Brennan closes the Trump contact with Ossian, and looks around the map and chart room again. In particular, he regards the mosaic with some degree of longing-- it would be a fascinating exercise to study it in detail, to compare and contrast with what he remembered of Benedict's maps on the Isle of Apples itself. Has the land changed since then? Has the map updated itself? Will it?
And separately, not for the first time, Brennan wonders if there is an application of Ossian's Art to cartography. He has a Trump of Amber in his pack, and what would a map of Amber be, if not a picture drawn from a very far perspective?
But those would take hours and leisure that Brennan does not have.
He sets off to find Ramjollock again and, if the King is alone-- or at least in the company only of trusted advisors-- he informs him: "I've done what I can. If those departing forces aim to raid the nearby coasts, they may find unusually stiff opposition, and I've made it known to someone I trust that a grain shipment would be lucrative. But no promises were made. How are you fixed for payments?"
Ram looks pleased. "Well done, my friend. It would certainly not be unwelcome, especially if there is a long seige or if the rumors of a Corsair flotilla are more than air. Our other guests have also assisted with the supply problem and it seems we have more wizardry on our side than our opponents did.
"As for payment, I am fixed like a King, which is to say, I have little cash, but many incentives for those who prefer those to cash. I can work with anyone who wants to bring us supplies, assuming they can get through the lines."
Brennan doesn't bother to shrug. He'd have arranged for Ram's people to find a convenient cache of funds-- preferably without smirking Corwin-heads on the coins-- but if it isn't needed, he won't bother.
He turns towards his secretary, and then changes his mind. "Were you planning on leaving with Sir Firumbras? I take it their party intends to take advantage of the respite."
Brennan's voice chills considerably. "Do they," he says. "How fortunate for them, then, that I am ready to escort them home. If you've no more need of me, King," and probably even if he does, Brennan departs.
Ram does not, and wishes him well. He is specifically invited back when his errands are done.
For much of his former time in Avalon, Brennan had tried to make the Shadows lie for him, to better portray himself as an uncouth, itinerant sell-sword, of the sort common enough here. Since his re-arrival with Jerod and Ossian, he hasn't bothered. If anything, it's been quite the contrary: arriving fresh from a battle outside a forest fire and a chase over the smoke of his enemies' defeat with just enough wear to show he'd been on the winning side of a fight; then, arriving immaculate at the banquet that evening.
Brennan extends that, now, to his Knights by conjury. If for some reason they've been unable to polish their armor, repair or replace their garb, wash the smoke out of it and so forth, they'll find that someone has done it for them by the time Brennan goes to collect them.
They'll know why he's gathering them up-- to take them to the Moonriders and begin their escort back to Ghenesh.
Brennan asks if they have any questions before they depart.
Dame Jennet speaks, the rest seem willing to let her be first. "If we become separated, what are your orders?"
Brennan has a ready answer for that: "You stick together, you get back to Amber, and you find Caine or whoever is sitting regent. Caine knows what we're about. In the worst case situation that they try to imprison me or take me hostage, those orders stand. Tell him that I am not worth a prisoner swap; that it is impossible to long imprison a Lord of Amber against his will; and that Fiona has the means to contact me. Do not, under any circumstances, attempt a rescue yourselves." That last-- that the Knights should not try to effect a rescue-- he makes them repeat out loud.
"Here is how you get home," he says, after that, and draws from his pack the Dworkin-drawn card of Amber. He instructs them briefly in its use and then tests to see which of them have sufficient strength of will to operate it. Generally, Brennan hopes that Tenacity will be one of those with abundant reserves, because if things really get bad the rest of them are probably going to have to defend whoever is operating it.
"I have only one of these. The rest are for individuals who may elect not to answer, making them unsuitable for evacuation. So you look after yourselves as a group."
Jennet, Tenacity, Korbie, Flagstone all succeed. The others feel like they need more practice.
Jennet tucks the card into her breastplate. Otherwise, they have no more questions.
Having seen Marius into a temporary watch under Triton guard, Celina asks her aunt/brother, "So did his story upset you or did you sense foreign Pattern intent?" Llewella is older so the royal question is shaded more in her direction.
Merlin speaks up first, surprisingly: "I could not sense foreign Pattern or Sorcery so close to the Rebman Pattern, but I have some idea what happened to him." Llewella is giving him a Look, so he continues, "Martin and Edan must have been carrying something secret--or someone--and Edan made it clear he struck Marius down. And regretted the necessity."
"That sounds like Martin's doing," Llewella says, and Merlin shrugs helplessly and nods his agreement.
And nothing in Llewella's voice says she would not have done the same. Celina remembers her mother's face so precisely the morning Celina threatened to eat the Queen. So like the sea, rolling in balance until it very much isn't at all and then smash you go down, down, down.
Celina nods at Merlin. "Necessity and Rebma go together, methinks."
To Aunt Llewella, she asks, "It seems to me that a Foreign Pattern is not Rebma Pattern. Did you get any vibe from Marius that we should warn the guard about? Or should I just go and talk to him some more while you peer closer? I'm honest in my concern for his welfare."
"If he's under a Pattern influence like that, it's nontrivial to sort out from his own connection to the Pattern," Llewella explains. "But if you want to talk to him further, I will come with you. I'm just not convinced I'll be able to tell much more than you can. If we had the Jewel--either one of them--" she trails off.
Celina keeps her voice steady enough the yearning is moot, "Yes. If we did." I'm going to have to do something about that. I may be the only person who can find it.
Celina shakes her head no, "Let's not press Marius now. However, talk to the Tritons, Llewella, I want three Tritons rotating as a backup to the one Marius can see 'protecting' him. If Marius wanders or tries to find our Pattern, I want to block him immediately. Fair?"
"A good plan," Llewella says.
"This confuses me," Merlin says. "Do we not want him to walk the Pattern, to clear him of the influence on him? Or do we think it will reinforce whatever influence he is under?"
Celina faces Merlin, "There are permutations of disaster in allowing an ancient PatternMistress access to a Pattern stewarded by a novice. That's the situation from my point of view. If Marius is contaminated by an agenda that runs counter to Xanadu, as may appear to be the case, then he may be under influence of the Queen of Air and Darkness. She has knowledge going back to Moins and Oberon, maybe even further. This Queen may be scrapping for her domain or some sort of justice that was denied by Oberon. So far, she seems to have gotten the better of Vialle, and thereby also confused King Random, he may not be able to recover. Then as you suggested, you misliked something about the way Marius was acting around King Corwin. You see the commonality that there are very narrow vulnerabilities and all Patterns are possible targets."
Celina speaks less intensely, "He did not look at me in any particular way that felt... predatory. As I said, I'd like to help him. It shall have to be a cautious series of steps. By allowing him to rest and recover, by inferring in front of Llewella that he could have been felled by some spell he never saw coming, I've given us some time, some wiggle room." Celina shrugs, "An hour from now, he may feel rested and be asking for examination. He may wonder at his own actions over the last week. Or he may be armed and taking me hostage."
"He will not," Merlin says, sounding almost outraged. "I will not let him."
"He's maybe under an influence, Celina. He's no more powerful than the rest of you, and less than me, and probably even than Merlin. And you have resources he can't fight." Llewella glances at Merlin; the last seems as much about reassuring him as it does about reassuring Celina. "The Queen of Air and Darkness is one thing, but Marius is, at worst, her agent." She turns back to Celina. "In any case, don't be alone with him."
Celina nods easily, "I thought about giving him a chance at me to see his deeper intentions. I won't though because that may be the slippery slope that got Random." She smiles reassurance at Merlin.
"So onto other things. If Marius does volunteer to help me find Huon, who do we send with him as an insurance they both come back? Does Lamell have an ambitious student or two?"
Llewella's lip twitches. "Lamell has ambitious students. Merlin and I will sort them out, if you like. Between the two of us, we should be able to tell which is least incompetent."
Celina checks herself before speaking honestly to that lip twitch. She softly clears her throat. "The sending is into danger, with rewards to match. I'd like to send two or three if you see any kind of tense ambitions. Give Marius a challenge if he thinks to cross me. Thank you for offering.
"Something else for you two to comment. I'm going after the Sapphire myself. It likely means a Regency for you Auntie. It has to be done. I really have little choice." Celina sets her calm Takhi.
Before Llewella can reply, Merlin says, "I am going with you."
Celina calmly says, "I shall consider that." She waits on Llew.
"We don't need him here," Llewella says indulgently, as if Merlin were a child. "My largest concern is how to deal with my brothers and sisters. I'm not inclined to take Trump calls with Random and who knows else under a foreign influence, but it's not like anyone in Xanadu has a way to reach me. Someone in Paris can at least come down the stair."
"Well, I'm sure my Father can invite himself down the stair if things go that way. I don't have any qualms about you keeping the Trumps quiet. I'll check in while traveling, of course." Celina is shell-faced that there isn't a stronger pushback from Llewella regards the queen going off for months.
Celina shifts her look back to Merlin. "Yes, once I assemble the right set of instructions here, it might be we need to leave before anyone from Random makes it here to ask where we are."
And if Merlin is as quick to agree with that as she expects, Celina will go about comments to her Lady of the Jeweled Kilts regards what to watch for in coming weeks, including the idea that Rebma be not quick to pass resources to Random or his agents until Celina says otherwise.
Celina tries in all things to contain her excitement at pursuing the Jewel into Shadow.
Merlin agrees, and when Llewella asks for a Trump of Celina, willingly gives her his own card of her. Other than that and gathering whatever he needs, he can be ready to go quickly. He asks Celina where she expects to go and how she expects to follow the trail of the Jewel in order to make his preparations.
"Well, we know Moire went to Paris to make her exit, we also believe that she does not walk the shadows, except as a topological exercise of finding paths well-trod. She probably has a better idea of where she can get to that will allow her to 'wait out' the current wrinkle in her plans." Celina makes her preparations as she chats. Knives. Dazzle beads. Pocket glass. Clothing. Rations. Careful not to count out things, but just gather them into a non-descript sack. "One answer would be for me to find a place where I can wait out the unrest of the Xanadu situation. It would likely be similar to the one Moire is at. And we tend to nudge together in shadow. Another thought is to get to a place that Moire needs, replacing her long crafted mirror from Paris. A third thought is one of geometry. If we travel a large broad circle of shadows, but in each one, we take an impression of where the path leads to the jewel, we cut lines pointing to the location. The problem there is that it gives her plenty of time to move if that's what she is doing. Which idea do you like better?"
"We should draw cards to see which path to take," Merlin says at once. "Perhaps they will even give us an additional idea of how to pursue your mother."
The sudden pang of needing a tub hug with Folly catches her by surprise. Other thoughts intrude as a result. Celina decides she may have to add carnal stops to this shadow adventure.
Being queen definetly is not fun.
Celina nods. "That's a great idea. It has been good for me in the past. Let's do a full read."
Celina takes Merlin to the airy chamber.
When they arrive in the airy chamber, Merlin brings out his cards and lets Celina shuffle them, before laying out six cards in the pyramid order:
Bottom Row:
Spring
The Priestess
The Lion
Second Row:
Fearing Shadows (Reversed)
Inspiration (Reversed)
Top Card:
The Law
Celina watches closely as Merlin presents the cards in the Tradition. She is full of stillness and excitement when he is done. Something holds her quiet for a long time. Then in a hushed voice, she begins speaking.
"The Past is not distant with new queens arising from the Winter of Rebma. Not everything of beauty can flourish, but the hope is there. The cycle is progress. Khela did everything she could. I shall do no less.
"The Present is full of miracles and dreams." Celina pauses again for a long time. Are unsettling dreams then a Queen's duty? "Magic and more possibilities, if they can be gathered. We need to go and get that Jewel.
"The Future is ... The Lion is everything I need. A thriving City. A people that are whole and full of grace." In the Airy Chamber, Merlin can see that Celina is tearing up.
"The Virtue reversed is mystery revealed. Secrets undone. Safety and Understanding. The time is ripe then to find what I need.
"The Fault reversed is where we are and what I fear, the stagnation of a lost Queen replaced by one who cannot carry the Pattern. Moire could not do it, but she had guile aplenty. I cannot be that kind of queen. I must do the real work. The people deserve it. Moire has tricked us. She is hiding in Paris. She took the men out into shadows only long enough to make a false trail. Yes. Everything she needs is in Paris. The Glass. The contacts of years. Men who will do anything she wants. How could I have been so fooled.
"These are all...wonderful and powerful cards." Celina moves then and caresses the Fate card with her fingers.
"Fate. Here we are ready to tip the scales. Order." Celina speaks very softly. "Or Treachery. Oh, mother, have you broken faith with us?"
Celina looks at Merlin, overcome with many strong emotions, "Thank you, Merlin."
"You are welcome, sister, but I am not sure what I did, other than cast the cards. The question and the answer are from you." Merlin smiles, then his smile fades into a more thoughtful look. "You can work with our father's people but you might also try calling on Vere's folk if they are still near the city. They respect women and might be able to give you aid. They might know useful people in the city."
"Yes, they will. And the Roths and Lance. I do not find ease in Paris, the men there are selfish in general. We can expect Moire will be well hidden and dominant over important people who feel less favor towards the absent King. Also I feel the cards may tell us Moire has not accomplished much to upset Order's balance as yet. If you gather Bill and Lance to our purpose of finding Her, I shall talk to the Children of Lir. I'll tell them the City needs the Token back for its Life. I think she's hiding among the rich trades, where the ambitious have coin and thugs to do secret work."
Celina encourages Merlin's counterpoints about the reading (if any).
"The cards we think of as Virtue and Fault are sometimes considered to be merely opposing interests," Merlin points out. "So one the one hand recognizing what is safe--safe for whom? You or Rebma? Or the both of you together--versus stagnation--again, for you or Rebma? Or is all of it about Moire? Because the three are all tied closely together."
"Interesting," Celina nods. "Stagnation is bad for me, I can tell. And the city could be said to be in that status since Moins passed." Celina thought about the City versus herself in terms of the secrets revealed. She tapped her chin. "Well, let's see what we see. I do feel that there is something that Moins never revealed to her daughters about the throne. A perspective that would matter in sitting the throne."
Celina puts her Aunt Llewella on notice that she has the Regent duties. "I go to Paris to uncover what Moire may have done there while everyone is looking at Xanadu."
And so in the middle of the night, she heads to the caves with Merlin.
In the middle of the night, Celina and Merlin depart for Paris. They travel up the stairs without incident and have time to change into surface-appropriate clothes before they arrive in their father's city. There are guards at the opening into Paris, as expected. How does Celina wish to identify herself and Merlin? (He will back her play.)
Celina tells the guards they are cousins of King Corwin and wonder if they can present themselves to Ambassador Roth.
If they don't seem to recognize Merlin, Celina sees no reason they'll question such a thing.
They don't recognize Merlin because Merlin has shifted shape somewhat and doesn't look like himself. Well, he looks like himself but with green skin and hair, so the guards treat him like a bodyguard.
They are presented to Bill and Alice, who are happy to greet them, and left alone, and Merlin shifts back to his own person. "I am sorry for the deception," he tells them once they've all recovered from the shock. "But we travel secretly, for reasons my sister will tell you."
Celina expects to reveal all but magic does seem to be part of Paris' fabric, so she narrows her gaze, switches to arcane inspection. If there are influences she'll thin her narration.
The Third Eye is risky here in a place of power, but Celina is disciplined and manages to look anyway at Bill and Alice. They show no sign of Sorcerous influence. If there is a Pattern influence on them, Celina cannot ascertain it (and certainly not its origin).
Celina's manner becomes more inviting and transparent. She summarizes events in Xanadu and her quick exit there. She speaks of Rebma at the ready to throw might and magic to defending Random from the dark gripping muddle he has been shrouded within.
Then Celina is speaking of the present, the cards, the suddenly clarity that Moire did not want a heavy search of Paris, so the ex-queen laid a trail out into shadow with the stolen Children of Lir.
Celina is here to search the bloody shadows of Paris for Moire's intents and Rebma's heart stone. She asks for helpful ideas about where an ambitious woman with intangible strengths would hide in the great city.
Bill has all sorts of ideas of parts of the city where Celina could look, and the sorts of things Moire might be doing. Alice, who's more practical, says she expects Celina should find someone in the salons who might know where to look. Basically among literary women and courtesans: that's where Celina and Merlin will find female figures of power. Bill, Celina can tell, doesn't really like that idea but he can't disagree with it entirely either.
Celina bridges a thought Bill isn't going to like either.
She suggests that for the moment, they split their efforts. Merlin can work with Bill to sniff around glass works, underworld types, male charlatans of magic, and rich men with deep pockets. Celina reminds Bill that Moire may have the psyche presence to befuddle men's minds.
Celina will help Alice refine her ideas and lay out a hierarchy of places to look for powerful women who might seek glory at Moire's side. Then they can regroup in a day or two and share progress.
Bill doesn't like it but he sees the logic. It's Merlin the shapeshifter who would like to remind Celina that he can appear as they need him to and Celina shouldn't be alone with Alice against Moire. With all due respect to Alice, who is an excellent chatelaine but not trained in the courtly arts of fighting, or, from what Corwin has said, poisons.
Both Alice and Bill are a bit uncertain of how to take that last.
Celina doesn't doubt Merlin's sincerity in the least part. She nods agreement.
All things being settled, they move on. Celina suspects that Alice's ideas won't have practical warfare ingenuity but may be closer to the mark on how Paris actually works. She's eager to brainstorm with Alice. Except, as agreed, limited field trips to gather news.
Anything else Alice wants to try, probably Celina will go along with to see what comes of it.
"Do you know who we should talk to?" Alice says to Celina. "Who really knows the movers and shakers in this town? In the absence of Princess Florimel, you should talk to your father's mistress, Felicity."
Celina nods. That seems about right. She adds for Alice, "Yes. It would be easier for Felicity to speak if you go with me, yes? I mean, I don't want her to think the daughter is asking for secrets in Father's absence."
If Alice finds that awkward, Celina will understand (a little) and go find Felicity based on Alice's best guess.
"Of course," Alice says. "It's the sixties, or it was on Earth anyhow. I may be your father's chatelaine, but I'm not a Victorian prude." There are crinkles around the corners of her eyes where she's trying to hold in a smile.
Celina wonders if the Victorian Prudes were some sort of cohort of female warriors. She nods. "I'll let Merlin know to practice his gender swap for next time. She'll be our reserve card to play. I take it that Felicity enjoys a demesne close by?"
Celina gathers herself, takes suggestions for a change of clothes if Alice makes it, and asks for a minute alone. Celina checks her dazzle beads and notes any changes in local magic flow since the last time she was here. She spends a moment staring downward thinking about the chamber where Corwin's pattern resides. If he were here, I'd have his blessing. Pay attention, please.
And off they go to talk to Felicity.
Fletcher awakens from a dream, in which he has seen a version of the Unicorn as she appeared that night when Conner faced off against the Moonrider, only she was instead nudging a long-legged version of Dworkin as he had appeared when he carried Fletcher off of the Primal Pattern. Fletcher shakes his head, trying to make sense of it. He's fully-dressed by the time he decides some things are best confronted rather than deciphered. Before leaving his room he draws his sword and inspects it. The ancient blade is as pristine as when last he checked it. He wonders for about the billionth time what power Oberon used to bind it to him, for it is decidedly not one of the famous Pattern swords that several of his younger relatives carry.
Fletcher ponders the difference between understanding power and wielding power as he careens through the keep's kitchens simultaneously amassing and consuming his breakfast. Breakfast is satisfying regardless of the hour. Fresh bread and cheese and eggs and sausage have a power that a more nutritious protein bar might not.
Refreshed and fully awake he starts preparing mentally for the Pattern. He still remembers walking the Pattern in Amber, and the understanding that opened up to him then. The endless possibilities and the power over probability helped him understand his purpose, serving as a knight in his granddad's (and great-grandmother's) service. He remembers seeing the Pattern in Xanadu, not the same and yet still so incredibly similar. His more recent experience with the Pattern in Paris (can it really be younger than him?) was much the same. (Was it Corwin's influence on the Pattern that it triggered more melancholy memories?) But today he will walk the Pattern that was created by (or through?) his father.
He's still amused that his Dad is now an elder statesman... of sorts. Fletcher walks the walls of the keep, and along the way asks the watchmen for word of his father, who he catches up with in a meeting with some of his officers. When his father's business is settled, it's finally time to go to the Pattern. A word from Benedict causes one of the guardsmen to unlock and open the door to the stairs and the darkness. Fletcher descends into the darkness, seeking the light. Some people might consider the stairs interminable, but to someone of Fletcher's age they're merely a distraction and the winding tunnels are a chance to think about the similarities between the Patterns. They are separate, yet connected. Can Oberon's Pattern truly be lost if it once existed? A maudlin resolve takes shape in Fletcher's mind as he finally comes to this Pattern of Avalon. This Pattern... new to him, but somehow closer to his blood. He reaches over his shoulder and grips his sword. Sure in its solidity, he inhales and steps onto the light.
Benedict stands at the doorway, watching, letting Fletcher walk the path, which looks as ancient as all the others and which throws sparks in the traditional way. Whenever the curves of the pattern put him in sight of the door, Benedict is there. Fletcher knows that soon he will be unable to see his father, but he also knows that his father will be there, watching, until the end.
Each step takes more concentration and incrementally more willpower to push through the resistance. The sparks are up to his thighs and he can tell that he's approaching the first veil. He tries to remember how the pattern here is different from Corwin's but it's hard. He knows this is right, and is the one in his blood, but that one was right as well. This feels like his father, somehow. Not like Corwin.
"I should hope not," says a voice that sounds like the King of Paris. "Two musicians don't play the same piece exactly the same way. Hell, one musician doesn't play the same piece exactly the same way twice. Did you learn anything from me? Pattern walks reinforce who we are, but if you want to be the protagonist of your own story you have to grow and change. Are you willing to change? To take the risk to be something different than what you've been since we were young? If you can't be flexible, you can only shatter."
The pressure is immense and somehow this is the first veil, but it's unclear what Fletcher needs to do to break through it.
Fletcher leans in to the veil, knowing that pressing on is always the right thing to do, that he won't shatter and the Pattern will reinforce that truth about him. Corwin's words goad him... but then again the... style? Tone? Of this Pattern isn't what he would have expected from his father. Growth and change: a hundred barbs and hurts and irritations flash through his mind in that instant; his parents' arguments, experiences at court. So many of them lose their meaning in the light of this new Pattern, this expression of who his father is, just as Corwin is not the Corwin of his youth. He pushes his catalog of ancient pains aside, leaving it to fall into the sparks behind him. He has new mysteries to plumb -- the promulgation of Patterns, the relationship between the unicorn and the moonriders... and several other lesser questions need to be addressed after he walks this Pattern. But now his will and and his senses are more focused than even on this moment, pushing forward, feeling for the way through this veil.
Fletcher breaks through the pattern's first veil, and into the grand curve, where the footwork is easy but the sparks rise up his legs, foreshadowing the resistance to come. The pattern both compels and resists him. There is only one path forward and he walks along it. Using his will to force himself forward. His father stands at the door, watching in silence as he progresses.
He loses track, after a time, of the turns and the distant door. The sparks light his way as well as concealing more distant details. He can tell where to step, and each step is exactly where it should be and new to him at the same time. Fletcher struggles with the path and knows that this is the lead up to the second veil.
The veil has always been both a real thing and a metaphor for some sort of mental challenge. Some thought that needs to be expressed or suppressed, some impulse that passes his head. Sometimes he wonders if it's just woolgathering as he moves, but like Tir-na Nog'th, it's populated by ghosts who are decidedly uncomfortable to confront. "Ghosts, are we?" asks a woman he cannot see. "A fair thought from a man who is a ghost himself. As lost in time as we are, but we have a place that is our anchor, at least. What anchors you, Knight of the Unicorn, when there have been none of your kind for centuries? Do you ever wonder if you have outlived yourself?"
Fletcher instinctively redoubles his efforts in the face of criticism. Fletcher responds, "I will stand in the light of a new day, ghost!" Amid the sparks and strain of his walk, it comes out as a whisper. He realizes that he could confront his past forever, and that all he'd be doing is avoiding his future. This perspective of Order in Avalon is somewhat closer to his blood and his bones than the other Patterns. His ghosts may just be the wool to be gathered as a result of his longevity, but with every step on this new Pattern he's winnowing them down, finding what must be confronted and what can be ignored. Has he outlived himself? Is his purpose fulfilled? Hardly. The scions of the Unicorn are meant to carry forward the inspiration she provided of Order standing against chaos. The notion that an idea can have power and that there is such a thing as Right. Even if many of his relatives seem to think that existence is merely about survival and battling for supremacy, they still serve that purpose as the Faiella-Bionin flexes and grows with each new tower that appears along the wall. And so does Fletcher.
The modern Knights of the Unicorn may bear little resemblance to the Knights of old, but they still stood against the Black Road just as their predecessors stood against the Moonrider attack on Amber and a hundred other foes that have since been forgotten. Perhaps they need to be focused on more than the move from Amber to Xanadu. Now, though, Fletcher narrows his focus on the sensation of the building resistance. Right now in this moment staying in motion is more important than being anchored. Fletcher inches forward in the face of rising sparks. Somewhere his father is watching. His father is also there in the sparks. Fletcher recognizes that dual nature and walks on using his will as much as he uses his legs. Other ghosts will have to wait until he's done.
Willpower and muscle-power are the two engines of getting through a patternwalk. Who was that? The Queen of Air and Darkness? Pastoral? A voice he'd heard a thousand years ago? It didn't matter, it wasn't now and it was not important.
He pushed on. He knew there were two Veils to come, it was written in his bones. But he knew from long experience that it had not always been thus. Another challenge approached, this one both difficult to push through and requiring concentration because the steps would be tricky even with no resistance. He was focused on his will, and his need to move and never, ever stop. Step, step, turn. It nearly overwhelmed him, the effort, the difficulty. He had done it, he would do it again, it was not in him to fail. The sparks flew higher.
"Isn't it, though?" says Random's voice, as if the King was walking beside him. "Lots of our relatives have failed. My sister. Morganthe. Pinabello. Khela. Others. Probably some sons and daughters so old that only you are older than they would be. It can happen. Has happened. Why are you convinced you'll succeed? You failed to come back for so long that you lost track of the world and it lost track of you. You want to be part of this world, what do you offer it that makes you special?"
It's not the King, or it's not the King now, but it has the rhythm of his voice.
Fletcher struggles to phrase a response as he walks. It takes him two steps before he replies. "Things that should not have been forgotten were. I was not gone. I was away. Coming back isn't failure, and being special is overrated. I may never be Queen of Rebma, or Dworkin's best pupil, but I come back. And more than most of the younger people I've met I believe. Despite centuries of encroaching cynicism, I believe in Order, and our place in the universe. It's not just a political game or a mathematical puzzle or a military challenge. Purpose matters. Trying to understand the Unicorn. Trying to be better not just for power but as an exemplar. And sometimes what is needed is not 'special' but another set of hands. Why do I think I'll succeed? Because I know I'll succeed. I believe. And if anyone's forgotten that they just need a reminder."
Fletcher's feet are still moving along a line he feels in his soul. He believes and focuses on counting his steps. "One more. One more. One more...."
"It wasn't always 'one more'," the ghost says. "Your body doesn't remember, but your mind might. Or might not. Two veils before the final, once upon a time. Your body changed with the universe. And history, and everything. Adaptability is a wonderful thing." This one sounds like his father and it's very strange, this feeling that his father is with him, his father is at the door, and his father is everywhere at once. It's disconcerting how he's suddenly different than Fletcher remembers. "You have your knighthood and it gives you structure, But the King has changed, and the land has changed, and I have changed, and you have changed, without even wanting to. Are you sure you are my son, or that I am still your father this many hundreds of years later, or is that merely who we were to each other long ago? You're walking through my inner being, if I have such a thing, and I may not be the man you think I am. What place do you have for me in your personal and cosmological understanding of the world, Fletcher? What are you to me, and me to you?"
Fletcher laughs at the classic misunderstanding between him and this vision representing his father. "I meant it's always just one more step!" he declares, continuing forward amid the brightening sparks. "But yes things change. At one point Corwin dwelled in Avalon and now it's yours. When did that happen? Was that one of the times you were away from Amber when I was young? Did you take it from Corwin, or did he abandon it? I've heard stories that sound like he tried to create a Pattern here. It was never something we talked about over family dinner, was it? Maybe things should change in that regard." Fletcher has maintained his forwarded pace, and seems at least momentarily energized by what he's saying. "Random said my first loyalty was to you. What exactly does that mean given all of this? Should I feel responsible for Avalon the way I do for Amber? You wonder about your place in my understanding of cosmology? How can I truly know when you keep so many secrets? You're still my father. That cannot change, though Amber may fall. But what does that mean to you? You were never the most 'hands-on' dad. I grew up in Grandad's court; became one of his Knights of the Unicorn. What I learned was from him and from mom, who I realize now was firmly in his camp." Fletcher reflects on the extent to which he's grown since then, to even think of Princess Emerald and Oberon as being in 'camp' rather than simply 'in the right'. His walk continues and though the sparks and light may burn his eyes, his will burns back just as bright, incandescent in his anger and the realization that everything has changed and nothing has changed.
Fletcher pushes through the final veil and arrives at the center of the pattern. It's too dim and too far to see if his father is still by the door, and his eyes will take a moment to adjust to the darkness now that the resistance is stopped.
Fletcher falls to one knee, leaning on his scabbard in the center of the Pattern. What shall he do next? A nap seems like the best option, which of course means there must be something he's promised he'd do for someone. He recalls the message he's supposed to deliver in Xanadu. X marks the spot. He pictures his room in Xanadu, and wills the Pattern to take him there.
In Xanadu Fletcher takes the time to change into a fresh shirt and tie before slinging his scabbard over his shoulder and heading down to the throne room.
Fletcher walks in to the throne room, his sword and scabbard slung over his shoulder and a leather document case in his hand.
He approaches Random and Gerard and bows. "Your Majesty, Your Highness, greetings from my father's court. I bear a message for you." He holds out the document, willing to hand it to either King or Regent. "How fairs Xanadu? I'd heard there was to be a meeting of the royal family." He looks around, noting the lack of a horde of family members, and wonders if they've all wandered off to the dining room.
Gerard holds out his hand for the note.
Random nods. "Yeah, that sorta got cancelled because the agenda needed revising. Thanks for coming anyway. We do have breakfast, though. I think there's some bacon waffle-tacos left, somehow."
Gerard hands the note to Random, who glances at it briefly, and then puts it down on the arm of the throne. "Xanadu fares better today than yesterday. How's your old man?"
Fletcher valiantly resists to urge to immediately sally forth against bacon abominations and replies with a straight face. "He stands, as always, rock-bottomed and copper-sheathed, one and indivisible. There are however one or two things in Avalon which require his attention right now. What of the Moonriders and my cousins? Has peace and harmony broken out all over? If they're needed I know the Knights of the Unicorn are currently split between here and Amber, though I'm hoping we don't have to worry about another Moonrider attack. Who's still here in in Xanadu?"
Random takes a bite of a bacon-waffle taco. "Oh, you know, some of us. Me. Corwin, Fiona, Gerard. Your cousins Folly, Hannah, and Solange. Two tables of bridge, if we had a duplicate set."
"...Or one ska band, if we had three horns and a hat," Folly adds with a grin as she enters. "Welcome, Fletcher, it's good to see you," she says with a nod, and comes to stand next to Random. "We think we might be at the point of calling at least some of our kin to update them on the situation here, and find out how they fare in their various endeavors. Unless there's other news that requires immediate action?"
Fletcher smiles. "Folly! No, I guess with the Moonriders all run off there's nothing pressing. Where did everyone scatter to this time?"
Random snickers. "Anywhere that wasn't here, apparently. I think Llewella had to wash her hair."
Signy comes in behind the other two, tucking a small bag into a pouch on her belt.
She gives Fletcher a brief smile and nod, though she also seems to be keeping well away from the King.
"We do have three horns and a hat. Should be in a crate marked 'Preparation H' in the room you were just in. I'm surprised you didn't bring it out with you." Random arches an eyebrow at Folly.
"Other than the ongoing taco crisis, which goes onto the album-or-band-name list, we managed not to grow any new disasters since you went to the back room ten minutes ago. I consider this a period of stability and calm in the midst of my reign."
Random looks around. "Cards on the table, family. Literally. Well, not literally, becuase we don't have a table. But let's get back in touch with people. Try not to all choose 'Caine' first. Anyone who wants to come in from the cold can do so, but let's not empty out all of shadow..."
Folly says, "I would like to start by calling Martin -- and I should probably rejoin Hannah while I do it, so that she can have news of Edan if I get through. Knowing their status may give us some clues as to what to do next here."
Folly looks around at the assembled family. "If our highest priority is the Moonrider situation, next on the list is Vere, whose card I think is being retrieved from the trump booth, and who can give an update on our volunteer hostage." She looks at Random. "You probably need to be involved in that call to figure out whether the time is right to bring her here."
Folly turns to Signy. "Then there's Brennan, since you just expressed a concern about that knight who was traveling with him." To the room at large, she says, "Then there's the other monarchs. Celina, for whom I have a card that's never been tested. Corwin and Benedict, for whom I don't have a card." To Fiona, she adds, "And it might be good to touch base with your brother."
She look around to the room at large. "Have I missed anyone on the highest-priority list? Besides Caine?"
Fiona is already fanning a deck of cards and handing several to Gerard. It looks like he gets Caine and Julian as well Jerod. She wanders off to a quiet alcove to make her calls.
As Fiona turns to go, Folly tells her, "When you're done, Hannah is hoping you can join her to inspect the magic circle thing. She wants to look at it from the spirit realm and thought you'd be a good anchor on this side."
Fiona nods.
That done, she waits to check whether Brennan and Celina's trumps are available among the trump booth cards -- if not, she loans hers out to whomever needs them -- then heads off to re-join Hannah.
"I'll take Vere." says Random, "and then Plan B and Plan C."
"Give him our best," says Corvis.
Assuming that nobody objects, Signy collects the Trumps for Celina (and Merlin) and Brennan, and steps to the side.
Fletcher picks up some cards, and pauses, looking over to Fiona. "If there's a magic circle causing trouble nearby, I'd like to take a look at it too," he says. "Perhaps I can join you and Hannah after this?"
Fiona raises her eyebrows. "Of course. I'd be very interested in your opinion of it. Especially anything that it might be similar to that you've come across before."
Last modified: 15 July 2020