost in the waterfall. "What I'm saying is, Julian didn't say, but he could've spent every Starday stark raving mad for a hundred years before we noticed. Oh, and we're also pretty self-centered, too."
Folly nods thoughtfully, but doesn't say anything around her mouthful of sandwich.
"The gunpowder is either the invention of distant geniuses, something that spilled over from a nearby shadow, or an import from a relative. I think your guess is right, mostly because Meg and company report that Huon marched away with guns and drums and drums and guns, hurrah, hurrah.
"Dunno what he wants there. Maybe some magic of Rilga's or something? Something to help him out. He wants a pattern sword, maybe he knows something Weyland wants."
Random blinks. "I'm not having one made. I don't have any sons to spare to give it to."
Folly's bare toes curl and uncurl against the rock as she ponders that. She looks like she wants to ask a dozen things at once. After a couple more bites of sandwich, she settles on one: "Who's Meg?"
Random mostly finishes the bite he's eating. "'nother niece. I think she's Huon's."
Folly cocks an eyebrow. "Does *she* think she's Huon's?" She finishes her sandwich, takes another and sets it in her lap. She pulls all the pickles off the remaining sandwich and offers it wordlessly to Random.
"Well, she doesn't like him, which is always a leading indicator. But no, she has no idea. I get the feeling she's planning on running a little personal mystery novel. 'Which one of you bitches is my father?' sort of thing."
"Hey, I've done that!" Folly says brightly. "'Cept I asked my mother, and it didn't work."
Random's eyebrows go up and he runs his hand through his hair. "I don't think your mother is Meg's father. That wasn't the kind of place I was looking for when I found Texorami. Sailors and decadent musicians, but there are lines."
Folly snorts.
She picks up her second sandwich, but doesn't take a bite. "Okay. We might come back to some of that stuff in a minute, but I need to tell you the rest of what Paige said, before I forget. First, she and Couth encountered some soldiers -- I think she called them 'hoplites' -- that she says had some tie to Arcadia. Three or four of them, plus another one that was dead. That's where the griffon comes in. She says they found a griffon in the Grove with a dead hoplite and Hannah's picnic blanket -- which doesn't make any sense to me, I just spoke to Hannah this afternoon and she was nowhere near the Grove. Which reminds me, I need to call Gerard back and let him know you're home safe. But anyway, Paige said she would need to go back and burn the dead soldier to 'cleanse the taint of Deep Green'. She and Martin were headed back that way."
She pauses and looks at Random. "Do you think the Arcadian dragon-thing could reach into Xanadu the way it did in Amber?"
"Nope." He grins. "Xanadu has three things going for it that Amber didn't. One, a pattern. Two, me, and 'C' the Jewel. Oh, and my impeccable fashion sense. It's too unordered to come here. It needs yon vasty wood 'twixt itself and me. Or was that yon greenwood? I can never remember the difference. The 'Forest Medieval' in any case, chock full of people but still pretty damn vast. Anyway, nope." He frowns. "None of that should be near the grove, either. That I may have to look into."
"Mm, yeah," Folly says around a bite of sandwich, "I was wondering about that last bit." She swallows and adds, "I have Martin's and Paige's trumps, if you need them...." She studies Random's profile in the fading light.
Random's hand flicks outward, fingers spread. No. "I'm trumped out for now. Julian is draining. Some days this job is not all rainbows and small fluffy animals."
Her arm slides around his shoulders. "Hey, I'm headed up to the studio after this. You should come, too."
He slouches into her arm for a second.
She glances at the castle, but makes no move to get up. The remains of her sandwich sit forgotten beside her on the rock. "Or we could hang here for a while...?" Her right thumb twitches up and down, sketching an old on-stage signal: _it's up to you, either way -- whatever you need_.
Random heaves himself up. "I wish. For a guy who plans to live forever, I never have any spare time." He smiles, ruefully. "Who's in the studio? Soren got anything working down there yet?"
"Dunno," Folly replies, and gets up herself. She tosses the last of her sandwich toward the water and picks up the empty plate. "Soren and Ash were there earlier. And Garrett's s'posed to meet me there when he's done checking in on Paige's kids."
She looks up at him with a little half-smile. "If you can get away from your other duties for a few minutes to come play, we can count it toward the I-need-to-study-you-for-a-trump sessions. It's kind of an experiment -- some stuff Dworkin talked about. I wanna see if I can hear it. Hear if I can hear it. You know."
Random turns towards the castle. "So Dworkin gave you homework and it's 'Study me'? Well, my life is an open book, but most people wouldn't be caught dead reading it, so that's alright."
Folly grins. "Whereas I'd read it for pleasure, in my spare time. How convenient that I have an excuse now."
Random does not grin back. He leans toward her slightly. "It's written in braille. How are you at feeling the bumps?"
Folly clasps her hands in front of her mouth with her fingers laced into such a twisted contortion that her knuckles whiten. "Well, usually I'm better at feeling the beats. Which is why we're trying this the musical way first."
"Only the beats? Righto, we'll save syncopation for the extra credit assignments.
"C'mon. We need to see about hearing about hearing before you start sounding less comprehensible than Daniels."
Folly puts her hands on her hips, mock-indignant. "Soren and I are both completely comprehensible. It's the rest of you lot that are always on about griffons in the forest, and unicorns bringing you magic rocks, and old men teaching you art in the middle of an impossible desert where time runs funny." Her eyes are twinkling. "Or, wait, maybe that was me."
He pauses. "I think you've spent more time with Dworkin that I ever did. Except for the thing in the Jewel of course, and that wasn't the same."
Folly lifts her eyebrows and points at his head, as if indicating 'Exhibit A'. "'Thing in the Jewel'?" she asks.
"Yeah, didn't I tell you? That's his pattern in there. I didn't figure that out all the way until I made my own."
"So, the one that--- um, that you sent Fiona to check, before you drew yours -- how does the pattern in the Jewel relate to that one?"
"Like a fresnel to a follow-spot on stage."
[A fresnel is (in this case) a theater light that casts a focused, direct beam. Many fresnels have a slot to insert a sheet of colored film (a gel) to give the light a particular color.]
"Huh." Folly thinks about that for a while. "So if that's his Pattern in the Jewel, who made the follow-spot one?"
She closes her eyes, as if to get a better look at the mental image, laying a hand on Random's arm to steady herself as she does so. "And does the analogy hold so far as to mean that too many other patterns would blot out the effect of the fresnel?"
When her eyes open, he's smiling a lopsided sort of grin.
"Mostly it holds my idea of a light source and a spot of light from it, with shadows cast by the beam of light. So, maybe if there was another fresnel, there wouldn't be shadows because you had indirect lighting, but I can't really imagine that. That's a question for Dworkin, who may tell you your question is trivial or meaningless, may give you an answer you can't understand, or may tell you something that scares you silly.
"And from a girl whose ancestors include a Unicorn, getting about the noise floor on silly would be impressive. I mean, really. I have a practically new ridiculometer and I can't even bring it within half a league of Jerod without it pegging, not to mention any of the rest of us. Waste of batteries, is what it is."
"You say that like you think Jerod is somehow less ridiculous than the rest of us." Folly's grin has gone a little lopsided, too.
"My dear brother Corwin keeps in his head at all times a list of which of us is the best swordsman. He can tell you if I am the fifth best swordsman or the sixth, and can re-handicap based on circumstance. If Caine was fighting left-handed and I had a main gauche in my gauche hand but had a nasty burn on my left thumb, for instance, he could tell you who would, in his ever so humble opinion, win. He is a savante.
"I would love to hear how you rate each of us for ridiculousness. In fact, I would expect it to be an epic song, useful for teaching the citizenry the names of the Princes of Amber and Xanadu."
"Oh, I am SO on it," Folly says. Her expression suggests she's already working out the rhyme scheme.
Random smiles his genuine smile, the one not everyone sees. "Speaking of Corwin, did I ever explain to you that I secretly called the solo in 'Walk' 'The Ballad of the Double Crossers'? That was my tribute to his songwriting skills."
"You'd never mentioned it, no," she says, and grins. The tip of her tongue pokes out between her teeth; she's probably figuring how to work that bit into the song, too.
He pulls at her arm. "C'mon, I want to beat some goatskins."
"'Kay," she says with a laugh, and starts walking, grabbing his wrist to pull him along with her. "But I've got at least one more question for you on the way up. What's the deal with pattern swords?"
Random starts leading her up toward the castle.
"Dunno. More than I thought before. Bleys started to give me a math lesson, then said 'the bottom line is leave them alone'." He shrugs. "But Huon wants one because Bleys had one and Bleys beat him. Why, did Dworkin mention them?"
"Worse. Paige did. I think she wants one." With her hand still on Random's wrist, she looks up at the stars twinkling to life in the inky sky; the moon, two days from new, won't be up for hours. "Sounds like Bleys is trying to talk her out of it, too. But she wants to defend against the dragon. Or maybe offend against it."
"Shooting star," he says, and there is one. "I think she offends against the dragon by being alive. Or ordered. If it were me, I'd see if Julian could solve the problem before I took on the commitment of a pattern sword. You don't get done with it after it serves your purpose, as I understand it."
He doesn't seem in any hurry to go inside.
"So it, like, bonds itself to you or something?" Her pace has dropped to a slow stroll. "If I get a chance to talk to her about it again, I'll mention that. And also the part about Julian."
She continues staring up at the sky in awe and fascination. "They remind me a little of the stars in Texorami, you know? Not that you could really see many stars in the city, but...." She gives a wry smile and a little shrug. "It reminds me of that festival where we camped, and Haven spent most of the night in the van because someone said something about snakes." She smiles at the memory, at parts spoken and unspoken.
She stops walking and looks at Syd. "I'll probably be going back there soon. To Texorami, I mean. To talk to my mother. You need any errands run while I'm there?"
Random stops as well, his hand on her hand on his arm. "Well, speaking of Haven, you might want to find out how she's doing. Her invite is open, of course."
"'S'on my list," Folly agrees. "I miss her."
He blinks. "Oh, and could you get your mother to autograph her book for me? I especially liked the chapters on me and on Martin."
Folly rolls her eyes. "I'm not expecting her to change her opinion of Martin anytime soon -- but when she finds out you're now King of Everything, she might at least pretend to like you." She gives him a wry little half-smile as the fingers of her free hand stray to the front of his shirt, settling with a light touch just over his heart.
She gets very quiet.
"I've already got Flora when I need some who pretends to like me," he says, sounding like someone who is forcing the conversation onto another track. "Maybe I wasn't always all that likable. Maybe now that I'm king, I'm gonna find that I'm past my likability peak."
"Dunno. Did you pour all your likability into your Pattern? Is creating Order just another act of Chaosian reproduction? Dworkin said it would have changed you." Her fingers press more firmly to his chest, feeling for his heartbeat, comparing it to the rhythm her senses memorized years ago, and to the rhythms of the sounds around them: waterfall, wind and tide.
Folly can feel his breathing in the waterfall, hear his heartbeat on the wind. And it is his, unchanged. And he's anxious.
She studies him with the same curious fascination she gave the sky. After a moment, the corners of her eyes crinkle in a hint of a smile. She looks up at him, into his eyes. "But I'm pretty sure I still like you."
"You're the one with the most reason not to. I pretty much lied to you every day in Texorami, if not actively then by not letting you know about..." he waves his hand around. "All this."
Folly shakes her head minutely. "You told me there were things you didn't want to talk about, and I accepted it. How can I hold a grudge when I might've made the same choice?" Her hand lifts from his chest and hovers indecisively, halfway to caressing his cheek; but some sudden impulse stays it. Instead she clasps his hand gently in both of hers, trying to soothe his anxiousness. "Now that we have world enough, and time, we could drive ourselves crazy in endless games of 'what if', you know? But I'm much more interested in 'what now?'"
Random sways towards her for a moment, opens his mouth, and closes it. "Hold on. Hold that thought." He closes his eyes. "Who calls?" he says. Whoever is calling may not be able to read his impatience, but Folly can.
She squeezes his hand and releases it -- perhaps wanting to avoid being drawn inadvertently into the contact -- but remains within easy reach, so close that Random can feel the warmth of her hand hovering near his. She watches and waits.
"I am in Xanadu, or in Xanadu but outside Xanadu proper. Close enough, anyway." He holds his hand out, a slightly forced smile on his face. "Come to me."
Folly makes a little frustrated noise in the back of her throat, but takes two steps back to make room for their visitor.
There's a slight delay while Gerard balks, because Hannah has not arranged for someone to take the ship back to Xanadu. Just as Random is about to close the trump contact to "go find someone", Cambina walks up, carrying a bag.
"I'm ready to go."
"You're--"
"Ready to go," she finishes for him. "I have a rucksack packed. I wish you'd asked first." She glares, but only mildly.
"How... But..." Random takes a deep breath "Oooookay, then. Hannah, please take your cousin through to you."
Hannah takes Cambina though gratefully, and looks a lot more relieved than surprised at Cambina's arrival.
Once Cambina has been passed to Tyrell ("I hate these high-tech dumps."), Gerard is willing and ready to return to Xanadu. The transfer progresses smoothly.
[Hannah] thanks Random, and grins at Folly before quickly checking that Gerard made the transfer safely. Then she looks around at where they've trumped through to.
"So what's the news about the Isles?" Hannah asks. She starts picking up luggage to carry it in.
Folly lets Random field that one as he will. Seeing the look of obvious grumpiness on Gerard's face, and knowing that the answer to Hannah's question will likely only add to it, she crosses to his chair and greets him with a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Um, it's bad. Canareth's dead and Jovian is spending some quality time running mad in the woods. He decked Cambina and then Paige. Julian is looking for him. I just got back from there--Robin and Vere called me about Jovian. Um, let's go in, shall we? It's cold out here."
It's not, but Random clearly wants to change the subject.
"Okay," Hannah agrees. She takes a deep breath and smiles. "So is the city filling up?"
"Only in the sense that people keep showing up," Folly says, and grins. "We're nowhere near capacity, though." She reaches for a piece of luggage. It's clear that about half her attention is still on Gerard.
Random waves down the hill. "This one? Um, yeah. Pretty well. We probably need to get some trade routes laid down or something soon, though."
Hannah nods.
Gerard looks up. "D'ye need me tae help wi' that?"
Hannah grins at Gerard. It's the sort of grin a woman might give her husband when she knows he's about to do something to make her crazy, and yet she appreciates him anyway.
Martin leads the way out of Folly's quarters and through the castle. He catches a page and orders horses to be readied for the two of them. By the time they arrive in the courtyard, they have steeds. Martin helps Paige mount, the way he did when they travelled together to Heerat, and then mounts himself. Then they shake the dust of the courtyard off their horses' hooves.
Once they're out of earshot of the castle, Martin says, "I figured I'd conjure an extra horse if I needed one, unless it was too close to the castle. Which would be useful to know."
"The griffon's in the grove on top of the cliff and within Xanadu as best I can tell," Paige answers, hoping she's understanding his question. "We'll see if Artemis returns the mount I just left in Arcadia."
"I'm not sure we'll want it back," Martin mutters, but shuts up as Paige continues.
She nods, but doesn't stop.
"As I said, I can't confirm if there's still a hoplite running about up there, but they claimed to have five men. Couth and I accounted for three and there was one by the griffon," she recaps.
"She says I can't kill the Dragon, that it'll harm the twins due to their connection to Arcadia, because Arcadia will die without the Dragon." Paige seems pissed at the complication of her plans. "I guess that's why Julian hasn't solved it that way yet. It could be something like Amber fading after losing Grandfather."
Martin frowns. "That would make sense. Although for some reason I think more about the Sundering than the fading that's been going on since when you tell me Arcadia will die."
"True enough," she agrees. "Fading is just what came to mind."
Changing the subject slightly, he continues, "What exactly is our plan? Find Couth, feed the griffon, and what? Come home or look for the missing hoplite?"
"I think we're headed to the grove first. If we find Couth along the way, great, but we deal with the dead body first so she can't use it." Paige considers for a moment. "If she knows what Jovian saw in his madness, she knows that Couth and I had captured three hoplites that were within Xanadu. Couth should've dealt with that, but she might go looking for them and find the body or the unaccounted for."
"We deal with the known problem first, then find Couth and then try to determine where the last one is," she decides. "I think."
The Grove is empty. Paige and Martin, who is a reasonably good tracker, think the trail leads back toward Couth.
They follow the trail and arrive at the clearing. Couth is attending a pyre with three dismembered bodies burning on it.
Couth hails as they approach and seems frankly relieved when it proves to be them. Once greetings are exchanged, he reports that he killed and burned the Arcadians in the manner Julian has instructed for those tainted with Deep Green.
"I really don't like that griffon having eaten that feller, now. He's lurking around here somewhere and I'd hate to fight him if the Green took him," Couth says with a frown.
Paige nods as the thought had occurred. "There were two missing according to those," she says with a nod toward the pyre."
"Do you think the griffon ate one and was keeping the other for a late night snack or are you suggesting that the infection could just come from the one he's been picking at?" She tries to remember the scene, wondering if she had mistaken two men's gear for just one body.
She cannot recall for certain.
Couth says, "Girth got it from a leg wound. Warden and Lady Robin had to cut him to bits and burn what was left."
"Christ," says Martin, sounding just like his father. "Where did you see it last?" He loosens his blade in his scabbard.
"I think it followed us here," Couth says to Martin. "Sorry," he adds to Paige.
Martin looks to Paige. "We going after the missing guy or big game?"
"I don't know if we can take the big game, but it's the priority, and if one dead guy ended up in the Grove, perhaps the trail of the other crossed it," she decides shaking her head. "So find the griffon here, deal with it and then the other hoplite, returning to the Grove if we don't find a trail from here.
"Hannah's going to kill me," she sighs as she mounts again. "Or Dworkin."
Martin looks at himself and at Paige, clearly assessing their capabilities. "Scratch that plan. We don't have the resources to deal with a griffon. Especially not one gone over to whatever killed Adonis. Let's head back and see if we can find the trail of the men. And if not, we need to head back to the castle for better gear and reinforcements before we try that griffon."
Paige nods, seemingly relieved.
"Beggin' yer pardon," says Couth. "I need to report in to the Warden."
"Don't we all?" Paige adds wryly. "Martin, you have a Trump of him?"
Martin pulls out his Trump deck and offers Julian's card to Paige, bypassing Couth's hand, which obviously means to take it. He looks at Paige, the unspoken message of who gets to report to the Warden clear.
Paige rolls her neck, trying to drive some of the tension away. "I'll pass anything you need Couth, but I need to speak to him directly as some of what's to be discussed is Family business."
She composes herself, and concentrates on the card, willing the wind to catch his dark hair, or the dappled light that filters through the trees to move upon his white armor...
The Warden of Arden is sitting before a fire somewhere in a forest. She can tell this because there is smoke between the two of them.
Julian's pristine armor has been besmirched and he's had no time to clean it. There's a cut on his forehead, healing, and an older one that's almost faded away on his cheek. His eyes are stormy.
He accepts the contact, saying, "I told you not to contact me again unless--oh, Paige, it is you. What news?"
Paige blinks as it first occurs to her that she might be the first to tell Julian of Jovian. Business like she starts in. "The King set me to scouting the woods above Xanadu for... well... for whatever we might find. Couth accompanied me. We encountered warriors from Arcadia and the found shadowpaths that led us there, close, as were in Arden it seems. The men had the taint of Deep Green and Couth's dealt with the first three as you've proscribed. There's at least one more body to deal with and another of their company unaccounted for. We've concerns about a griffon that has been feeding off the one dead body as well, but Martin's of the opinion that him, Couth and myself aren't currently up to that task."
She hesitates before moving on, but can't stop now as she'd look like she was avoiding the topic, which arguably she is. "While first interrogating the Arcadians, we encountered Jovian, running as if madness had taken him. He seemed to be shifitng Shadow on instinct as I made chase."
Her eyes play at the edges of the card and the whorls of smoke between them, not meeting his. "He was looking for a dragon and found... the Deep Green, I fear. Canerath..." The words come hard, even for a creature she had feared to trust of late. "Jovian lost him.
"Arcadia's sink drew us and Artemis and your son's skill at wrestling kept me from giving further chase." She touches the swollen lip at the corner with the tip of her tongue, still tasting the blood even after cleaning up at the castle.
Julian cuts her off. "Where are you? Bring me through." He reaches for her hand.
"Still in the wood atop the cliff," she says, extending her hand. "Suppose we should get the King to name it."
Julian takes her hand and comes through. He's filthy and looks like he's had the crap beaten out of him. Recently, too, if he heals like most of the rest of the family. "Thank you," he says to Paige, precise in his manners as always. Then, to Martin, "Your Highness."
Martin nods, once. "Uncle," he murmurs, and makes it sound like something other than a curse.
Couth stands straighter as Julian's eyes fall on him. "Couth. Report."
"Griffon's loose. May be Green-tainted. We got three that may be tainted. I kilt 'em and burned the bodies. Two more, but we think the griffon may have et one, which is why we think it might be tainted. Children are safe at the castle here." Couth is unusually concise.
"We were going to go back and find the men," Martin offers. "We're not in shape to take on a Griffon."
Julian frowns. "You most certainly are not. What will you do if you find it?"
Martin laughs. It's not a nice laugh. "Run like hell and live to fight another day."
"You are your father's son," Julian replies. It's not a compliment. He turns to Paige. "Tell me where you saw Artemis and Jovian."
"Kidney shaped lake. I assume it was Arcadia, but having never been," she shrugs. "She claimed if you but spoke her name anywhere, one time husband, that she'd come to you."
"I am familiar with the lake. And I doubt she will come here now," Julian says. "I will invoke her in due time. First, there are other things I must invoke." He whistles, as if for a hound.
Turning his attention back to Paige. "What other family news is there? I had little from Random. Our discussion was not pleasant."
"It is still likely more than I can offer you, Uncle, save impending pregnancies and weddings, and I'm still not the one to talk to about that," she admits.
Martin says nothing.
"My current interests are limited to the idea that Artemis suggested destruction of... her mother will result in the death of all of Adonis's children and the loss of Arcadia. She believed that the twins would surivive but be hollow where that heritage should live.
"That's not an option, so how do we imprison Her again?" Paige seems to be determined to be part of this solution.
"I do not believe you possess the requisites for the solution I devised," Julian replies dispassionately. "And that solution has failed."
Martin and Couth trade looks, but both of them manage not to smirk.
"Well, then we need a new one, don't we?" Paige answers a little shortly, not upset with him but herself. "You had two children who embraced their roles as gods in Arcadia." She can't even believe that she's considering this. "Is Artemis being truthful when she claims that if they become... that, whatever it is... they can help return their great-grandmother to dormancy?
"To be precise, she said she'd need your Rangers as well to put down a sister's rebellion as well," she adds.
Julian frowns at that last. "My Rangers are already quite busy protecting Arden and Amber from Arcadian depredations. It is unfortunate that my oaths and my orders from my father preclude me from being a further tool in my former consort's efforts to control Arcadia."
"You might be able to get the Ruby knights to help with that," Martin suggests.
Julian gives Martin a withering look.
"Because the guys who came back from the other side have no experience with freaky shit, of course," Martin says drily.
Couth starts to say something, but falls silent as Julian replies, "And because their experience in Chaos is so applicable to Arden and Arcadia." He turns back to Paige. "I honestly do not know what the effect of letting Leif and Brooke assume their godhood would be. Daeon and Dionne were the first of their kind. Replacing them could restabilize the balance they established, renew it as things are now, or nothing."
"I realize that most my father's generation have been anal retentive enough for long enough that they might shit diamonds," Paige frowns.
Couth openly gapes at this blatant disrespect to the Warden. Martin's face is so carefully blank that he must be thinking something he really doesn't want to let on.
"But the Rubies might be all that's available to me if you're unable to provide more help than Couth." Holds up a hand to stop herself. "Don't get me wrong, Couth's been invaluable and the children seem to have a great deal of respect for him, but as you say, we're unable face a griffon today." She leaves the idea of facing Artemis's sister's rebellion as an exercise in futility.
"Too bad that I've no Knight Commanders at hand to direct them," she adds with some frustration. "So, what's the next play, Uncle?" The question is directed such that she wouldn't be surprised if Martin answers just as easily.
"Not your concern," Julian says coldly. There's a low rumbling off in the distance and everyone takes a moment to realize it's the thundering of hooves not long before Julian's giant engine of a horse arrives in the clearing.
"Couth, continue to watch the children. Your Highness, pray tell your father that I've gone to get my son back from the Dragon. Paige--" Julian's expression goes from cold to downright arctic "--stay out of matters you are incapable of understanding."
Julian leaps onto Morgenstern's back and takes the reins, clearly ready to leave.
"I'm sorry Uncle, but I'm going to be involved as long as your grandchildren are... capable or not." She shakes her head, clearly frustrated by his arrogance, but bites down her on the bile. Paige walks over slowly and purposefully to lay a hand on his knee.
Looking up, she meets his gaze. "If you're to save Jovian where I can't, you can't waste time arguing with me." Deadly serious, she continues. "But I promise that if you can't spare time soon to help me understand or demonstrate my failings, I *will* make decisions on my own. I will not sit idly by and allow any danger to stalk my children.
"I'd think it would suit us all to work together, but that decision is in your hands now," she finishes. "Good hunting, Uncle."
Julian looks down at her from the great horse's back. "Yes, it is. Pray keep that in mind against my return." He signals Morgenstern with the slightest of movements and it's moving and gone before they can respond further.
Martin looks at Couth and gives the tiniest shake of his head. Couth says nothing.
Paige turns and regains her seat. "We've got a body and perhaps a living hoplite to burn, gentlemen. I think we should get to it, yes?" She turns her horse toward where she believes the Grove's analog should lie.
Couth and Martin mount up as well, and they head off to where the Grove-analog with the little pool.
Paige is suitably quiet, other than asking Martin if she might borrow Julian's Trump for a bit.
Martin suggests that it'll need to wait.
The ride back is peaceful, and without further event. Once they arrive at the edge of the clearing, Couth dismounts and tells Paige and Martin to wait while he looks for tracks in the grove.
Martin stays mounted while Couth examines the ground.
"This is where we first encountered the Griffon," Paige explains to Martin. She herslef is looking to the big rock beside the fall, hoping to see the remains of the original eaten body.
There is a body. Couth examines it first. "Don't look like the griffon et much, if anything," he yells back to Martin and Paige.
Martin breathes out a sigh of relief.
After carefully looking around for about a quarter-hour, Couth decides he's got a trail. Meanwhile, outside the grove, Martin has been looking for wood. Finally he comes back and says "We're too close. I can't just Find enough."
"We'll have to cut some wood. But not here. This place is sacred," Couth says.
The threesome manage to cut down a number of small trees and make a pyre for the dead hoplite, well away from the grove. Couth sets it aflame, and with hard concentration, Martin and Paige are able to force the flames to consume the body.
Afterwards, they follow the trail. It wanders off into shadow, and at the end of it, there's another wounded hoplite. Martin and Paige together make short work of the hoplite and in Shadow, they find it much easier to burn the corpse to ashes.
Then they all ride back to Castle Xanadu. It's pushing dawn by the time they get there.
Martin makes his excuses and heads off to report to Random. Couth is ready to follow Paige to her chambers to see the children.
Last modified: 18 February 2007