Vere purses his lips thoughtfully as they begin to ride. After they are a few shadows away he says, "To be certain, cousin, can you determine if these are indeed our horses, not fae things? And that they are neither possessed nor cursed?"
"I saw no sorcery or other influence on them when I looked at them with my Third Eye before we mounted," Merlin says. "Why? Have you seen some sign of influence that I missed, cousin?" He looks vaguely alarmed, as if he were ready to leap off the horse immediately and do--something.
Vere shakes his head and smiles. "No, I have not seen anything, Cousin. I merely bethought me of various legends I have heard of such fae folk, and their habits of impersonating or bewitching steeds. So I thought it best to check with you on the matter."
They ride on for several hours. Vere allows Merlin to do the shifting at first, until his cousin is certain they are away from any shadows that might be tainted in a similar fashion to the one they had recently left. Then he asks to take on the task of shifting, to increase his practice with the skill.
For a while he keeps them on a road through a lightly forested area, playing with changing the types of trees and plants around them, simple growing more accustomed to shifting shadow. Then he gradually changes the nature of the road, from a rough forest path to a well used country road, with a hedge border and pleasant meadowland around them. A few farmhouses dot the distance, and then they make a turn and a small village is ahead of them. Vere nods to a small public house with a sign showing a bird house painted a bright scarlet. "Shall we break our fast, Cousin?" he asks. "We have things to discuss before we reach Ygg, and I would fain discuss them over ale and meat."
"We have expended a great deal of energy in dealing with the satyrs and the lich king, yes," Merlin agrees. "It is time to refresh ourselves, and perhaps even to rest afterwards. But first, we must eat."
It's extremely convenient that the public house has a place to tie horses. Merlin dismounts and fixes his reins to the hitching post carefully, waiting for Vere to do the same before entering the building.
Vere dismounts and loops the reins around the post, while gazing about him, getting a feel for the village and its inhabitants. Then, with a final pat to the side of the animal's head and a low murmur to it he steps onto the porch and follows Merlin into the building. Once inside he chooses an empty table in a corner, where he and Merlin can both sit with their backs to the wall.
Merlin, who seems aware he's out of place here, looks to Vere for social cues and defers to his leadership in finding a place to sit. A serving woman comes to bring them ale and offer them the best of the house's admittedly limited menu. A few minutes later, they are enjoying, if such can be the term, a trencher of stew that's surprisingly meaty and hearty, if rather bland. The town must be enjoying a prosperous year so far.
"There was a conversation you wished to continue, I believe?" Merlin prompts Vere once they've been left alone to eat.
"Indeed," Vere says. "I have been carefully considering your offer to teach me Sorcery, and weighing the pros and cons of focusing upon that rather than Shapeshifting." As he talks he tears a sheet of paper from the back of his journal and writes on one side, then turns it over and writes on the other.
"My main concern," he continues, "Is that shapeshifting still seems to me to be the best chance of repairing Father's legs. And that must be my main focus, whatever my personal inclinations may be."
Vere folds the paper and takes a piece of string from a pocket, and ties the paper onto the ocarina.
"Bide a moment," he tells Merlin. He glances around, making certain no one is paying any particular attention to them. Then he takes the trump of Ranger Post 9 that Brita gave him, and concentrates upon it. Once the location becomes real, he tosses the ocarina through the connection, then turns the card face down and looks up at Merlin.
"Tell me," he asks. "Do you think Sorcery could be used to heal Father, and if so, how?"
"I do not know enough about his injury to say, nor enough about how to use various principles in healing to do more than speculate in that direction." Merlin frowns. "If his injuries were going to heal themselves over time, it would have already happened. Perhaps an advanced enough application of temporal sorcery could take his body back to the condition of the time at which it was injured, and then some other form of healing could be applied?"
Vere's eyes narrow thoughtfully. "Taking the body back in time," he muses, "That sounds promising. Have you heard of such things being done before?"
Merlin says nooooooo but the words come out as: "Sorcerous applications at the level of proficiency and power necessary to reverse temporal passage and maintain it through a second sorcery at a similar level are not regular occurrences. We speak of art, not science, cousin. There are not so many sorcerers that we can be said to have tested the full range of our possibilities." He pauses for a moment, frowning, then asks, "Have you considered the negative outcomes of such an attempt?"
Vere tilts his head slightly to one side, the focus of his eyes shifting to somewhere behind and above Merlin's left shoulder. "Dozens of possible scenarios come to mind," he says, "Ranging from the purely physical to the catastrophically metaphysical. I lack sufficient knowledge to apprehend the relative probabilities of any of them."
"Other than the negative consequences of returning your father to a gravely injured state that nearly killed him, so do I," Merlin replies. "Much would depend, also, on the sort of healing chosen to repair the damage at that time. Do you, then, have an alternate plan for achieving that healing? How it could be done in a way that would withstand all tests?"
"I am still feeling my way through the possibilities," Vere answers. "Any theories I formed at this point would be from a position of gravest ignorance, and would be more of a hindrance to developing a correct understanding than an aid. What I need now is to determine the relative probabilities that studying Sorcery or Shapeshifting would lead to his healing. You know both, which is why I am seeking your advice."
Merlin shakes his head. "I know Shapeshifting and I know Sorcery. I can argue reasons for and against either choice, depending on the methods and the exact wording of the goal. But I also know enough of probabilities to remember that a grandson of Oberon moves them at his will."
"I still have trouble with that concept," Vere admits. "I seek to understand what is possible, and what is probable, and no doubt block my own ability to shape events by trying to analyze them too minutely beforehand." He is silent a moment, contemplating this. Finally he says, "My understanding is that Sorcery and Pattern do not work well together, so how can the power of our blood affect the likelihood of success with Sorcery?"
Merlin shakes his head. "You wish to make rules, and by following the rules, achieve your goals. Yes, there are rules. Pattern conquers the paradox of Sorcery, true. But Bleys uses a Pattern blade a as a spell focus, and I have done the same with my father's sword. This is the difference between a man like my father or Random, or even Bleys, and one of us. Do you understand what I am saying, Vere?"
Vere considers the question carefully for several seconds before answering seriously, "No. I could conjecture upon possible meanings, and possibly one of my conjectures would approach what you intend to convery, but in all honesty I am not certain what difference you are intending to bring to my attention."
"If you wish to find an answer within your rules, if you wish to find a guarantee," Merlin says, frustration evident in his voice, "you will look forever. There were no guarantees when my father scribed his Pattern. He did the thing that he thought best and bent the universe to his will. To be a true sorcerer, to heal your father's wounds, break the rules, Vere."
Vere regards Merlin silently for a long interval, then nods his head decisively. "I will never understand that until I learn Sorcery," he says in a determined voice. "And thus, I shall learn Sorcery, so that I may understand it." He steeples his fingers together, and bows his head slightly to Merlin. "Cousin," he says formally. "Will you undertake to teach me?"
"I will undertake to teach you. We will see whether you are of the right temperament to learn," Merlin replies. Vere suspects Merlin is uncertain of the answer to this question. "If you are not, it is no discredit to you. I was aware of your ordered habits of mind before I agreed to take you on as a student of shapeshifting."
Merlin draws out his cards, and deals a hand of three face down between Vere and himself. His face composes into something more formal, and his tone takes on a serious, almost ceremonial cast, as if his words are a ritual. "What is the universe, Vere? And how do you know it?"
"I have heard many definitions, Cousin," Vere answers. "What I would have said before I walked the Pattern is very different from what I would say now." He pauses, then continues, "Now, I would say that the universe is the set of all locations to which I could, given sufficient time and will, travel." He shrugs, "As to how I know this, surely it is a matter of definition?"
Merlin frowns. "First principles, Vere. A matter of what kind of definition? How do you achieve the definition? Do you believe, as the shadow philosophers do, that the Unicorn would not permit your senses to lie to you? Chaos, by definition, cannot be defined. Is it part of your universe?"
Vere frowns back. "Perhaps it cannot be fully defined, but elements of it can be described within certain parameters. Else there would be no effective difference between Madoc, Clarissa, or Aisling. There are differences, and recognizable characteristics, that differentiate between individual elements of Chaos. And differentiation is an important part of definition."
A shake of the head accompanies Merlin's second frown. "Have you met any of them but Aisling? Clarissa has learned how to wear a human face better than any of Chaos except my mother, and she is more alien than you can imagine. If you think because you have seen a being that lets its skin change color and wears streamers on her back that you truly understand the differences between Chaos and Order, your education has been sadly neglected. The Aisling might or might not have survived the trial of the Pattern, but she was almost as Ordered as either of us. She ate like an Ordered being." Merlin shakes his head again, his lips twisting in distaste at something or other about the conversation.
"When you internalize that there is not always differentiation between person and place, when you have seen a Lord of Chaos affinate and consume and perhaps even spawn, then you may begin to understand how limited your parameters are. You wish to describe and differentiate, but you are a blind man describing the color of an elephant based on the sound of its trumpet and the touch of your hand to some random part of its flesh.
"How do you know, Vere?"
Vere listens to Merlin's lecture with silent intensity. At Merlin's question he raises an eyebrow. "Epistemology, Merlin? How do I know what I know, and who is the I that knows? Or are you using the term in a deeper sense, one with which I am unfamiliar?" He shrugs. "I accept some things as true, because they match the experience of my life and my expectations based on those experiences and my own rational analysis of those experiences. I reject the 'brain in a witch's jug' theory.
"And that is the first time I have heard you speak of your own knowledge, instead of requiring external validation for your understanding." Merlin tilts his head, as if observing something about Vere from a different angle. "The universe is a structure of rules, and that which is bounded--_defined_, if you will--by those rules, and that which is not. I know this because I know the rules and I know how to stand outside them."
He flips the three fortunes that he had laid on the table face down before Vere. All three of them are the Usurper.
Vere nods. "The ordered part of me would wonder if you had manipulated the cards, if you had transformed them, or if you had apported them in from somewhere else. But that is the wrong way of looking at it, isn't it? What is important is what you decided you knew to be true."
Merlin nods and sweeps up the cards. "Yes, particularly for this exercise. You have had your first lesson in sorcery. But I tell you now Vere, you are choosing a hard path. Sorcery is satisfying in and of itself, but you wish to learn it for a purpose, yes? If you are to overcome your father's injuries with sorcery, your belief in whatever healing you would do must be both strong enough to heal the injuries itself and to overcome your father's belief that he is permanently crippled. If you cannot find a strength of will to outdo his, you will never succeed in making him whole." His expression, on an Amberite, might be taken for pity.
Vere chuckles quietly. "Will an inhuman and nigh-unlimited stubborness make an acceptable substitute?" He leans forward, "And, I think, it is perhaps not necessary to outdo Father in a contest of wills. No, perhaps it is only necessary to find a way to maneuver him into believing that he can be healed, and use that strength of will of his to aid the task of his healing, rather than resisting it." He raises an eyebrow. "In a way, Sorcery might be seen as a confidence trick played upon the laws of Order, might it not?"
"In some ways, yes," Merlin agrees. "But if your father does not believe, he will not be healed. And he is not stupid, so do not think you can trick him as if he were a child. You will fail if you do, and my sense is that there will be no second chance."
Vere's smile drops and he nods, decisively. "You see that, do you? Not everyone does. Father is straightforward, and many see that as a lack of intelligence. But in some ways I think he is more astute than any of his siblings. I said 'maneuver,' not 'trick.' The distinction is more than equivocation." He shrugs. "But all that must wait until there is even a possibility. Is there a second lesson? Or should I cogitate upon what I have learned so far, while we travel further towards Chaos?"
"I believe you should absorb your first lesson before you are ready to consume another." Merlin nods agreeably. "And when you have considered it, and contemplated which will be your first Principle, we shall begin lessons. Somewhere in the wild lands near Ygg, I think, if not beyond it."
"You are the master," Vere says. "As you have noted, this is all quite new to me, and I will be guided by you." He smiles slightly, and then adds, "Principles. I have heard of these. Am I wrong to be amused by the fact that there are Principles involved in the way one violates Order?"
"Humor is frequently found in the violation of principles of one sort or another," Merlin replies with a completely straight face. "But the principles here are the principles of Order that you wish to learn to violate. Sequence and order, time and stress. Although more correctly, it is 'sequence and order of time and space'."
Vere is silent for a moment, then says, "There is an interesting implication here. That to practice Sorcery, one must understand Order, so as to violate it. Which implies that Sorcery is in reaction to Order, and would not exist in true Chaos." He tilts his head to one side, then continues, "In fact, one might postulate that Sorcery was devised as a way to bring naturally-occurring Chaotic conditions into the Ordered universe, rather than as an Art of Chaos sans Order. Is this correct?"
"Sorcery is Paradox, which requires Order and the ability to violate it. It is possible on the Ordered side of Ygg and, effectively, in certain parts of Chaos. Most of what you would describe as 'sorcery' beyond Ygg is actually the use of the routines of sorcery to manipulate the forces of Chaos directly. There are theoretical differences, but the experiential differences are minimal to the user," Merlin explains.
"It is my suspicion that Sorcery proper cannot be practiced without some inherent Order in the practitioner. I know of no true Sorcerers not of our family line, one way or another. However, I am well aware that my knowledge of both the number of sorcerers and the number of our kin is deficient."
Vere nods. "Indeed," he says. He muses for a moment, then asks, "What of this choice you speak of, my first Principle? What do you see as the reasons for and against the possible choices that are before me?"
Merlin gives Vere a surprised look. "But you already have the information you need. Which aspect of Order troubles you so much that you wish to violate it at will? If it is something obscure, you may wish to reconsider, but it is my expectation that you will know which rules you want to break."
Vere shakes his head. "Perhaps I am still not looking at this correctly, Cousin. The Principles you outline do not correspond easily with the laws of shadow magic as I have studied them, and I think I am still too dependent upon those ways of thinking. Healing Father through shadow magic, for instance, might involve principles of contagion and identity, reasserting the wholeness of the bones as they once were. But this does not exactly match with 'space' or 'stress'."
"Not principles of magic, principles of order." Merlin accompanies this statement with a shake of the head. He elaborates: "Time exists so that everything does not happen at once. If you wish to violate the laws that make time move forward at a consistent rate, you would want to learn about the Principle of Time. Similarly, if you wanted to violate the laws that keep distant things apart and close things nearby, you would want to learn the Principle of Space. These are the two Principles that I find easiest to explain to Ordered people, but of course there are others: Entropy, Integrity, Gravity, Mass and Energy, and so on."
"Ah," Vere says. "Yes. I see. Thus, by violating the Principal of Energy one could devise a spell in which one gained more energy out of it than was put into it, or in which energy was destroyed, rather than converted into a different form. Interesting." He brings his hands together, elbows on the table, and stares into the distance. "The question, then, is whether to begin with a Principal that I can easily understand, so that my training in the basics of Sorcery can proceed quickly, or whether I should immediately decide which Principal would most easily allow me to heal Father through its violation, and begin immediately with that one."
"On that, I can advise you: I am not convinced that any single Principle will enable you to heal your father's injuries. And in any case advancement in Sorcery requires the student to understand different principles, so you will learn more as time passes." In this, Merlin is confident.
Vere nods. "Most wise, Cousin. Let us consider some basic matters. This sorcerous sight that I have heard spoken of, upon which Principal would you say that it is based? It seems a useful ability, and an excellent place to begin."
"It is an adjunct to learning sorcery: a sense for when paradoxical sorcery is occurring, expressed as visual sense because it is our keenest. If you were blind, you would hear sorcery instead," Merlin explains.
Vere nods. "I understand. Does it seem to you that the best place to start might be with a Principal that is associated with something I completely understand? If so, then Space might be the Principal to choose. I have an innate sense of my spatial orientation, and have never truly understood the concept of 'being lost.' What do you think, Cousin?"
"I think that you need to make the decision on your own. As a sorcerer you must demonstrate commitment and the force of your own will, and not look to others for advice," Merlin tells Vere primly. "If you believe Space is best, you should learn it first. I can teach it to you."
Vere nods decisively. "Space it shall be, then, Cousin." He smiles. "Although not seeking advice may be more difficult for me than actually learning Sorcery. Advice is data, and I am always seeking more data, on all topics of interest to me."
Merlin shrugs slightly. "This is a habit you will have to break to master sorcery."
Vere chuckles. "I have never been especially bent on necessarily following the advice, I merely like to seek it. It gives one a different perspective on a situation, and reveals something about the one giving the advice."
When they have finished their meal, during which Merlin is willing to answer some more basic questions about sorcery, Merlin and Vere arrange to rest in one of the upstairs rooms of the public house. Their sleep is undisturbed, thanks in part to some sorcerous precautions that Merlin takes, more to be certain that nobody in this Shadow bothers them than to protect them from anything with Real power.
Vere watches Merlin's use of Sorcery carefully, even if he does not quite understand it yet.
After they wake and take care of any necessary morning business, like a quick breakfast and dressing, they mount and are on their way. "You will need to shift the Shadows today. My father's instructions for riding to Ygg are to ride until the Shadows run wild. Consider this also a part of your sorcerous training: I wish to see how far you can go in that way, and what you will find."
"Indeed," Vere says. They ride from the village, and Vere slowly begins to shift. Small things at first - he decides that there will be a red bird on a branch around a bend in the road, then a ruined tower far out at sea as they come to a rise in the road. For a while they ride along a lonely road near a coast, then the road curves inland and trees rise around them. Changes come more swiftly now, a shift from an oak forest to pine, a cooling of the temperature, the countryside becoming more mountainous. Signs of human habitation fade away, and they are no longer on a road or trail of any kind, but instead riding through sparse woodlands with little underbrush. Then Vere begins reaching for slight oddities - a small winged money flying across a clearing in front of them, a naturally occurring crystalline formation that sings as the breeze blows through it. And then they come to a large cave mouth, and Vere says, "I am minded that our road runs through here, and that the sky will be a different color when we come out the other side." He urges his horse into the darkness.
Merlin rides into the cave in Vere's wake. He has trailed Vere on their passage through shadow, following through each realm as Vere has shifted through them, offering neither praise nor criticism of Vere's work with the Pattern. In the darkness, Vere can hear Merlin's voice, speaking in some language that is neither Thari or anything else Vere knows to his horse in soothing tones. As Vere concentrates on the color of the sky on the far side of the mountain they're riding under, he can sense other changes: the echoes on the stone alter as the composition of the rock metamorphoses and the scent of the still air mutates in his nostrils as it becomes cooler and more arid. Either this is another result of his imposition of Order or Merlin is strengthening his work. After some time of riding, with the sounds and smells and sights changing as they go, Vere sees ahead something that might be light. Soon, they exit the caves onto a dry, rocky desert, where the bottom edges of the twin suns are dropping over the far horizon. The sky here is red, streaked with shades of orange.
"What color is the sky on your planet?" Merlin quips, deadpan, as he knees his horse up into parallel with Vere. "How do you feel? Have you exhausted yourself?"
"No," Vere answers. "Somewhat tired, but nowhere near exhausted." He smiles. "The Spider once said of me that my endurance was nearly as great as my stubbornness. I thanked her for the compliment." He looks at Merlin. "I used the cavern as a marker, a borderland, to move away from shadows similar to the Isles and Amber, to something different. From here, my thought was to begin making far more fanciful changes. To let the shadows 'run wild,' in your father's words." He smiles once more, a small smile, but one that shows him to be clearly amused. "I would ask your advice upon that plan, save that someone has told me that is no way to begin the study of Sorcery."
Vere urges his horse forward, and now begins shifting shadows in earnest. It is not quite hellriding, but it is more extreme than simple shadow walking. He lets his imagination run free, changing the color of the sky as they pass under a rock formation, cresting a hill and seeing the desert give way to a field of flowers that float several inches above the ground, which gradually grow larger as they travel through them, until they are riding beneath enormous petals floating above their heads. The two suns set, but the night is nearly as bright as day, with huge moons and ringed and banded planets shining down through the floating flowers. The chirps of birds and frogs clamour from the plants above them, with stranger cries occasionally ringing down from the night sky. The dryness of the desert gives way to moistness, and a light mist settles around them. Far sooner than should be the case the two suns rise, but from different directions, neither of which is the opposite of the direction in which the went down. The planets and moons fade in the sunlight, but do not disappear completely.
Merlin catches up with him and says that soon it will be time to rest, at least for a while. They have made good progress but even so it will take days of travel at this rate to get to Ygg. Indeed, while Vere could go on for some time, he could stand to eat and sleep, so they do, alternating sleeping with keeping watch.
Vere and Merlin go on for several days, perhaps a week, like this, with the shadows growing stranger and madder as they travel further from Amber and Xanadu and Paris. They encounter strange beings, some of which are pleasant enough but others of which are downright hostile. Merlin, it proves out, is trained in swordsmanship and sorcery.
In the end, since he knows where they are going, Merlin takes charge. At the end of their ride, they apparently partway up a hill, or down a valley, depending on how Vere looks at such things. There is a gnarled, ancient tree nearby. The sky changes color here from time to time. It's bestreaked with different shades as if it were being fingerpainted by an impatient god-child of enormous size. The valley beneath them is covered in a fog that changes color in similar fashion.
"This is Ygg," Merlin says, gesturing at the tree. "Beyond this place. we are in Chaos."
Vere reins in and stares at the tree. "I have heard it is sapient," he says quietly to Merlin. "Is this true?"
"My father says it spoke to him," Merlin replies, equally softly. "But it has not deigned to speak to me." Then he raises his voice to a more normal volume. "Is there anything you wish to do before we pass beyond? Because the rules will be very different henceforth."
Vere shakes his head, still looking at the great tree. "No," he answers, "I am prepared to travel onwards." He urges his horse forward, but stops just shy of Ygg. He studies it intently, from root to crown, seeking the similarities and differences from the trees he has known in the Isles and in Ordered shadows.
The tree is small and gnarled, and despite all the tree-lore Vere has learned over his years of study, despite knowing the tree-alphabet and many other secrets, this is nothing like any tree he has ever seen. Except for one, which is the tree in the chamber of the Pattern beneath Notre Dame in Paris.
Vere studies it carefully, then shakes his head. "You are Yourself, and unique," he says quietly. "Trying to compare You to anything else is a useless task." He bows his head slightly towards the tree, then turns his horse's head back towards Merlin.
While Vere examines Ygg, Merlin takes some time to do something that Vere doesn't recognize, exactly. He waits until Vere looks up to speak. "I am summoning a filmy."
"A filmy," Vere repeats. "Is this summoning a thing of Chaos, or a practice of Sorcery that I might learn?"
"I think of it as a basic sorcery, but it is closer to a manipulation of raw Chaos than a true act of paradox. All objects in Chaos are also beings in their own way. Filmies are object-beings that one can use to move from place to place, such as places are on the chaotic side of the tree." Merlin smiles. "Unless you have some objection, I would like to take you to meet our kinsman, Madoc, who was my teacher."
"Madoc," Vere repeats. "He was Aisling's father, correct? I shall be pleased to meet him. You will instruct me on Chaosian etiquette, and what topics I should not discuss and what questions I should not ask?"
Merlin nods. "If you are mannerly after the Amber fashion, it should suffice. I would avoid asking about the Aisling, but that is simply caution on my part. There are a few things you should remember. For instance, Madoc, like any citadel of Chaos, will not have stable symmetries: if you turn back in a hall you may not return to the place where you came from. That was one of the hardest things to get used to when I first ventured to the Orderly side of Ygg."
Vere nods, thoughtfully. "That shall prove interesting, and no doubt especially disorienting to one such as myself, who is so attuned to his position in space. I assume then, that one finds ones way around in chaos by concentrating on the destination one has in mind? And, depending on one's will, one will then find it, unless the location itself wills one to go somewhere else?"
"That is the brute force way, yes. If you know the route and the signs, you do not have to use force of will or magic." Merlin says this as if the idea of force used in this way is a little crude.
"That implies that there is some form of consistency to said route and signs, even in Chaos," Vere replies. "Or am I misunderstanding?"
"You are understanding correctly, for the citadels where you will be staying. Further in has different rules," Merlin explains.
Something that looks like a wispy roadway drifts toward Merlin from the chaotic side of the universe. "Our ride is arriving," Merlin says. "Let us be on our way." He seems to be prepared to lead his horse rather than mounting up.
Vere dismounts as well, and watches the approaching object with interest.
When it does arrive, Vere can see that it, presumably the filmy, is a thin, almost translucent ribbon of darkness, wide enough for Merlin and the horse to stand on together but probably not so wide that Vere can stand next to him. Vere's horse doesn't seem to like the filmy very much, and Merlin's doesn't either at a guess. Neither of them is afraid enough, or badly disciplined enough, to bolt, though.
"We step on board, like this," Merlin says, demonstrating.
Vere coaxes his horse to follow him as he steps onto the filmy behind Merlin. He taps it with his foot, judging its solidity. "Does the summoner have sole control of a filmy, or do those who ride upon it with her also have the ability to control where it goes?" he asks. "And I take it that it can travel not only within a shadow, but between them." He cocks his head to one side. "Or does the concept of 'shadows' not mean as much in Chaos, where things are less static than in the Ordered side of the universe?"
It feels solid to Vere, if a little--springy? As if he the horses, are weighing the filmy down a little, but it would bounce right back into its proper shape if he were to step off.
"The corresponding concept is the realm of a Chaos lord, but the borders are subtle and inobvious to those from the Orderly side of Ygg. And in this case, I will have sole control of the filmy. It would be possible to give you control, if you were a sorcerer, or for us to contest over it, but you do not yet have the skills to do so," Merlin explains. "You might attempt to control it with Order, but that would go ill for the poor filmy."
Vere smiles. "I have the impression that I should refrain from using the Pattern while we are in Chaos, save in a true emergency. Is that a correct assumption?"
Merlin's brows rise slightly. "You are beyond Ygg now, Vere. Use of the Pattern will attract attention, most of it of a sort that you would not want. I did not bring you here simply because it will be easier for you to learn how to use Sorcery here. Different rules apply, and the bad habits--bad for a Sorcerer--that you have learned as a Prince of Amber will be easier to unlearn here. In short, yes, do not use Pattern, unless you have to."
"As I thought, Cousin. I look forward to learning how to summon these filmies when you feel I am ready." Vere cocks his head to one side, then says musingly, "I almost asked if they were possessed of any sort of intelligence, before recalling what you have already said. The distinction between being, object, and place is not so strong here as on the other side of Ygg."
"You are beginning to understand the ways of thinking of a Sorcerer, although it will never be your native idiom, just as Order will never truly be mine. If you can learn enough to master the basics of Sorcery, it will be enough for me," Merlin says, phlegmatic in his contemplation of the difficulties.
Vere nods thoughtfully.
It takes some time--Vere is not sure how long, but temporal order may be a tricky thing in their current location, such as it is--for Merlin to guide them to what he explains is the edge of Madoc. "To the extent that there is a difference between the person and the place, this is the beginning of the county. Clarissa's queendom is much larger, but so is she."
He seems to be waiting for some kind of signal to approach further.
"Were we within a Lord of Chaos before, on the trip from Ygg to here?" Vere asks his cousin. "Or are there areas of Chaos that are unclaimed?"
"We are on the fringes of Chaos, as it were. This is the border between what is Madoc and what is not. Some of the rest may be claimed, but not by anything that is likely to threaten us. The real powers of Chaos find territory this close to Ygg too tainted by Order to be worth consuming." Merlin waves at the area around them with an open hand as if dismissing it from the point of view of his maternal Chaotic relatives.
Whatever signal Merlin appears to be waiting for happens, on some level that Vere cannot detect. The filmy moves forward again, on toward something that is now visible in the distance. It's too far at the moment for Vere to make out.
Vere watches it as they approach, but not to the exclusion of casting occasional watchful glances around him in all other directions, as well. He's also considering the internal sense of "where I am" that has never failed him before, and comparing it to the directions and speed of their apparent travel.
It's rapidly apparent to Vere that his bump of direction cannot be relied on in the same way here, although it does seem to stabilize somewhat inside the borders of Madoc's realm.
"I will warn you again about stable symmetries. Including verticality," Merlin says, as if repeating a lesson he expects to have to pound into Vere's head.
Vere nods. "I will recall that, intellectually," he says. "Although I suspect that it will take experience to make me truly appreciate this fact. It runs counter to a lifetime of experience, and merely telling myself that things will be different here is unlikely to be sufficient."
"That is my experience of Ordered beings in Chaos," Merlin agrees with something that might be testiness, although it doesn't seem to be aimed personally at Vere.
The castle is coming closer and closer. Vere thinks that it may be approaching them as much as they are approaching it. The building is not built vertical to the ground, but seems to have multiple vertical axes, not all of which are perpendicular to each other or Vere's sense of the ground. There is no single architectural style Vere can identify, but feature from different Shadows and styles, not all of which are familiar to him.
[Think: Howl's Moving Castle as designed by M.C. Escher.]
Vere's really not sure how his bump of direction will serve him in that building, especially if it doesn't have stable symmetries.
"Fascinating," he says, watching the castle approach. "Does Madoc know I am with you, Cousin?"
"We are, in some metaphysical sense, inside Madoc already. I am an Ordered being, as you are, although somewhat less so. Madoc is, after the Chaotic fashion, both person and place interchangeably. So although he may not know who you are, he knows that another Ordered being is with me," Merlin explains. "And he knows that you are not, say, Martin, with whom he is acquainted. I will tell him who you are when he presents himself in his person."
Vere shakes his head in annoyance. "And I should have known that," he says, not allowing the annoyance at himself to show in his voice. "You have said it repeatedly. As I said, intellectual knowledge and emotional comprehension are different things."
On a balcony that looks like it ought to dump its inhabitants off to the ground, Vere can see what appear to be two small figures. How large they are depends on the scale of the castle and the distance, neither of which Vere is entirely sure of.
"Size," he asks Merlin musingly, "Is size in Chaos related to relative power, or not? Or is it more complicated than that?" His lips quirk up in a quick smile. "As I expect it is."
"It can be. The size of a realm like Madoc is related to the power put into it, as it were. But Madoc might also choose to concentrate his power in another aspect, or bind much of it into a small form." Merlin speaks more slowly, as if he's having to concentrate on the explanation, or maybe the filmy, or both. "I believe that is the offspring of the Aisling with Madoc," Merlin adds. Maybe he's looking at them and that's what is taking up so much of his attention.
"Interesting," Vere responds. Seeing Merlin's apparent distraction he ceased asking questions, and continues to observe. He narrows his eyes, considering what he has been told about Sorcerous Sight, and endeavours to perceive beyond the merely physical.
Vere attempts to see without sight, looking for what is there only to the initiated. It's odd, like concentrating on the afterimage when a bright light has been taken away.
The image fades, and Vere is left unsure if he has seen something real or merely the insides of his eyelids.
Merlin looks over. "Has your third eye been opened, cousin?"
Vere frowns thoughtfully. "I am unsure, Cousin. I might be imagining it merely through my desire to see something. It is like the image left when you look upon the sun, then close your eyes. Not light, so much as the impression of an energy less constrained than light."
"Then it has not been opened. I will do this for you as part of your lessons."
The castle and the filmy continue to approach each other, and finally Merlin calls out to the people on the balcony. "Hail, kinsman. I have returned, as I once promised, and with me, I bring Vere, of our Ordered kinsmen."
The man, who bears some inhuman resemblance to the rest of the redheads, has small goatlike horns poking through his auburn hair. "Hail, Merlin, and hail Vere." He does not yet declare the visitors to his realm well-met.
Vere incines his head to the man he assumes to be Madoc.
"I remember you," the girl with him says. She could be looking at either Vere or Merlin. She is not known to Vere, or at least he doesn't recall meeting her. Her skin is pale purple, and her hair a reddish brown. But she is not Aisling. "You knew my mother, didn't you?"
"I met Aisling in Amber," Vere replies. "We talked of many things."
"Yes, with the man with the teacup legs," Saeth says. "He asked her why she thought Oberon had spared her. I recall this. He was pleasant. I hope he did not die." Her tone is academic, and somewhat removed from the situation. "I am Saeth."
Madoc is watching this interplay with some interest. His horns are twitching forward a little.
"My father," Vere says, with a nod. "Yes, he still lives. I thank you for the concern. I am pleased to meet you, Saeth."
"And I am pleased to meet you," Saeth says politely. She sounds similar to her mother; the idea that this is Aisling's child makes intuitive sense to Vere, for all that he has certainly heard by now how she was created.
The horns on the top of Madoc's head have settled slightly, although they are still tilted forward. "Vere and Merlin, be welcome in my county. Merlin, does Clarissa know you are here?"
"If she does," Merlin answers, "it is not because I have told her of my coming. I did not see any of her grackleflints on my way."
"Perhaps you have been lucky and your journey has gone unnoted." Madoc sounds amused. "Come in, lest we be proven wrong."
Two servitors appear from nowehere, as if they had grown out of the ground, and move close up to the filmy, as if to take the horses. Merlin offers his reins to the creature, which Vere would characterize as some form of fae creature, not entirely symmetrical and not entirely pretty, either. "Please do not eat our horses," Merlin tells the affine. "We will want them later, and in the same form."
The affine takes the reins from Merlin as the other one moves to obtain them from Vere.
[They look something like Dobby in the Harry Potter movies, only not cute. More like, fangs and claws.]
"Have you met my sister, Vere?" Madoc asks.
"I have not, Lord Madoc," Vere replies. He offers the reins of his mount to the creature sent to take them. "I have heard some speak of her, and from what I have heard it strikes me that she cannot adequately be described, but must be experienced."
Madoc's horns twitch again as he smiles, clearly amused by Vere's turn of phrase. "Indeed, Clarissa is quite the experience. And a single description rarely suffices for any lord of chaos, much less one of her caliber." He matches his motions to his previous suggestion, opening a seamless gap in the balcony on which he and Saeth are standing.
Whatever sorcerous means Merlin is using to control the filmy seem to have passed to Madoc, because when the filmy moves to bring Merlin and Vere to join Saeth and Madoc, Merlin looks momentarily surprised. The horses are left below with the affines.
Merlin steps through the gap in the wall, seemingly unbothered by the approximately 90-degree change in the vertical axis of his world as he does so. His feet land solidly on the stone of the balcony. To Vere's eyes, the three Chaosi standing there are lying down in midair, for all that gravity seems to work differently for them.
Like taking his first breath underwater, Vere mentally tells himself, and he steps from the filmy through the gap, doing his best to turn his body to match the change in expected gravity as he does so.
"Worry not, Vere, I have had many ordered guests in my demesne. I have yet to drop one accidentally."
Vere's step takes him through the change successfully, and he stands with Saeth, Madoc, and Merlin.
"I don't know why my sister has withdrawn her Grackleflints, unless it has to do with the ordered people moving near here." He pauses and his horns move forward. "Restraint is not her style, though."
"Ordered people?" Vere inquires. "Who are these ordered people of whom you speak, Lord Madoc?"
"They were at the funeral at the end of the world, where she almost died," replies Saeth.
"Moonriders?", Merlin asks, sharply.
Madoc nods and his horns point further out than before.
"I have read of and heard tales of the Moonriders," Vere says. "But I have never encountered them." His expression invites elaboration, but he politely does not verbally request it.
"Miserable Ordered creatures," Madoc says disapprovingly. "They make your fathers' family seem positively spontaneous. I once heard two of your uncles discussing how to beat them. Brand's plan, if I recall correctly, involved purposefully allowing them to throw him back in time, then waiting until the exact time of the fight and showing up, aiding himself and winning the day. If one Brand wasn't enough, four, eight, or sixteen might carry the day.
"Bleys described it as an extremely long loop temporal fugue state and thought that infinite Brands might be too much of a good thing."
"Let us sincerely hope that he did not execute this plan," says Merlin.
"Indeed," Vere says. "I can see the concerns that occur from the mere fact that this plan was even seriously put forth." He tilts his head to one side, then continues. "Might I inquire if anything is know of the reasons for the Moonriders movements?"
"If I recall correctly, Cousin, Bleys and Brennan reported seeing them returning from the funeral. I was informed that they were talking of returning to Tir na'Nogth. I believe that had killed a number of grackleflints."
Madoc looks at Saeth, then back at the Ordered people. "Perhaps they now flee your Aunt Clarissa's wrath, Merlin."
Merlin nods at the possibility. "A possibility," he admits. "Still, I expect that they have multiple motives."
Vere smiles slightly at that. "Multiplicity of motives would be a trait not exclusive to the Moonriders, I think," he observes.
Saeth smiles, an almost mechanical reproduction of Vere's smile. "I would agree. Does it apply to you as well? What motives bring you so far from Order? Is it fear or hope of gain that take you so far from Amber?"
"Many motives," Vere agrees with a nod. "I do not think fear is among them, although it is sometimes difficult to determine if it is a motivator, when one is trained to disregard it as a motive for one's actions. Hope of gain, in that I hope to learn, and learning is always a gain, and I hope to do much for those I hold most dear, which is also a gain." He nods again. "On a less lofty level, through the learning I hope to do and the skills I hope to master, I will become more powerful, which will make me and mine safer, and increase my prestige," his smile grows slightly wider for an instant, "Which may not, but will be interesting, none the less."
Madoc laughs. "Well said, young one, well said. There is many a hoary Lord of Chaos with a host of affines who could not phrase it so well, yet practices the same daily.
"May I offer you refreshment after your journey? We can produce the Ordered kind."
Merlin looks to Vere.
"Do stay a bit," adds Saeth. "You can meet our other Ordered visitor."
Vere looks at Merlin to be sure he has no objection, then answers, "I should be pleased and honoured to accept your hospitality. This is my first visit to Chaos, and I am eager to learn more of it. Please forgive me should I offend through ignorance."
Madoc laughs, his horns moving towards Vere. "My little keep on the bordermarch is far from the glittering pearl of cities and likewise the great chaos lords. For all that I am undisputed Lord here, I do not wish to entangle myself in either direction by taking offense unnecessarily."
Part of the wall becomes a doorway, or is a doorway that used to be part of a wall. "Come, my guests."
He leads the way through the now-doorway and into a room, mostly at right angles to the door, but looking back feels ... odd.
A man stands in the room. Dense and hugely muscled, he has the look of a man who works with his hand. "Count Madoc, I did not know you were expecting company." He turns to Vere and Merlin and bows. "I am Weyland, a smith by trade."
Vere returnes the bow. "I have heard your name, Smith, and rumors of your skill. I am honoured to meet you. I am Vere, son of Gerard of Amber and the Lady of the Isles. A student of many things, but not yet a Master of any."
Weyland walks over towards him. "I know your father. If a master is a man who is no longer a student, then I will never be one, for I am always learning. Alas, one is known for what one has done, not what one wishes to have done."
"Or perceived to have done," adds Madoc, looking from Weyland to Saeth and back.
"Or perceived to have done," replied Weyland with a nod. "In some shadows Weyland the Smith legendarily was captured and lamed by a king, and slowly murdered each of his children, creating goblets from their skulls as gifts. If you meet my shadow, remember I am not that Weyland. I don't have that kind of patience."
Weyland and Madoc laugh, and a moment later Saeth joins in. It's not clear if she gets the joke.
Vere smiles slightly and nods. "I shall remember this." He tilts his head to one side. "In the Isles, we have ancient legends of Volund Smith. Some say he knew Danu before she led our people to the Isles."
Weyland nods, gravely. "Gods and Goddesses," he says, turning his head to include everyone in the conversation, "are immensely powerful. They may seem, to a shadow being, to be immortal, all-powerful creators controlling every aspect of existence. When a shadow falls, they may become refugees like any other shadow-dweller, if they're lucky.
"Like anyone else, they do not know of shadow or light unless they learn it from those who walk in it. If a Goddess and her people were to move between shadows, then a child of the line of Dworkin Barimen was involved."
Madoc snorts. "If a shadow was destroyed, it's likely that a child of that line was involved, too."
"Indeed, Lord Madoc?" Vere asks. "I would have thought that Lords of Chaos would be strong enough to do such a thing. Am I mistaken in that?"
Madoc's horns flatten back and quickly return. He turns to Weyland. "Our guests may have further needs. I will join you again when we dine." He steps into a different wall and is gone.
Saeth smiles, awkwardly.
Vere raises an eyebrow. "Was I unintentionally rude?" he inquires. He tilts his head to one side. "Considering my words, I can see that I may have phrased that question badly. I do regret any offense I may have caused."
"Was it unintentional, Lord Vere?" replies Weyland. "Not that he wasn't rude first. It is his demesne, though, and he was more subtle."
Merlin looks at the wall and then back to Vere. "To be a Lord of Chaos is to be a Lord to a lesser Chaosian. All Chaosians will style themselves Lord, but to be accepted as such, one must have affines. That is the single common social distinction amongst the people I grew up with. Rank beyond that, such as Queen, Duke, or Count," he says, nodding towards the wall that recently closed, "is a matter of self-assignment and acceptance. Many Chaosians want no more title than Lord."
"Especially the more inhuman ones," interrupts Weyland.
Merlin nods and continues. "You asked Count Madoc about his power over shadow, which he was taught, as I was, was a power that came from Dworkin's treason. When he made Fixity, he deprived the Lords of Chaos of their true, near-omnipotent selves and created a thing that they cannot affect."
Weyland laughs. "In short, you rubbed salt in a generations-old wound. Madoc was educated to despise the reality that created and supports him."
Merlin smiles. "Yes, if he was educated as I was, that would be what he would have learned, and he is two generations older than I am."
"Fixity," Vere repeats. "An interesting term, and one I have not heard before. There is a certain perjorative cast to it that I think says a great deal." He smiles slightly. "It seems to me that those in Chaos, with their antagonism to Order, have educated their scions regarding it in more depth than those of Dworkin's line have done. Perhaps I shall find that my time in Chaos will teach me as much about Order as it does about Chaos."
"What you call 'Chaos' is considered freedom here. Perspective that respects both states is rare, Lord Vere," Saeth speeks timidly, as if she is unsure how much of her father's dealings to discuss. "The line of Lintra is one of the few that considers dealing with Fixity. Most ignore it."
She pauses. "Oberon did not."
Vere nods. "So we of Order are considered to be..." he lifts an eyebrow. "Uncouth? Deviant? Heretical? I am not sure exactly how we are viewed, other than that it is not positive."
"You should not expect a uniformity of view from beings from the Courts of Chaos," Merlin points out. "But to the extent that I have communicated with lords from outside our relations, I understand that our ties to order are viewed with suspicion."
He glances at Saeth, who dutifully produces a term for him and Vere: "The Ordered Taint."
Weyland is nodding along with their description.
Vere smiles slightly at this phrase, then jumps back to a previous place in the conversation. "You said that Oberon did not ignore Fixity," he says. "I am confused by that. I would have thought that being the offspring of Dworkin would have automatically meant that he had a strong tie to Fixity. But that statement implies that he could have ignored it, had he chosen to do so. Am I misunderstanding something about the relationship between Dworkin and Oberon?"
"Our grandfather could also be described as a Lord of Chaos," Merlin reminds Vere.
Vere nods.
Saeth shakes her head in the negative. Vere feels that this is a learned behavior for Saeth and not an organic one. "Oberon, like our guest Weyland Smith, was one of the few scions of Fixity that dealt with us."
Weyland nods his agreement. "Until Clarissa's children learned enough of their heritage to pass Ygg, there were very few who dared to deal with even the most Orderly Lords of Chaos."
Vere regards Weyland with renewed interest. "You are one of our close relatives, then, my lord?" he asks. "Would it be rude to inquire into our connection?"
Weyland shakes his head. "You may inquire, but I doubt you know any of the ancestral connections, other than the root of the family tree. Cousin is close enough, or perhaps Uncle." Vere feels that the latter is some assessment either on him or on all the remaining cousins in the room. "I understand Signy went on to Amber, or what's left of it. Is she well?"
"I saw her only briefly, Uncle, and did not speak with her. She appeared well, and was in company with her brother, Marius." He considers briefly, recalling the events of the funeral and the family meeting, then continues, "From what I saw she has been accepted as and is being treated as a member of the Family. I do not believe I had heard that there was a connection with yourself, however. Do I take it that she is your daughter?"
"She is, for all that she might wish otherwise. It's good that her decision to follow in her mother's footsteps seems to be working out for her." White teeth flash in an amused grin. "And what brings you to the demesne of Count Madoc, nephew-cousins? You--" he gestures at Vere "--at least are a long way from home."
Saeth is watching the conversation, drinking in all the information with large eyes. She has conjured, or summoned, depending on one's point of view, a stool, and has settled on it while her kinsfolk speak.
"As Cousin Saeth mentioned," Vere nods towards her with a slight smile, "My father was badly injured, and is not recovering. I am seeking ways to heal him, and Prince Merlin was kind enough to offer to teach me sorcery. I hope that this will prove a path to his recovery."
"Madoc was one of my instructors in Sorcery," Merlin explains. "I had hoped that we might stay here for a time while I teach Vere the basics of the art. I believe it will be simpler for him to learn on this side of Ygg."
"A complicated matter, the healing of a Prince of Amber," Weyland allows. "Particularly of an injury he cannot regrow. If sorcery fails you, perhaps a prosthetic could be of use."
"Such a thing has been considered," Vere says with a small nod. "But the damage was quite severe. And we do not wish to limit his mobility to shadows where only the particular technology or magic used would be possible, nor give foes an easy target to strike at in a fight. I think that will remain a second choice." He pauses, considering Weyland. "Although, were we to look as such a possibility, I would naturally turn to a craftsman of proven ability, should such a one be willing to consider the task."
"I will consider my price for such a prosthetic, Vere Gerardson, and perhaps we will bargain at some point in the future. For now, however, I am not working, merely enjoying the company of our kin on this side of Ygg." Weyland offers a slight bow to Saeth, who doesn't seem to know quite how to react to that pleasantry.
Apparently the idea that he couldn't create a phantom limb, or limbs, to specification doesn't seem to occur to Weyland.
Merlin, who, like Saeth, has either conjured or summoned a chair, and settled atop it, looks askance at Weyland. "Have you ever made such a thing before?" he asks.
"I have made prosthetics, on request, but without knowing the circumstances, I cannot say whether the requirements of previous items have been similar," Weyland allows.
Merlin nods, looking satisfied, as if Weyland has told him something more than the words should have said.
Vere gives another small nod, and says, "No business for now, then, Uncle. Might I inquire how you have enjoyed your visit with our kin so far? I take it this is not your first visit?" He looks around then, and adds, "And might someone explain to me how one obtains a chair?"
"You ask for one, of course," Saeth answers, as if this were obvious.
"Not with Pattern," Merlin adds hastily. "I will call one for you." He closes his eyes, and after a moment, an ottoman forms from the substance of the wall and walks over to Vere with a shambling gait. It stops by its feet as if presenting itself to him.
Everyone seems to be waiting for Vere to sit down.
Vere watches Merlin with narrowed eyes, then shakes his head when the furniture appears and walks to him. He sits, then says, "No, I could not neither see nor feel what you did. What am I not understanding?"
"Direct manipulation of Chaos by Will," Saeth explains. "I will summon another for our kinsman Weyland." She proceeds to do so, and it is no more obvious to Vere what she does than when Merlin did the same thing a few moments before.
"Vere's Third Eye is not yet open. I am hoping I can persuade your father to assist in that work. He is very skilled and I am weak in comparison," Merlin tells Saeth as Weyland seats himself, with special attention to the mouth that Saeth's ottoman-stool seems to have.
"Ahh." Saeth's tone is knowing. "This is why he cannot see the difference."
"There is no paradox here. I do not require the formal structure of sorcery to do the work. Although given that it is not entirely clear by Ordered standards where Madoc ends and the castle, or the affines, begin, it is also easier to simply manipulate the castle lightly and let Madoc arrange the rest as he wills."
Weyland, who has been listening and watching with interest, and perhaps more comprehension than Vere, says, "Chaos can be remarkably complicated for a place with no order and no rules."
"i have remarked upon that myself," Vere replies with a slight smile. "Although I believe that Prince Merlin thinks this opinion is an artifact of my very structured way of viewing the universe."
"Perhaps," Weyland temporizes politely. "Or perhaps it's the Orderly end of Chaos that makes you and me feel this way."
Vere nods. "A question that cannot be answered without a great deal more study. I look forward to improving my understanding of these matters."
Last modified: 4 September 2011