Brennan contrives to be ready to leave [Fiona's lab] when Fiona and Ossian are, although he takes a moment to cadge or conjure a lantern-- he knows he's going to need it. When ready, he'll Part the Veil from his current location right into the chamber of Amber's defunct Pattern. Not directly on the Pattern, and not right next to the door, because Caine is enough of a paranoid to have put a bear trap right at the threshold, but in the chamber regardless.
When he arrives, lantern lit, the first thing he does (if no grues emerge from the shadows and try to eat him) is stroll over to the door and see if it unlocks from the inside without a key.
Other than the uncanny darkness and the crack that is just visible in the lantern's glow, the room is as expected. The door is keyed from both sides, and looks nigh-impregnable, even from this side, which has the hinges on it.
Brennan is annoyed, but not terribly surprised. On the other hand, he's not terribly impressed with Caine's notions of securing the place any more than it's already secured. Amber's Pattern chamber itself no longer presents even a small obstacle to anyone versed in any sort of Power. Parting the Veil here was only the best means of access from a distance. A half a dozen more Sorcerous means came effortlessly to mind that wouldn't even betray entry, not to mention simply conjuring the door unlocked.
The pre-Sundering Pattern chamber, or Rebma's, those presented technical difficulties, as did allowing free access to those not versed in the Arts.
Therefore, Brennan does two things, at the same time: He walks a slow circuit around the Pattern Chamber, in the same direction as he would if he had been walking the Pattern when it functioned. He keeps the lantern that he brought held high above-- this is one reason he brought it, so that he could see freely without working Sorcery. He keeps a weather eye for anything that looks out of place or disturbed from the last time he had been here, although with mundane eyes only for the moment. But more importantly, and taking more of his attention by far, he is looking for the spare Key that must, inevitably, be down here-- there's nowhere more likely for one to be, stashed away against improbable events such as this.
Per Random, Brennan now knows this is possible. But he doesn't expect it to be easy. Being freshly fed and rested, he is prepared to spend a day slowly examining the area, exerting his will on the place and insisting on the presence of a copy of the key. He hopes it takes less than that, but with Brennan's scores hopefully it's enough.
[Also, remind the player-- are the various passages in the basement connected directly to the Pattern Chamber, inside the door? Or is the passage leading to the Pattern Chamber one of those various passages that he'd have to get to the other side of the door to get to?]
There are six side passages along the lefthand wall of the giant central cave, each of which leads to somewhere little-explored beneath the castle. It is a crime for citizens of Amber to enter caves or to dig too deeply, so what's been explored has been explored by Brennan's relatives. There are no additional openings into the pattern chamber, except through the crack. The crack seems remarkably deep.
The recollection that Amber's citizens are forbidden from spelunking sparks a useful notion in Brennan's mind, but he does not follow up on it immediately. He continues his slow circuit around the Pattern chamber, in the general direction he would have taken if he were walking the Pattern itself, all the while insisting to the universe that a Key is there for him to find.
He is thorough, and checks every natural nook and alcove in his circuit, every part of the wall, floor, and ceiling, all the while demanding that the Key present itself to him. He'll take a game step or three down each of those passages, but these steps are also in the nature of thoroughness-- Brennan requires of the cracked Pattern chamber that it contain a Key, and he will not be denied on a technicality of what constitutes the chamber... nor will he be diverted from task by exploring outside it.
By this time, Brennan is no longer bothering to think in terms of reasons and rationales. He has proved to himself that the Key exists, and the proof is shockingly simple and elegant: He has imagined that particular Key, for that particular purpose, and he has imagined it possessing a particular property-- that it exists. Every time he thinks of it (and he is concentrating very hard on it since he is waiting to find it) he reinforces its existence, because the very essence of the Key is to exist. If Brennan had the excess mental capacity to think about this in the context of his discussion with Random, he'd laugh, because this certainly isn't how Random would go about this... but the idea is the same. The essence of the Key is to exist, and the essence of the Chamber is to contain it, and the universe can't maintain disagreement forever.
If Brennan completes his circuit around the room, starting and ending at the door, then there is only one place left in the Chamber for the Key to be: The crack. So Brennan will walk there, and pace the length of it slowly, shining the lantern down to reflect its glint.
His concentration does not waver.
The crack is deep, remarkably so. It is wide enough to climb into, or to roll into, perhaps, and nearly twenty feet long. If the earth moved to make this, it's amazing the castle and city took as little damage as they did.
The light reflects something from deep below. It is at least a hundred feet down. It might be metal, or some sort of shiny rock.
Brennan allows himself the shadow of a smile, as he considers his options. Sorcery is, for the moment, off the table as Brennan maintains the effort of conjury. It is at least difficult, if not actually impossible, to insist that the universe observe the results of his proof of the existence of the Key (on the one hand) while simultaneously telling it to ignore the paradoxes and contradictions he would generate during an exercise of Sorcery (on the other hand.)
But he wants to be able to see, while he's down there. So, Brennan finds himself a length of wood, and sets it across the crevice to one side of where he saw the glitter of the key-- call it the left side-- and hangs the lantern from it. He then moves to the right side of it, pulls on a pair of gloves and begins the descent. If the surface is rough enough to proved handholds, he'll use them and his hands and feet to move downward. If the surface of the fissure walls is smooth, he'll brace his back and feet against opposite sides and worm his way down.
In either case, he's enough off to the side that a stray piece of loose stuff falling down won't hit the Key.
[OOC - If dim memory serves, someone had put planks across the crevice for some purpose years ago. It wasn't Brennan, but they may actually be there without any conjuring required.]
The planks Brennan recalls from his first visit to this pattern chamber have been removed, but only so far as a neat stack by the door. The crack is much deeper than he thought it was, several months ago.
Also possibly wider, which is an extremely worrisome thought.
Brennan begins the climb downwards, slipping past an outcropping six feet down, using the rough surface as handholds when he can. When necessary, Brennan uses both sides to give himself leverage. It is not very long before he has free-climbed perhaps hundred yards down into the fissure.
There is a particularly wide gap that Brennan will have to jump to get to the place he thinks the key is. Below that, the fissure is dark.
Brennan considers pulling out a set of pitons and a hammer to make his life easier, but ultimately decides against it. With an infinity of Shadow to roam, he's never felt the call of the clean climbing ethic, but he has no heart to damage the foundations of Amber any farther than they already have.
So instead, he braces against the walls and pulls out a cigarette lighter, lights it, and re-orients himself on the key. He is not looking to make sure that the key is still there-- he already knows that it is. He's proven it. He is looking to make sure that he is where he thinks he is in relation to it, and to chart an alternate route to it if possible... and to simply shed more light on the situation if not.
If there is a longer, but less risky course than was immediately apparent, he will take that. If the only way, barring Sorcery, is to jump, then he'll collect himself and make the jump. His first priority is getting his hand around the key-- other contingencies can be dealt with later.
Brennan leaps, and crosses the gap. He lands on the ledge and it collapses under him. Brennan gets his hand around the key. It is now time to deal with contingencies. The first contingency is falling. Brennan is falling. He suspects that stopping falling may hurt.
Sir Brennan, Knight Commander, cave-diver and conjurer at large, does not squawk like a flightless bird thrown out of a helicopter. If Huon can handle getting forcibly thrown off Kolvir, Brennan can deal with this.
Besides, all things considered with the evident decay, it wasn't all that unlikely. What is unlikely is that the ledge would cleave off perfectly and cleanly leaving only a flat plane behind it. The opposite is much more likely, so likely that it is a certainty: That there are lesser outcroppings remaining for Brennan to get his free hand on or hook an elbow around. He's been using those all the way down, so it should even be stable... although it doesn't have to be. This is the uppermost and urgentmost certainty in Brennan's mind, already primed in the mode of conjury: There is a handhold for him to grab on to.
Brennan only needs to halt or slow the descent for a moment, just enough to orient and throw a boot or a hip or a shoulder and brace himself against the other wall. And painful as that might be, that contortion only needs to hold long enough for Brennan to stow the key in his boot or in his pocket or, hell, even in his mouth, to regain the use of his other hand.
If that works, Brennan will work himself to a good climbing posture and begin the ascent.
It works, or almost works. What happens would not happen to a lesser man, for no lesser man has Brennan's grip or tenacity. Brennan finds himself holding a handhold, with his arm jerked hard in the socket. He pockets the key and looks for the next handhold and finds none. The gap is wider here, and there is too much separation to bridge with his body. The ledges or other handholds are unable to hold his weight, and he knocks two into the abyss below proving that.
Still, he's no longer falling. Now he's dangling.
Brennan always, always keeps his Trump of Amber uppermost in his deck. That doesn't even require conjury. What is required now is careful, quick, concentration. Brennan bites the climbing glove off his free hand and and spits it out, so that he can feel the Trump of Amber directly rather than through clumsy glovetips as he carefully fishes it out, concentrates on it, and [hopefully] finds firmer footing on the other side.
Brennan finds himself standing on a conspicuously well-aligned spot of dirt. "Halt!", says a voice. "Who goes there?" If they are armed like their predecessors and more alert, it might not be the wisest time to reach into his pocket to check on the key.
That could have been worse, Brennan thinks to himself as he tries to work his shoulder back into normal alignment. His glove could have slipped before or during the contact, and he could have found out very quickly if Trumps are a velocity-preserving transform through space. Which might have been unpleasant.
"Sir Brennan," he calls back.
Brennan doesn't bother to check the pocket for the key, because he already knows it's there. He is, in some limited sense, still conjuring, although at this point he's focussed more on his certainty that the key unlocks what he wants it to unlock.
Brennan returns to the Castle, the keep, the basement, and the pattern chamber, in that order. His movements are noted, and probably reported to Caine. He stands before the closed door.
The moment of truth, Brennan thinks to himself. And the truth is, Brennan has a key that will open this door. He's proven it, with a neat twist of ontology, philosophy, logic, and brute force of will. Once proven, he naturally found the key-- he had to, it existed. And once proven, he will now use it to open the door-- it must, that is its essential nature.
[Assuming it works] Once unlocked, Brennan smiles, open the door, steps inside, closes it and locks it again from the inside.
It unlocks and locks just as Brennan expected. Quite the loophole in the whole door-lock thing, assuming that what works here works there. Or perhaps it explains why the key was generally left on a hook by a solitary, isolated guard.
Even if the lamp that Brennan left hanging from the plank weren't still there, burning, Brennan's smile alone would bathe the Pattern Chamber in an incandescent glow. There are many satisfactions in Brennan's life, but few so pleasing as doing something he'd thought impossible. He pockets the key again, knowing that the universe has given up any vestigial protest as to the properties of the key, and allows his concentration on it to fade.
Then he steps back, mentally, and considers. His near future path will certainly take him to Rebma, and probably with Conner. And Conner, unless the time differential in Fiona's lab is far greater than he expects, may not even have begun questioning Marius' New Best Friend. At best, he is unlikely to be finished. And in the mean time, Brennan is here in the presence of a chasm in the Pattern Chamber that goes deeper than he expected, and that prompted Caine to take protective measures. That may be Caine's paranoia speaking, but Caine is not a fool.
So.
Brennan turns his mind to the far easier task of conjuring himself a sandwich, that gives him the excuse to clear his mind and rest his faculties before proceeding further. Then the equally simple tasks of conjuring some better climbing gear than his hands: a steel rod to place over the chasm, some bricks on either side to keep it steady in place, some rope of deliberately undetermined length, a new climbing glove, and the like. He leaves the lantern there, full of oil and burning brightly to light his descent. He has chalk in his pocket, if he needs it. He considers rigging a pulley system for the lamp, but decides against it: He has a lighter in his pocket, and Sorcery if necessary.
When he feels ready and rested, he descends, expecting a far easier time of it. He's not sure what he's looking for. Possibly nothing. But he'd like to get an idea of how far down the crevasse goes, and if it branches out horizontally at some depth, perhaps intersecting with some greater pre-existing (or not) cave structure even farther down than anyone expected.
His Trump of Amber is, as always, in the top position, but he doesn't expect to use it. He will not be shy about using Sorcery if something goes amiss.
The climb is remarkable only in that it is possible. Brennan notices the heat and the brittle nature of the rock. That last makes it treacherous. Brennan is nearing the end of his rope when the walls end, and he finds himself over a skree of rock. It looks recent, and probably fell from the crevasse above into the cave below.
The castle is two-thirds of the way up a mountain, and the stairs are a fraction of the distance, so the caves could be quite extensive. Brennan may be fifty or a hundred feet below the pattern chamber now.
Brennan makes a handful of bold chalk marks on either side of the crevasse, indicating roughly where the bottom of the rock was in case he ever comes back this way and wants to see if the degeneration is progressive. Then, after a moment's internal debate, he pulls himself up about a Brennan-length and makes another sequence of marks, then a second Brennan-length and does it one last time before returning to the end of the rope.
He is aware of two things, as he drops down. First, with some exhilaration, that it is possible that no one, not even his aunts and uncles, have been here, before; the caves below might not intersect with the caves above. Second, and uncomfortably, that he's poking around in what might correspond to the remains of Oberon's subconscious.
If the distance or the footing requires it, he will use Sorcery to lighten the fall considerably.
Assuming nothing shocking happens as or after he lands, Brennan then does the following things: First, he finds and lights a torch to get a better look around than the faraway light of the lantern hanging up above him. Second, even though Brennan has a pretty good sense of direction and some chalk to mark his way if these caves extend any fair distance, he is aware that it easy to get lost and turned around in dark caverns. And these are previously unexplored caves directly below a dead Pattern, of which all labyrinths are but a Shadow.
Precautions are warranted. Having read the classics, he considers conjuring a long spool of twine, but that becomes cumbersome. Thus, Brennan reaches out and performs a fairly subtle working of Space and Astrality. He creates a connection between two points in Space-- this chamber, which is fixed, and his own moving body. As he moves, the gentle tension expresses itself as an Astral cord. He's seen similar constructs between the Aelfs, although this is more solid and defined. And he's seen a similar construct generate itself when he separates his astral and physical bodies... but this is just a marker, not damaging if somehow seen and somehow cut.
That, combined with liberal use of the chalk and his own native good sense of direction and memory should be enough to keep him from getting lost.
Brennan casts the spell. Astrally, it is not subtle. Even if he becomes detached from it, it's very visible with his third eye. It follows all of his wandering, step-for-step and seems likely to last as long as needed.
Astrally, the cave is very dark. Only Brennan himself and now his astral twine are visible.
In the light of his torch, Brennan sees a fairly standard large cave. There are any number of stone features on the walls, floor, and ceiling and several steep drops. The scree looks like it is recent, and made mostly of the contents of the crack falling from the ceiling. There hasn't been much erosion, although there is water below. Brennan is standing on the slope.
Brennan isn't sure what he's looking for-- maybe nothing, in which case this is all just a diverting mid-afternoon's jaunt.
But generally, he will explore downward vs upward, toward heat an away from cold if given a choice, and for no reason except consistency, right vs left. Being athletic, and a Sorcerer, and a Pattern initiate able to conjure climbing gear, Brennan is fairly confident in his ability to make progress as long as there are passable routes. He is fairly aggressive in doing so.
The tunnels are long, dark, and narrow, and twist extensively. Brennan makes frequent trailblazes on the walls and, when necessary, the floors. The sights in the cave are magnificent, if one likes that kind of thing. Cave curtains that look as if they were hung by Oberon's servants and ossified over millennia, pillars that could hold up the sky, the odd human-shaped stalagmite, looking as if it were placed to surprise and haunt the unwary spelunker. It helps that Brennan is strong enough to clear the way, and nearly untiring.
After an uncounted number of minutes and a smaller number of caves, Brennan comes across two things simultaneously.
The first is a chalk mark he did not place.
The second is the sound of dripping water. It comes from the direction of the blaze.
So much for going bravely where no one has ever gone before, Brennan thinks. But on the other hand, he's come this far. Of course he's going to find out who, or what-- he brightens momentarily-- maybe he is the first person to come here-- is up ahead. He frowns, though, at the thought off some inhuman beast marking the way with chalk.
He hasn't made any particular effort to be quiet, so far. He's carrying a torch. And he's trailing an Astral thread. So he doesn't bother to be stealthy, as such. He does proceed cautiously, though. No telling who, or what, is up ahead. No telling how long they've been there or how twitchy they are.
The cave that the arrow points to is vast, and Brennan's light doesn't reach the far wall or the roof of it. It arches madly away.
No more than ten feet in, the stone turns to gravel and then to something akin to sand.
The cave is flooded, and seems to have been for some time. It's water as far as he can see, with only this small beach intruding into it.
The water is not still, but Brennan can't tell if the effect is tidal or from flowing water.
There are no further blazes.
Brennan purses his lips, and does some cursory investigations to give him a chance to think this one over.
He tastes the water, to see if this is an underground lake, or if this might be some rather oddly connected piece of the sea, under ground. He thinks back over the last part of the route-- was there some alternate path, that might be full of cave-blazes back to a different source than his own?
The water is fresh and fed by mineral springs, from the taste of it.
But more than thinking about heading back, he's thinking about which way to take forward: Above the water, or below it?
To that end, he works the light of the lantern with Sorcery. He had done something similar with the energy of a shout under another mountain far away, changing it so that it did not lose strength as it left his mouth. He does the same, here, using the more direct Principle of Space, rather than Entropy, so that the light loses none of its strength as it spreads out from its source. In doing this, he should be able to see more of the cave above the water, even if he still might not be able to see all of it.
The roof of the cave is black in patches, and looks rough. Below the blackest patches seems to be an island.
The ceiling isn't unreasonably high. It doesn't extend higher than the pattern chamber's floor, or so Brennan guesses.
That won't help him look under the water, though. So he works the light, and his eyesight, into the Astral as well, in the hopes that he will be able to see at least some features under the water. What he expects to see under the water (if that works) he isn't quite sure-- abandoned boat, or evidence of one under the waterline, maybe. Some underwater passage on the near shore, perhaps.
Once he figures out which approach he wants to take, above or below, he'll figure out how to accomplish it.
[OOC: Astrally, you mostly see permanent things (like Rocks) and living things (like people and trees). Impermanent things (like buildings and boats) aren't there.]
Under the water the cave is much deeper than it is tall, and the cave is a mass of twisty little waterways. They teem with life. Some of it is large.
Brennan frowns a little, because neither of those are what he expected, but neither is so outlandish as to concern him greatly. He opts for the high road, and walks across the water to the island, keeping a weather eye on the life below.
When he realizes that he's stalling, his frown deepens but he does not immediately change course. If he gets to the island, he'll give it a reasonable inspection, but he doesn't really expect to find anything.
Brennan casts his spell and build his bridge of solid water. Moving it is tricky, mostly because of the need to create and destroy it constantly. Sorcery wants to do the thing and have it done. Still, Brennan is convinced it will be as effective as he hopes, as long as nothing interferes with it.
He steps across the water, stopping at the island. It seems to be artificial, and mostly composed of guano. It would have to have been here a long time to make an island out of guano. The top layers seem diggable, although it's firm enough to stand on. It hardly smells at all.
Brennan does not at this time entertain the notion of setting foot on, or digging through, the island. It's bad enough that he taste-tested the water.
Still, where there is guano, there is something above to produce it, and some way for those producers to access the rest of the world. Brennan looks to see if he can tell if this is from something bird-sized, or other. Then, backing off somewhat from the island, Brennan takes a careful look up at those black patches on the roof of the cavern. Anything alive should be a beacon to astral sight.
There's nothing alive up there at the moment, although Brennan spots a horizontal shaft between the two largest black patches. It could easily lead to a chimney or other exit. It doesn't look very big.
There is quite a bit of life in the water at the edge of the island. It glows with it in the astral, most of it is very small. It would take very small creatures a very long time to eat through the island.
From here, Brennan can see where the water drains from the cavern, under a narrow ledge on the opposite side of the lake from the beach. Other than that, he sees nothing new.
Brennan paces for a bit on his solidified water. His curiosity has been suitably aroused, now-- someone else, however long ago, thought this place was important enough to mark a route, and Brennan is stubborn enough to want to know why that was. It's either something above the water, something below the water, something buried beneath the island... or this is just a stop on the way to wherever that other person was going. He rolls his eyes to himself-- yes, that is exactly the kind of incisive analysis for which the Redheads are collectively known: It's either up or down, in sight or not, in this room or somewhere else, where "it" is conveniently undefined as yet. Geniuses, all of us.
Narrowing his options somewhat, Brennan suspects that this place is important either because it leads through the drain under the ledge, or because something was placed in or on the island. Certainly hiding something in a mountain of dung would keep most people from digging too deeply. And in either case, there are multiple possible reasons that no further blazes are apparent: one left on the island (if there's a solid foundation beneath the filth) could now be covered, one left under the water near the drain could now be eroded, or this could simply have been the end of the line with no further blaze necessary.
But, unless there's some telltale sign, some blaze near the vent that stood the test of time, he won't have any way of knowing which it was. Very well-- Brennan ends his pacing at the small ledge. He steps on to it and examines it and the area nearby, both above and below the waterline. Above, there could be another chalk mark now that Brennan knows (or thinks he knows) where to look. Below, something might be carved into the rock, if the water level was the same whenever the previous cave-delver came through.
To assist in looking below the waterline-- and to make sure that he doesn't subconsciously conjure a mark into existence-- Brennan works some very minor sorcery, of Gravity and Phase Changes, to push the water away from the vent, giving him a better view.
The opening below the waterline is wide and deep and rushes over a small falls to a lower body of water. There are two man-man marks there. One a blaze like the prior one, carved in the stone. The second look like marks made by someone attaching a ring or mooring tools to the wall. It would not be easy to get back up once one had gone down.
Brennan looks back at the guano reef, mostly relieved that he doesn't need to mess with it.
Turning his attention back to the marked vent, he once again pushes the water out of the way and makes that effect last long enough that he can swing himself through and have enough time to clamber down into the chamber below-- a watch will be more than enough, and it's a comparatively trivial effect. But it's nice not to have water pouring on his head while he's trying to concentrate.
Brennan climbs down without the benefit of a hook or a rope, but also without the benefit of an active Pattern a few hundred yards away. On the way down he changes select handsful of the rock face into liquid, and lets it run out. The area affected isn't very large, just enough to make naturally spaced handholds and footholds if he should need them on the way back up.
Brennan climbs down his ready-made handholds for about 40 feet, to a small ledge where he has spotted a metallic reflection.
The tunnel continues downward into blackness, although the blackness at the bottom seems to be reflective. Because of Brennan's spells, he's not entirely sure how far down that bottom is.
When he reaches the bottom, Brennan steps out of the way of where the water is eventually going to start flowing again, looks for more blazes, and unless there are exceptional circumstances, he follows them. Now he's committed.
Brennan finds a dagger, ancient but free of rust, jammed in between two rocks. Near it he finds a single word scratched into the stone in angular thari characters. "Deeper".
With a roar, the tunnel above gives way. Hurling rocks, solid water, and a large amount of the lake pour through the new, lower gap straight at Brennan. He has only seconds to react.
First things first: Brennan works one of the spells he's had worked out for quite some time, that's gotten him out of many tight spots in the past. He speeds up his own passage through time. It's a brute force effect, largely because there is truly no time for subtlety, beyond making sure that whatever he touches (atmosphere, liquid, the dagger if he chooses to grab it) don't trap him.
Once he does that and sees how effective it is, he'll do something else.
Everything stops above him.
Brennan casts a withering, baleful eye at the wall of water just a few feet over his head. "Figures," he mutters to himself. But having bought himself a substantial amount of time, Brennan begins to use it.
The next order of business is to examine the dagger and the blaze. After some examination, Brennan will carefully pull the weapon free from where it's wedged unless there is some reason to think that would be unwise. He's not expecting or looking for anything exotic, but he is hoping for an indication of who might have owned it, originally.
The dagger shows the signs of three things. First, it looks quite expensive. Second, it was used to scratch the word into the stone. Third, it has been on this ledge for a long, long time, exposed to the spray of water. It disintegrates when Brennan pulls it from the stone.
And after that, if possible, he'll try to get a better look at the breach above him, and the tunnel around him: How large is the breach, how stable does the area he's in look, how far down does the passage seem to go, does it twist or turn, are there any features that resolve once Brennan has a chance to shine a lantern down it, etc?
Everything looks stable when frozen in place. If Brennan is correct in his look back at it, this was a trap, and the walls of the chamber could only hold the water back for long enough for someone to get into trouble.
When he looks down, he would have been washed down a twisting passage, which leads to another body of water. It smells of salt down below.
When that information is gathered, Brennan uses the survey information to figure out a few critical dimensions, then makes a few impromptu sketches on the cave walls around him. A few, higher up from the ledge than Brennan is, are oblong blobs on the walls themselves, roughly where the water is going to place the greatest stress on the walls. Another, just below that, goes all the way around the tunnel, with several crosses marked out at irregular intervals.
Finally, Brennan thinks a bit, and considers where he'd like the water to go. He smirks when he thinks about the Temple Complex in Uxmal, but fights the notion down. If nothing else, transport within Shadow is easier than transport across Shadows, and this needs to be as simple as possible. It may feel like Brennan has years to perform this, but external time is more important... so he has only a sequence of instants, in fact.
He settles on a location far down the coast of Amber, off any of the shipping lanes that were, and far enough off the coast not to do any damage. He concentrates, and Parts the Veil, at least twice, using the chalk outlines as a guide. Once or more are close to the cave wall, to keep the water pressure off and prevent further damage if possible. The other is below that and comes as close to filling the tunnel mouth as Brennan can manage without actually touching it. It won't be a vacuum seal by any means, but if Brennan can't get rid of the vast majority of the falling material, he's doing something wrong.
He does make sure that he's below the horizontal gate before it opens. When that's done, he gently eases up on the spell affecting his own timeflow to make sure this works the way he wants. If it does, he releases it all the way.
When Brennan tugs on his spell, it collapses, which was something he might have expected. The water and the stone go tumbling into the sea, far from this spot. Before long a new equilibrium is reached. Some water goes past, but not much.
Brennan stands beneath his parted veil, his sorcerous umbrella keeping him from getting more than splashed upon. Below him is a slick, slide-like tunnel. Beside him is the word "deeper", and a broken knife.
Conner is halfway to Amber's stables to head out into shadow when a midshipman tracks him down with a return message from Caine. Apparently Brennan is in Amber and wanted to talk to Conner before leaving. Not wanting to take the time to search or have others search, Conner withdraws to quiet room in the castle and brings forth his mirror. Bringing Brennan's features to mind, he focuses upon the glass and adds a twist of Space to allow him to speak through it.
"Brennan?" Conner asks as the image comes into view. "Can you hear me?"
"Conner?" Brennan asks "Is that you?"
Wherever Brennan is, it's mostly dark and evidently underground, although the light falling on him from above is surprisingly natural. It's also damp and drizzly and constricted. Brennan is obviously in the middle of something, but not so much in the middle that he can't spare the concentration for a conversation.
He is eyeing downward from wherever he is, probably gauging the difficulty of climbing down to whatever he's looking at.
Brennan determines that climbing down would be easy, albiet dark, damp, and wet at the far end.
"Yes it is. Caine passed your message." Conner replies. "Where are you? Do you need an exit?"
"Need? No," Brennan says. "I'm at least several ullamalitzi fields' length below the Pattern chamber, getting a very up close and personal look at Amber's physical degradation. And when I say below, I mean below. The fissure across the design runs clear through the bedrock, now, and comes out into a cave network that is... less than ideal.
"But I did want to talk, so I'm glad you called. Question is, do you want to come cave-diving while we do it?"
"You are beneath the Pattern Chamber?" Conner echoes incredulously. "Of course I want to come." He grins. "Make some room so I can Part the Veil to your location." Once a Conner sized bit of space is clear, Conner Parts the Veil and steps through.
"Bide," Brennan says. He doesn't want Conner's parted veils anywhere near his own, and this little ledge is not the best of locations.
After he's scaled down the rest of the tunnel, he dismisses his own veils (if they haven't already closed) and bids his cousin come through. "Careful, it's wet." Brennan lights the lantern as Conner comes through.
Brennan and Conner find themselves in a narrow passageway, slick with algae and pond life, probably the same life Brennan saw above. For the moment, no water courses down it, but that seems to be a new thing. There are pools left behind and Brennan thinks that any further collapse or shifting above will cause this to be a running waterway again.
It's also clearly the only thing the writer above could have meant by "deeper".
The passageway continues ahead, and dead ends before too long. If water was flowing here, there must be an exit ahead.
Once Conner is through, Brennan brings him quickly up to speed: "So. It's wet, but it could be wetter," he says. "This little jaunt started out directly in the Pattern chamber up above. I conjured a Key, and because my subconscious doesn't believe in easy things, it was in the fissure that runs through the Pattern," he grimaces. "Said fissure now runs clean through the bedrock, a hundred feet or more, and empties out into this network. Didn't used to, as far as I know. But then, there used to be a functioning Pattern up there. The fissure now empties out into this rather extensive network."
Brennan gives a thumbnail overview of some of the things he's seen and gives a sense of the scale of the place. He includes the markings that he saw prior to and after the lake cave, the dagger, and of course, a brief description of the recent collapse. He finishes with a scowl: "I really don't like what that instability says about the place."
Having said that, he looks set to walk and talk, instead of just talk. Then, almost as an afterthought, "Oh. Assuming more... incidents. Sorcery, not Pattern?"
"Agreed." Conner nods. "It is my stronger suit and I am currently playing no-Trump." He quips. "So you were able to bring forth a key through force of will. This changes my intended plans for Rebma's little difficulty. I was adding an unnecessary step it would seem." As Brennan has the light, Conner lets him lead the way forward.
Brennan nods, possibly to more than one of Conner's statements. "It wasn't one of the easier things I've done in my life," he says. "And part of the reason I was in the Pattern chamber while I did it, was that I could then test the key in Amber's door to make sure it really worked. Which it did."
Brennan starts moving forward.
"That's one of the things I wanted to tell you-- we're already partway to a solution to that problem. Another thing is this: I asked the King his desire in this matter, and his desire is for Khela to have her own key, so at least we're excused from the awkwardness of opening up the Pattern chamber for her and then trying to pocket the key and walk away," Brennan says. "So, I see three ways to proceed."
Brennan lists them, as follows: "First, we can conjure another key specific to Rebma's door, either here or on the way. Second, we can manipulate this key," he makes the Family gesture for Redheaded trickery, "into a mirror image of itself, which ought to be good for the door in Rebma." By his expression, he expects this not to be difficult. "Third, we can see if Khela is capable of a pulling a mirror image of this key out of an actual Rebman mirror, because I'd actually like to see that. Am I missing a possibility?"
"Not that I can think of though I question the assumption that Rebma's key by necessity must be an enantiomer of Amber's." Conner comments. "Fortunately, we can empirically test that. I have a wax impression of Rebma's lock so any tinkering required can be done to fit the actual dimensions. It had been my intention to find a place where forging a key to Rebma's lock would be possible and then make one. As with Gerard's legs, I had the concern that a key made in the wrong fashion might not prevail against the Pattern's influence. Now it seems I just have to trust to the key working and it shall."
"I had it from Random himself that conjuring such a thing was possible, so we've got that going for us. I was going to take Caine's key and use it as a template, until the Random suggested I was making hard work out of things," Brennan says.
"As for the mirror imaging, I think it's a good assumption, but even good assumptions are worth testing. And the line of thought behind the keys being mirror images of each other leads to other, more troubling thoughts, which are the other reason I wanted to talk in private before we head to Rebma. I don't know how or why-- yet-- but Rebma and Amber were connected in a way more fundamental than just the Faiella Bionin. Hell, the road doesn't even still connect them, as far as I know, but I think they're still connected. I'm told the damage done to Rebma in its recent earthquake is quite reminiscent of the damage done to Amber in the Sundering. And while Rebma's Pattern still seems to hold... somewhat... I don't think we should have been able to do what we did. Even Fiona put some distance between herself and Xanadu before Parting the Veil, recently, in contrast to our opening a door right into the chamber. Put that on top of the truly bizarre tales that Brita and Ossian were telling about Huon and Pinabello..." Brennan gives something between a shrug and shudder. "I think whatever connection remains is dragging Rebma down with it."
"A disturbing conjecture," Conner murmurs, "and one I would investigate before binding myself to Rebma tighter. I would point out though that there are other considerations besides difficulty that might explain Mother's decision to travel from Xanadu before Parting the Veil." Conner pauses a moment. "During the battle with Huon I Parted the Veil on the battlefield. I was being dragged away by one of those shark constructs and needed to return in a hurry. The two points that I joined remain joined. The Veil did not mend. Further evidence to add to the 'Som'thin Ain't Right' column to be sure."
Brennan stares at Conner, after he says that. "No. No, that's just not right. We have really got to get in there and take a look at that thing. I have a Trump of your mother, too, if she wants to look over our shoulders as it were." Brennan fishes the key out of his pouch and hands it over to Conner, so he can check it against his wax impression if he desires.
"And yes, point taken. But... it feels right. Left to my own natural inclinations, I would prefer to study it for about two, maybe three centuries before doing something rash. If I'm wrong, then we may actually have that much time. If I'm right, though..." Brennan trails off, scowling long on the point of a decision, to finish that sentence or not.
Conner draws forth the wax impression and accepts the key. "Well, I am not usually in the camp of wishing you to be wrong but I think I shall make an exception in this case." Conner comments dryly. Conner closes one eye and lines up the key with his impression.
Conner muses as he works. "I've been harboring disturbing thoughts myself. The main line of thought goes like this. We have been operating under the assumption that the Patterns of Amber and Rebma were normal and that Tir's is somehow different or wrong as evidenced by its relationship with time and alternate realities. Now, we have some evidence that time behaves strangely around Rebma's pattern. Could our base assumption be wrong? Could Rebma and Tir's Patterns be the norm and it was Amber's that had unusual stability?"
Brennan gives that some thought, but ultimately responds: "It could be, but I'm not convinced. For Tir, what little Ambrose and I have decoded of Brand's papers tell us that he was nearly obsessed with it, because it was impossible by his understanding. He didn't have the same obsession with Rebma, though-- not as far as I know, anyway. So that implies to me several things: That Rebma and Tir were not in the same categories in Brand's mind, for one thing. And therefore that Tir is the odd one out, or was, anyway. And from what I heard in the recent Mandatory Fun, though, Tir is the way it is because of something that someone, possibly the so-called Queen of it did.
"And for Rebma, maybe you're right, but it doesn't jibe with anything else I've ever heard about it. If anything, it wasn't that long ago that we were wondering about it's stability in contrast to Amber's: Oberon died repairing Dworkin's primal Pattern, and Amber died with him. We all assumed that was the way of it, except for the glaring exception of Rebma surviving on centuries past Moins' death, and no one who understood those things saw fit to question it," Brennan says.
Conner nods along with Brennan's assessment of the alternate paradigm. That Brennan does not dismiss it out of hand is enough for the moment.
He looks like he's going to say more, then asks, "Keep a confidence?"
Conner looks up from his work at that. "Whatever you say will stay between you, me and the twisted tunnel wall." Conner assures Brennan.
Brennan nods, once. "Okay, let's assume you're right and that there was something unique about Amber's Pattern and it's stability. I'm not convinced, but let's make the assumption. It was still after that, that things with Rebma and Tir started getting weird. Queen of Air and Darkness sightings, Moonrider activity, all the strangeness associated with Rebma started turning up after that.
"I think my explanation is simpler: Amber affects only Rebma on that deep, metaphysical level because for reasons unknown, they've always been tied together. The twinned earthquakes and earthquake damage. The twinned interregnums and attacks by Princes bearing grudges. The twinned Dragons in the forests. Not a perfect correspondence, but a good one, on top of all the superficial ones. The Moonrider and Queen of Tir activity I would explain as sheer opportunism, since they are willful agents, not simply reactive ones. The geography of the Faiella-Bionin has changed, leadership has changed and they see their opportunity," Brennan says. "Subject to revision by better information, of course.
"Still, either way, what we're pointing to is..." It sounds like Brennan is going to trail off again, but he makes himself say it. He probably hasn't said it out loud before, because he sounds like he's pronouncing his own death sentence: "I think, to save Rebma, I need to repair Amber's Pattern."
Conner is silent for a long moment. He opens his mouth to speak once and then closes it again. Finally he says, "I am finding it difficult to decide just which of the giant assumptions implied by that statement to comment on first." Conner offers Brennan a good-natured smile. "So let's start with the base. Until recently, the three first order Pattern realms were linked through Amber by a pair of stairs, the Faiella-Bionin and the Moonlight Steps. Since the Sundering of Amber's Pattern and drawing of Corwin's and Random's, these linkages have been reforged. Xanadu is now linked to Tir and Paris to Rebma. Now if I am understanding the crux of your argument, you are arguing that the Pattern Realm of Rebma somehow required Amber's Pattern for its own stability and that despite the evidence of a physical link to the Pattern Realm of Paris, Corwin's Pattern is incapable of applying the same stabilizing force to Rebma. Is that right?"
"In essence, yes," Brennan says. "I think that the links of the Faiella-Bionin are distinct from the special relationship between Rebma and Amber. For one thing, there are more links than the ones you've mentioned: I'd always suspected that there was one on the other side of Tir-na Nog'th, and what Benedict and the others said at the mandatory Family Fun confirmed that. There are divergent views in the Family on whether it's a natural artifact or a created one, but the fact that it bears Faiella's name is a strong indicator.
"The connection between Rebma and Amber is different, though. I'm not talking about a physical path between them, I'm talking about whatever kept the mirror-like relationship between them for hundreds, if not thousands of years." Brennan doesn't bother to list them in full since he just listed several of them a few minutes ago. "I know of no similar relationship between Paris, Xanadu, or Rebma. Will you concede it is a possibility, if I concede that the case is not conclusive?"
Conner nods at that. "Yes, I will accept it is a possibility." Conner temples his hands and looks at them at he speaks. "Personally though, I favor the notion that an equilibrium between Paris and Rebma will be reached and what we are witnessing are the volatile metaphysical reactions that must occur before that new normal is reached. However, except for waiting to see if Rebma collapses, we need practical tests for our pair of hypothesis. We would need a sorcerer conversant with how difficult sorcery was to work in Rebma before the Sundering to test the hypothesis that the Pattern's resistance to Sorcery is less. Khela perhaps?"
"Possible," Brennan says, "or possibly Celina, although it is also possible that neither of them were practicing Sorcery in Rebma at all. Certainly they both have a vested interest in keeping Rebma whole and healthy. It is a bit more subjective than I prefer, although I can't say that with a straight face and still play to my hunches."
"Celina was trained in Llaya during her time in the Shells and was not recalled to Rebma until after the Sundering." Conner replies. "Khela at least was there before and after though I do not know when she was trained. Or who by for that matter." Conner hums. "The candidate pool may be larger than we think."
"Let's agree to look for different, more objective measures, anyway. One of the reasons I've been so eager to get into Rebma's Pattern Chamber in the first place is to spend some quality time investigating its Pattern directly. Looking directly at it with the Third Eye is dangerous, and in the Astral is even moreso, but..." Brennan lapses into a short technical summary of how he plans not to go blind in the attempt. It sounds like a lengthy affair. "...and if that works, I'll probably be even more worried than I am now."
"I would feel more comfortable with your plan if you had tried it on a Pattern previously." Conner comments. "Without a before picture, what you see may be hard to interpret. Also, the risk of death by vortex should be taken into account."
"I think we'll obviously also want to take a look at this still-opened Veil of yours, too," he says, but Brennan's leaving it open to interpretation if he means we-you-and-I-together, or we-are-doing-these-things-separately-as-part-of-the-larger-task.
"Mother suggested that it may take one familiar with the Jewel and Rebma's Pattern to make sense of it." Conner replies. "Both Mother and Corwin have stated an intent to look at it but it is a rather low priority for them. I would appreciate your opinion of it."
"I'd be happy to," Brennan says. "Looking at a symptom of the problem may help diagnose the overall situation, too. And as for the vortex effect," Brennan almost shudders, "that still works. But, what I've noticed is that effects of Chaos-- Sorcery, affines, creatures like the Eater-- can exist proximate to a Pattern without triggering that reflex. There seems to be a difference between changing the rules and bringing them into the area, vs going into the area and changing the rules right there. Still, caution is warranted. And all beside the point if we can't get in there."
Brennan changes the topic, a little. "I think we also need to know something about Rebma's past. Not its recent past, and not its political past," Brennan says, "but its antiquity, and its origins. Surely Khela has some knowledge of this, since she found Belagamon. But someone trained to separate the wheat from the chaff would be extremely useful."
"The primary conduit of that knowledge is currently under Jerod's protection." Conner replies. "I inquired politely for a meeting with the archivist and was ignored. A request from you couched as concern about the impending collapse of a Pattern realm may be more favorably received. Though my concern is the same, I am too politically tied to Khela to be seen as impartially working for the good of the universe."
"Ah," Brennan says, drawing the obvious mental connection. "Noted. Along with a question of her ultimate sympathies, be they to Moire, Khela, Jerod, the good of the Realm or some other entity.
"I can keep a confidence, too: are you tied to Khela, or are you tied to Rebma?" Brennan asks.
Conner pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts. "Once I take on the responsibility of Rebma's Pattern Blade then I am tied to Rebma first and foremost. Moving from metaphysics to politics and family ties, I believe my position would be best described as anti-Moire, pro-Celina and keeping an open mind about Khela." Conner smiles. "I like her personally but as a Queen I fear she intends to change too much too quickly without sufficient knowledge of the potential consequences."
"That does about summarize it," Brennan agrees. "I've spoken with the King, as I mentioned before. I spoke to him specifically about giving the key to Khela, and he was sufficiently in favor of it to give me advice on how to make it happen easier. That much is fact. He also desires good relations between Xanadu and Rebma, and prefers Khela as friend rather than foe. That much is fact. What I don't know are his thoughts on the Triton situation, or if he even has an opinion on who should be Queen of the place. As a trained diplomat rather than a simple military man like myself," butter would not melt in Brennan's mouth, as he says this, "I'll defer to your ideas on phrasing when we present the key."
Brennan refrains from pointing out yet another metaphysical similarity between Rebma and Amber: The Tritons vs the Arcadians.
Brennan feels a sort of snap as the spell moving the water away from the riverbed gives way. The water, no longer directed to a spot far out to sea, rushes down the waterway, taking Brennan and Conner with it. Luckily, most of the falling rocks were sent away already, and it's merely water. Still, it's quite a bit of water, and it's moving fast.
The two men are beaten and half drowned when they wash up on a small beach in a pocket of air. There's something carved in the wall here, but there's no light to see by. The water courses through a hole under a rock that's too narrow for humans to fit through. Given that, it's probably a good thing that Brennan got rid of the falling rocks.
It's dark, but Brennan and Conner can hear each other gasping for breath over the water running out the tiny opening.
After he spits out the water and catches his breath and mutters something about how much he hates being underwater-- a comment he'll deny, later-- he says, "Let there be light." It's an irritated sentiment, spoken by an irritated redhead.
He's lost the lantern, so he settles for tweaking the local laws of entropy so that a small but illuminating flame feeds off of nothing, not even the air in the pocket around them. He looks around for Conner to see if he needs any help. And what's around them.
Conner is sputtering and muttering in turn but it is mostly unintelligible. Conner too draws upon his sorcery for a light source only he tweaks the laws of conservation of energy to produce a globe of light in his hand. "Remind me not to tell his Majesty about this. He might turn Amber into a water slide theme park." Conner grumbles. "Are you all right?" Conner asks as he too looks around.
"Mortally wounded in pride," Brennan says. "Otherwise, unharmed."
There are deeply carved words on the ledge:
Enjoy your stay, Brother. I hope that neither your light nor your trumps are wet. I'm sure someone will call and rescue you before you starve.
Next time I tell you not to follow me, consider the advantages of listening.
The note is unsigned.
After reading the carved note twice, Conner takes a closer look around the pocket. "Well, the lack of a skeleton would seem to confirm the carver's assumption." Conner comments mildly. "Quite a bit of effort to make a point, wouldn't you say?"
Brennan looks around in thinly veiled annoyance.
"Is it even worth trying to figure out which prince with too much time on his hands set this up?" he asks. "Rarely have I seen better evidence that Oberon left his sons with too much time on their hands."
"Or princess." Conner adds as he tries stretching into a more comfortable position. "I am inclined to leave this little oubliette to time and erosion." Conner replies. "I think the more interesting question is how this cavern system was accessed in the first place as your route here wasn't available at the time. Once we are in drier environs, what say you to a little experiment in sorcery? I am thinking that an application of space and ingenuity might provide us with a map of this cavern system with less chance of drowning."
Brennan smirks-- of the Princesses, Fiona had crossed his mind.
"I would guess this complex hooks into the one just outside the entrance to the Pattern chamber," he says. "But proof would be nice, as well as an indication of whether something down here is worth finding."
Brennan dries his clothes by the direct route-- turning the water from liquid to vapor and stepping out of the cloud. Then he makes ready to assist Conner as requested.
The process that Conner lays out is very similar to his scrying with the mirror in that it is an extension of his senses to elsewhere only instead of locking in on a mental image far away, it is more a physical moving of his sight down the corridors, essentially allowing him to explore the cave system without needing to physically traverse it. Elements of energy would be worked in to allow a light source for physical vision and elements of time to speed up the process to allow for a more rapid mapping of the system.
This is an idea so simple it borders on genius, and Brennan's scowl is a tell-tale sign that he's irritated he didn't think of it first. If Conner is suggesting doing this in parallel with his mirror, then Brennan pays as much attention as possible to the operations of the mirror as well.
Brennan's practical suggestion for the operation is to incorporate moments of third-eye and astral vision to the operation, just to make sure nothing strange is missed. (Brennan will note his own astral thread going back whence he came, so Conner isn't troubled by it.) Brennan's impractical suggestion-- he brings this up only as a thought experiment, he's not really willing to try it under these circumstances-- is to speed the process up by parallelizing it. They both already know that sufficiently powered Sorcery can put them in two places at the same time, so putting their vision in two places at the same time should be doable as well. Or more than two places. However, as audacious as Brennan normally is with exercises of Sorcery, he's hesitant on that idea. That much information coming at them at once might just end up not comprehended, and therefore wasted. The key, Brennan thinks, is to somehow record the information gained so it can be apprehended in full at a later time... although that's really just a way of shifting the burden of time somewhere else. It's an idea to puzzle over later, of the sort that Brennan likes to assign to himself.
In any case, it's Conner's idea, so Brennan sets himself up to assist rather than lead.
Conner admits that he considered the splitting of the search in such a way but rejected it for the same reasons. Conner's powers of recall are exceptionally trained but more than one input stream would likely overwhelm them.
Once they are ensconced in a somewhat drier area of the cave network, Conner prepares by scrawling a series of runic channeling on the walls with a piece of chalk. They are the magical equivalent of radar dishes and radio towers designed to boost the sending and receiving of his site. As he has done before Conner places the Eye at the center of this matrix. He consults with Brennan on the introduction of his elements of astral vision and how he can best stabilize the sorcerous structure while tapping into the visual feed. When ready, Conner focuses his will upon the mirror and sends his senses outward into the tunnels.
The trick works, mostly. While faster than walking, it is not instantaneous. Conner wonders if some places didn't... subtly deflect him. The pattern chamber is at the extremes of the spell's range, so perhaps it's just a coincidence.. [OOC: some things you may need to actually go see...]
In the end, Conner finds a pathway to what may well be the giant cave that the stairs to the castle are connected to. And the pattern chamber. The distance viewing spell expires, but Conner thinks that, if they were at the top of the river they're at the bottom of, they could walk out of the caves.
Not from the bottom of the trap, though. There are no passages out from here, unless Conner and Brennan break open more water chutes.
If Brennan had the same hunch about being deflected from some areas, he doesn't say anything about it. He was clearly paying enough attention to have pressed a rough outline of the network into his mind, but seems to have no immediate plans for it.
"A very nice technique, but I think we've reached the limits of easy information down here," he says. "And I find myself with no pressing reason to be much of any place but Rebma. At the very least, I want to see what we can do with that key. I have no Trumps of anyone likely to be there, and unfortunately there are no Trumps of anyone likely in the Trump Booth, either. Which leaves hoofing it through Paris," Brennan considers, then adds, "or Parting the Veil to a convenient location."
Brennan describes a place he's been, a place under water in a cavern with a throne made for a giant, that leads eventually out to Rebma.
"Want to come?" The time frame is ambiguous-- it could be right here and now, or after a short delay.
Conner nods. "Yes, I was preparing to ride out from Amber to Rebma when I got the message you wanted to talk to me. Shall we attempt to Hellride to a Key? I for one am absolutely sure we will find one." Conner grins.
"We could," Brennan says, "although I'd be more inclined to split the difference: Veil to the location I know along the way and find the key en route. Two birds with one stone. The other possibility is to go with the key we've got, and see if Khela's mirror sorcery can pull the image of the key out of the mirror. Not only does it appeal to me on a metaphysical level-- after all, I've tested the one we have, so I know I wasn't fooling myself-- I'd be fascinated to see it in action." He considers a moment, then says, "Although simply giving them one of their own has its benefits. It's a bigger favor from us to Khela personally, and from Xanadu to Rebma in general."
Brennan seems willing to go either way, but suggests comparing the key to the impression that Conner made.
Conner once more holds up the wax impression he made and compares it to Brennan's found key.
They look pretty close. Without tools or more-to-the-point, the relevant lock, it's hard to tell if they're the same.
One thing is obvious from looking at them both: one factor of this key will be the strength of the material it is made of; this is a key meant to be turned by someone who can really turn a key.
[Conner]
"I agree it would make a fascinating
experiment to see if mirror magic could provide the answer. However,
I would not like to be in the position of suggesting a method that may
not work when we are in possession of one that has empirical backing."
Conner pauses a moment to focus on his examination. "Of course, we
could try both. The current situation does seem to underline the
usefulness of a spare key."
Brennan doesn't argue. Conner is the diplomat, after all.
While Conner does that, Brennan Parts the Veil between where he and Conner are, to where they want to be: It is the large chamber with the giant-sized throne that he encountered on the trip between the Plain of Towers, and Rebma. The parting may take longer than typical, since the other end is under (breathable) water, and working up a Veil that rejects water in one direction is not as easy as it sounds when working with Entropy as the means. It doesn't need to be perfect, it just needs not to be a veil-sized firehose coming at them.
Given the circumstances the last time they took that trip, Brennan is alert for danger as soon as the veil is opened.
Brennan steps through. The cave is oddly lit. Brennan would've expected the light they brought to be all of the light there was. The shadows are odd, especially in the colored lights.
Conner stows the key and was mold in his traveling bag and steps through. Conner says nothing for a moment as he acclimates himself to underwater breathing once more. "So this is Paris's version of the stair, eh?" He comments. "Well I suppose it will become more grand in time."
"Could be," Brennan says, distractedly. The first thing he does when Conner is through is to manually (so to speak) stitch shut the tear he's just made in reality. They should in all good theory mend themselves, but a lot of things that should be happening don't seem to be happening in and near Rebma.
"This is along the way I took following the Eater from the Plain of Towers to Rebma, but it's not Rebma proper. I think if we head back in the other direction, we'd be in Paris. Which, if true, makes this part of the Faiella-Bionin, and our ability to part the Veil to it is useful information in itself. But I'm not sure what to make of that throne over there," Brennan gestures, now that he's done unparting the Veil. This seems like an ideal place to conjure a Key for Rebma proper, as well: Once we do it, we can in theory walk from here to there."
Having far more leisure now than he did when he was stalking the Eater, Brennan takes the opportunity to look around the cavern a bit more. The lights have piqued his curiosity.
It doesn't take much time for Brennan to come across a mirror. It's glowing, reflecting light from somewhere other than this undersea cavern.
It illuminates the stone that looks like a great throne rather dramatically.
"I mislike that." Conner frowns slightly and swims over towards the mirror but stays to the side so that he cannot see into it or be seen. "Did not Vere say something about the Queen of Air and Darkness being seen on a throne?" Conner takes a moment to focus and then turns his Third eye towards examining the mirror and the throne.
Brennan doesn't like that either, not one bit. He does not enter the cross section of light coming from the mirror, and does not focus on whatever image might be playing across it. At least not yet. He does take up a position on the other side of the mirror from Conner.
"Bide," he says, in preparation to perform some Sorcery. Brennan is far, far from an expert on mirror magic, but he'd guess that they work primarily on transmission of light. On the other hand, they can be used for murder, too, so it is not outside the realm of possibility that they could be used to eavesdrop. And then, if Conner's thoughts about the Moon Queen are correct, that could be another issue altogether. Her name might draw her attention, but if this is a place of import to her, her attention might already be on it.
He's seen Bleys shield locations against eavesdropping and scrying, but it had happened fast enough that he didn't get a good look. So he considers, briefly: the naive way would be a working of Space, to confine the sound of their voices to each others ears. But that's inelegant. It treats a symptom-- sound-- instead of the problem-- information. Not to mention that the Moon Queen is reputed to have expertise of Space, herself. Entropy is the fundamental principle at play, here, so it is Entropy that Brennan works, changing the rules so that the information of their words is destroyed even as they speak. But this is true sorcery, incorporating a true paradox instead of simply manipulating the rules. And the paradox is, Brennan and Conner can still understand each other.
What this is not, is a working of Space. Someone standing directly between them would not be able to hear them, if this works as planned. And it should not affect Conner's senses as he prepares to look at the mirror.
"I don't know if anyone is eavesdropping," he says, when he's finished. "But I just made that act more difficult, although it won't do anything to conceal our image-- only our words. Hopefully I will know if someone is trying to subvert my wards. And if Vere didn't mention a throne, I will: She appeared on a throne in my dream. I would prefer to think it was not that one, but one in the City Above. I would urge caution. Mirrors can be weapons. And I recall Solange saying that encounters with her Floaty Woman had the feeling of psychic, Trump-like contact." Evidently, even with his wards in place, Brennan isn't willing to attract undue attention.
"Mirrors are weapons." Conner agrees. "Merely subtle ones. My thanks for the wards. It may help."
If (or when) Conner investigates the thing, Brennan will stand watch beside him, to make sure he is not disturbed from within the chamber, or ready to act if something seems to be going wrong. He does also look at the throne, comparing it to the one in from his dream.
The lighting is more dramatic, and it doesn't look as big, but Brennan believes it to be ... related. Like someone sculpted the one after seeing the other. There are correspondences, but it isn't the throne where he dreamed an sharp-faced redheaded queen knighted a young Benedict.
Or perhaps this one could one day be carved into that one.
If Conner is watching Brennan, he'll see Brennan almost double-take, first glancing at the throne and then frowning and giving it more attention than he had originally allocated for it.
The man impetuous enough to suggest Parting the Veil, through time, into a Pattern Chamber says quietly, "Cousin. Take some care-- I may have been wrong. I don't think this is the throne I dreamed, but there is... kinship. The 'riders came down the stairs to Amber. This could be a warning system. Or a trap."
Which leaves the location at the other end of the tunnel somewhat in question.
"Remind me to tell you about a mirror trap sometime." Conner murmurs. "Now let's see what we have here." Staying to the side Conner first examines the mirror with his Third Eye. He has seen examples of mirror craft before and would know if this akin to what he has seen. Then Conner works a subtle warping of space so that the light waves reflected off the mirror bend such that he can see them without actually being in front of the mirror.
When Brennan perceives what Conner is doing, he nods in tentative approval-- it is the exact warping of space that he would have used for this purpose, himself. He opens his mouth to offer aid, but thinks better of it, preferring to maintain some separation. Something about this place unnerves him-- several somethings, in fact-- and while he hopes he is wrong, he judges that being able to respond quickly and without entanglement is best.
What Conner learns is that the mirror is a two-way portal. Light that hits it passes through, light from the far side passes into this space. While Conner is not a mirror magician, this seems like a moderately difficult working.
"When is a mirror, not a mirror?" Conner murmurs. "When its a door." Conner answers. "A window at the very least. Let me see if I get a clearer look." Conner continues his space working. He wants to see what it is beyond the portal without anything on the other side seeing him. Light and vision usually don't work that way of course but if it did we wouldn't need a redhead to be doing this.
Brennan frowns, then infers Conner's meaning. He does relax, fractionally, as nothing untoward has happened.
"Question is, where is the other side, who put it here, and can we get to the other side if we so choose? I don't recall this being here the last time I passed through, but I was... in a hurry. If it's recent, I'd guess Moire," Brennan says, stating the obvious. "And if Moire, it could just be something to let her keep tabs on comings and goings from Rebma."
Conner continues his working, which is more tiring than he expects. What he learns is that the far side of the mirror seems to be alternating between being blindingly bright and being pitch dark, as if someone is trying to interfere with exactly the kind of reverse-scrying Conner is working.
The only piece of concrete detail Conner can determine is that there is no one actively watching the mirror.
Perhaps it records.
Brennan watches Conner's difficulties with the mirror, in between looking at the placement of the mirror with respect to the chamber, the objects, and the passage between Paris and Rebma-- does its placement support Brennan's thesis that it is placed in such a way as to observe traffic between those two points?
After a time, Brennan offers, "Would extending your sight into the Astral be a useful aid, cousin?"
"I am unsure." Conner replies. "Will Astral sight let me pierce bright light and pitch black or would I simply be blinded in more dimensions?" He inquires.
Brennan hesitates, "as with most things, 'it depends.' Mostly, on what the source of the light is, and what else is there. If it's just mundane light, then keeping your physical eyes closed, your third eye open and extended into the Astral will probably be helpful. Astral sight is good for a number of things, but living things and metaphysical energy sources and their remnants tend to stand out pretty well. Sometimes, too well. If it's an inherently magical source of light, then that might still work, or it might not."
He muses further, "What should work in a situation like that is layering Entropy on top, to filter out the blinding disruption or at least to damp it down. On the one hand, I've not had much success with that approach in the past. On the other hand, I've always been in a great big hurry when I've tried it."
"That mirrors my own thoughts." Conner grimaces at the unintentional pun. "Only I intended to use a matrix of energy to add and subtract light as needed to maintain an even level." Conner comes to a decision and nods. "Lend me your Astral sight and let's see if there is a true cyclical nature to this light and darkness. If there is a pattern, then we can take advantage of it."
"Very well," Brennan nods. Ordinarily, Astral sight is simple enough that it is almost trivial and instantaneous. But in the past, Brennan has not had much success with what he's doing, so he is careful and takes a long, full minute to set this up. He knows that Conner is going to layer other effects on top of it, so he is careful to make it as self-contained as possible before announcing that he's finished.
Brennan is still not inserting himself into the effects, both so he can keep an eye out in the passage, and because the effects would only be diluted if he included himself.
Brennan completes his spell and is ready for Conner to begin his. He does notice that the throne/statue/blob of amorphous cave drippings/whatever is unusually astrally bright.
He can also see that the mirror only intersects people who walk through this chamber. A swimmer, one who knew it was here, could avoid it. That might not be obvious to someone who was less clever than a redhead, or who was primarily a surface-dweller.
Brennan notes all that to Conner, but expects Conner will be busy with his own spell-crafting. While Conner is at that, Brennan gives the throne-construct a closer glance. It's brightness calls it out as either having some metaphysical properties out of the ordinary, or perhaps having been exposed to something.
Having some experience with multiple types, Brennan tries to see what category the throne might fall into. Meaning, since he is familiar with Space, Time and a number of other Principles, he tries to see if its aura is reminiscent of any of those Principles. He also has some experience with determining the difference between intrinsically Real people and objects, vs mere shadows, so he looks at it in the light (so to speak) as well.
All Brennan can tell, without significant additional investigation, is that it's old and that it's more real than less-transient things. He can't tell if that's a cause or an effect.
With Brennan's aid, Conner extends his sight into the astral, carefully creating the entropy matrix he needs to match the rhythm of the flashing light. The pattern is simple, when discovered. It is a simple gem on a string, kept moving through trivial magics. It winds up and winds down, sometimes reflecting and sometimes absorbing light, and the periodicity depends on how tightly wound the string is at the moment. Conner's matrix has barely begun to match the tempo of the magical reflections when suddenly, they are extinguished.
"Such a simple device." Conner smiles in appreciation of the clever tactic and makes a note to adopt similar protections should the need arise.
There's still a connection, but the room is dark. It looks to be ordinary dark, at this point. The far end of the passage is a room with tall red coral walls, in relatively deep waters. Conner does not know of such a place in Rebma, but the seaward is wide.
"Are we discovered?" Conner looks to Brennan for his input. "The lights have gone out but I still sense no presence in the chamber." Conner takes advantage of his partly formed matrix to simply turn on the lights to a low level. If he has been caught, he might as well get a good look before leaving. However, Conner still has the memory of Lucas's fate on his mind and thus takes note of the mirror's integrity from time to time.
"I'm sure our actions are discovered, if not our identities," Brennan says.
"Seems to me, we could get there directly without using the mirror, if we really wanted to," Brennan mimes the barest skeletal outline of Parting the Veil, but obviously doesn't do it. Having established to his satisfaction that the device does not seem directly connected to the Moonriders and their Queen, Brennan is no longer erring quite so far in the direction of hazard protection.
"The reason I brought us here, though, is that in addition to being far enough out from Rebma to be able to work Sorcery, it's also far enough out to conjure a Rebman key. The one I've got is the right shape, but it did occur to me based on some of the King's comments that it might not be the right material," he adds. "And I wanted to get that done before we depart. So, here is a sketch of a plan: You finish learning what you can, and see if you can get a good enough fix on it for one or both of us to get there if we so desire. After that, we'll shut down our various Sorceries and work on conjuring a key. And after that, we'll decide whether to go through, go to Rebma, smash the mirror, or what.
"Sound reasonable?" Brennan's division of labor implicitly has him conjuring the key after, not while, Conner investigates the mirror. Pattern and Sorcery still, unfortunately, don't mix.
"I have not forgotten our original purpose however intriguing this puzzle is." Conner smiles. "I concur with your plan. I should only need a few moments to fix a location once the lights go on." Conner returns his attention to his energy matrix and turns up the lights where he scries. Unless disturbed by events on the other side of the mirror, Conner uses his power of recall to absorb the reality of the room for later travel and then cuts all of his sorcery and disperses what lingering chaos remains so as to not disturb Brennan's Pattern manipulation.
Conner is reasonably sure he could part the veil to that place, although he might want to be further from patterns than he is now.
Brennan waits patiently for Conner to finish his Sorceries. If nothing untoward happens-- which Brennan would qualify as the absence of shattering glass or Conner getting pulled through the mirror by Moire's clammy, clawed hands or suchlike-- he will begin the process of conjuring a key to the Rebman Pattern chamber.
He takes the same uniquely redheaded (or perhaps even uniquely Brennan) approach of conjecturing the existence of a key with the following pleasing properties: It opens the Pattern Chamber of Rebma, it exists, and it is right here in this chamber. Proving the conjecture is simple-- the key exists, so it is right there; the key is right there, so it exists. The act of proving the conjecture is the proof of the conjecture. This will take as long as it takes, but having done this once before, Brennan is confident that it will work again, as the proofs are very similar. It may even go faster.
Brennan moves through the throne chamber, looking around it, taking it in, seeing it as if for the first time. As he gets closer, he sees a key of the right shape exactly where he would expect it, which is to say on a chain around the neck of the seated figure.
He'll need a chisel, or something like one, to get it.
[You know, I thought seriously about adding, "And not on the statue," to the list of properties...."]
"Conner," Brennan calls out, nodding upward at the key on the statue. "My turn to do something that Fiona would disapprove of. Spot me?" Which is to say, bury him next to Cambina.
Brennan swims up to the statue gingerly, examining the key that he's just conjured. Because he has a long memory for conversations, he recalls one he had with Solange quite a while ago, about the effect that her Floating Woman had on her; because he has a strong self-preservation instinct, he avoids making eye contact with anything resembling eyes on the statue. He reasons, perhaps needlessly, that any unwanted psychic contact would be strongest at that point, and works to avoid it. Indeed, he avoids close inspection of anything resembling a face.
The statue is odd; from one angle it looks like nothing more than a natural rockfall, but from the entrance, it looks like a monumental carving. If it's natural, the coincidence is amazing. If it's artificial, the craftsmanship is wondrous. All the surfaces have the smooth edges of rocks that have been in sea-caves for a long time, except where they seem not to.
The key looks as if had been found in the stone and the figure carved (or magically removed) around it. It is black and pitted as if were old iron, but Brennan can see that it is not.
If he does't need the chisel, he doesn't use it.
If he does need the chisel, he takes care not to simply hack away at the statue, but to preserve absolutely the shape of the key, and to preserve as much as possible the style of the stone-- if the key rests in something resembling the folds of a cloak, for instance, Brennan preserves the effect of rippling cloth when he is done.
The folds of cloth are easily recovered and Brennan has little trouble clearing them away from the key in ways that would be hard to notice if one had not seen the unmodified statue.
The harder part is the figure's hand-- which doesn't look like a hand from where Brennan is swimming. The least damage he can do is to remove a "finger" which is blocking his access to the key. A few expert swings with a hammer on the chisel and the key is in Brennan's hand.
It's heavy. It seems very, very old.
Brennan gives the statue one last examination. Unhappy with the act of vandalism, he's looking briefly for a way that might let him change the formation into something that would look like the missing finger is just curled under the hand. If there's a relatively simple way to do that, he'll do it. If not, he'll turn away with some regret, but he will turn away and let it trouble him no more.
He puts the Rebman key in his pocket and swims back to Conner. "I think we've done what we can, here. And I don't know that I'm inclined to do anything more about the mirror at this moment. Onwards to Rebma?"
"I am going to assume that your level of skill just made that look way too easy." Conner replies. "Only one way to find out. To Rebma, and a date with a door."
In his heart of hearts, cold and black as the not-quite-iron key, Brennan knows he should prefer to be underestimated rather than overestimated. But as Bleys' nephew, he can't quite bring himself to correct Conner's assumption.
"Onwards and downwards, then," he says.
The road to Rebma is rocky, slippery, and leads through dark caverns. At a certain point, it becomes apparent that someone has been improving it. There is a chain attached to the tops of a series of metal bars dug into the ground and there are globes of fire lighting the way at the end. The steps seem to have become more regular as well.
The cave mouth has had a door-frame built around it in a post-and-lintel style. There are no doors.
From the mouth, there is a road down to the city proper. The part near the cave is lit by the same globe-torches that were inside; they're at about the same distance, and one might imagine serve the same function, as streetlamps in a surface city.
"I wonder who has been redecorating." Conner comments idly. "It would not surprise me at this point to have both Paris and Rebma deny having done it. Things seem to grow as they will of late." Conner eyes the clear currents ahead. "I've not actually walked this road to Rebma yet. I'm always coming in on trump or from Seaward."
"Neither have I," Brennan says. "I walked about this far, saw the path occluded by armies of Tritons and Huon's flunkies, and decided to Trump Llewella. And since urban renewal is the sign of a thriving, revitalizing economy, I know I'd take credit for it if I were Khela. Of course," he muses, "I'd consider this a potential invasion route, no matter how friendly Paris may be at the moment, and put something a little more substantial in the area than a door frame."
Brennan takes the opportunity to survey the area between them and Rebma the City. If there's an obviously Rebman patrol on the way, Brennan will suggest that politeness would dictate that they go meet the patrol-- otherwise, he'll pick out a direct route to the City. Remembering tales of the original path from here to Amber, his preferred route will stay close to the lit route. No need to risk getting crushed by sea pressure.
There's not an obvious patrol, but there are obvious places from which the road could be watched. There's also something different about the lit route. Possibly something having to do with the light. It looks like the easiest way to go is to stay on the path.
"Of course, the road that I'm not sure anyone has taken is the other side. The Faiella-Bionin is supposed to be a ring road, so where's the exit corresponding to this entrance?" Brennan favors walking and talking.
"I know of two paths that lead from Rebma to the surfaces of other Shadows." Conner comments. "Neither leads to anything I would think of as a Pattern realm though. One leads to Gateway, the other you may remember from the tale of my escape from Rebma. A place where Thari was recognized but not liked and a castle on an island protected by winds I could not shift. On occasion, I think of revisiting that land and seeing if sorcery can breech those defenses."
Brennan nods, remembering. "I was surprised to hear about alternate routes, but I probably shouldn't have been. You can get to Amber by Arden, after all. What puzzles me, though, is what Benedict said at the family meeting-- that there are two roads into Tir, one of which is Xanadu, and the other of which Benedict secures. The implication is that Avalon is another Pattern realm." He frowns. "Although I suppose there are two other possibilities: That it's built on another road into Tir, like the path from Gateway to Rebma. Or that it's built along Faiella's Gift without actually containing a Pattern."
Brennan is clearly not impressed with either of the edge cases, and not entirely happy with the main thesis, either.
Having brought up Faiella's Gift as they're walking on it, Brennan decides to make the most of their present circumstances. He takes a path that stays close to the lights, both for safety and illumination, and then pushes his senses into the Astral, if he can. If it takes him a minute, he'll slow down and do that.
If he's successful, Brennan will take a look back into the mouth of the cave they've emerged from; then forward toward Rebma proper, where he knows the Rebman Pattern lies; and finally will scan the horizon. What he's looking for is some evidence of path or connection or continuity between Paris and Rebma, and perhaps even between Rebman and somewhere else, in the distance.
It's harder to bring up here, as it would be in Amber or Paris. The results are not very clear, as much that is nearby is 'real', or 'permanent' or 'bright', or have the quality items have when they make it hard to see Astrally near them. Astral Light Pollution is the most scientific name he can think of. There is definitely a connection between the tunnel and the city, but there seems to be magic everywhere. Perhaps it's the breathable water.
"Is it known why it is called Faiella's Gift?" Conner asks. "I have never heard a tale of her being a woman of power yet this incredible piece of mystical engineering bears her name."
"I'm sure someone knows," Brennan says. "Her children, possibly Benedict, surely Dworkin. But it's not known by me. It's on my list of things to ask Benedict, if I get the chance at a conversation with him."
Brennan frowns slightly at the results he's getting from his scrying, and reports them to Conner so that Conner knows Brennan isn't frowning at him. Still, it's a better result than he's gotten before, and there are a few relatively simple things he wants to try before they're so near to Rebma that it's hopeless.
Brennan slows the walk down a little, and is intermittantly concentrating (and reporting the results to Conner) but he's not by any means concentrating so hard or so constantly that he can't carry on a conversation. One of the things Brennan wants to try is the entropic filter that he's not had much success with, but that Conner has, to try and filter out the ambient light pollution. Since they have some time, Brennan makes a number of small attempts, trying this and that tweak to see what works and what doesn't. The other thing he wants to try is to see if there's an Astral current, for lack of a better word, along the road they're walking. He expects there is, and he expects it to be in the direction of Rebma and its Pattern, which Brennan thinks of as "downhill" in a metaphysical sense.
[Sorcerous details: I figure that if they slow down a little, Brennan can extend that to a watch. But it's not a watch filled with one big casting; rather, it's a watch filled with a bunch of small experiments and tweaks.
Also note that just because Brennan *can* carry on a conversation doesn't mean we have to. If Conner's got nothing more to discuss, I'm all in favor of just moving on. Brennan does have more investigations he might want to perform on the F-B, but they'd take a while and just drag Conner down.... and for that matter, delay Brennan as well.]
Brennan sees what might be a current. If it is what he thinks it is, it seems to be running uphill. It seems related to the way real things look like bright lights to his astral vision. Perhaps there is something more than light to the astral state.
A shadow appears overhead, and soon both men see a twenty foot long triton descending towards them.
"Greetings, Generals. I have been sent to escort you to the castle."
The escort is efficient, polite, and pleasant. He is one of the Sons of the Dragon, and has only been in Rebma since the war. He leads the two redheads to the castle, where they are given rooms and told that the Queen will be informed of their arrival.
It's hard to imagine that she does not know, but the nature of functionaries is to function.
Brennan's physical eyes are just beginning to squint in sympathy with his Astral ones, when the Triton descends on them. He stows his observations for later pondering. And rather than trying to figure out whether "General" is a promotion or a demotion from "Knight-Commander," he simply accepts it, and the escort into Rebma proper.
It is tempting to use the opportunity to view the Triton in the Astral light, but he refrains. That would be rude. And there will surely be opportunities later.
Last modified: 26 April 2011