Steering Committee

Nothing is ever neat or without suspicion when you request full attendance of the Families of the Emerald City and the Seaward Shells.

Still, the Court is not overfull. Some long-dead artisan had rendered the palace scale to encompass and intimidate even this size of gathering.

Celina reviews again the list of families that had not had time to respond or tendered regrets. It is a small number.

They would all receive a personal visit from an Archivist with the speech she was now going to begin. ?Later, Llewella would send out the messengers with copies of the speech and results to far Seaward. Celina nods to the Senior Archivist and the signal is passed.

The hidden pipes within the Court glassite vaults blow Cetacean song at the low register and everyone quiets and looks at her poised before the Sapphire throne.

"Light every flame," Celina speaks at full volume and lets the design of the walls and ceiling carry her firm voice. "Let no tower, wall, or chamber lie in shadow for the fortnight of days that will lead to the memorial for our Queen Khela. The Queen has given her life in defending Rebma. She decreed I follow her to the Throne as her heir. Because of my love for Rebma, and inspired by Khela's honor and sacrifice I accept her challenge." ?Celina does not really pause to reflect the assembled reaction, even as the crowd's quiet breaks and trembles with whispered shock and comment. She moves to the throne. She turns and sits firmly and faces the Court again.

"All my praise to many of us who have given blood and risked Family, so that we have a small space of time to prepare for worse things than the attack we just defeated. Rebma is still in danger. Rebma will see justice for the attack brought against us. The leaders of that attack will see our response shortly even as we restore our strength. Most of you knew Khela even though she had not been in the City for decades. Many of you know me. But you do not know that Moins is my grandmother, Moire is my mother, and Oberon is my grandfather while Corwin of Paris is my father. Moire took a hand in my training before I knew she was my mother. I obeyed her in all things as Rebma is the Pearl of All Oceans and Moire was queen and Defender of the Seaward."

Celina looks into the faces individuals, measuring the masks. "I cannot obey the Moire who left us to die. The attack against Rebma planned to rip the life water from our lungs and grind us to paste. The troops sent against us would have searched the haunted rubble for treasure. Rebma is dear to me and I take up its defense in the name of my grandmother Queen Moins and the command of my Queen Khela. I will fiercely mark our enemies."

Celina pauses. "My mother betrayed her oaths to this throne. She is exiled from Rebma but there is no warrant to punish her further unless she returns despite this banishment. We will all be too busy preparing for peril to chase a failed queen."

Celina speaks more passionately, "I love this City. I love every one of your loyal and brilliant Families. I love our Art and Magic and History. I will die loving it and holding it safe. That is my oath to the throne. Having made this pledge, let those who will follow the Throne come forward."

Now Llewella flows into view and makes the focus all her own.

"My dearest Niece," Llewella begins, "I did not wish to ever give such an oath again, but as my daughter did, you have my support, and my hopes that you will be the Queen Rebma needs."

She bends her knee before the Queen and the throne. "I, Llewella, daughter of Moins, Princess of Rebma and Amber, Duchess of Battersea, do swear that I will be faithful to you and bear you true allegiance, obeying your commands from this hour forward until my death. Lir be witness to mine oath."

She stays down on her knee. Those who were at similar events for Khela remember a similar oathgiving and the court begins to prepare to give their oaths in order of precedence.

Celina replies in a personal tone, those close to the throne can hear her easily. "Dearest Aunt, I, Celina, granddaughter of Moins, Queen of Rebma, Princess of Paris, Lady of Amber, Defender of the Seaward, do hear and take your oath to my heart. And I swear to you that I will defend You and yours from every peril, with all my power, from this hour forward until your death. We welcome Lir's witness. Rise."

Llewella looks at Celina during the oath. Celina may or may not have seen a twitch or a twinge when she was swearing to defend Llewella from peril. Llewella's back is to the court, so if was real and not imagined, only Celina knows of it.

Celina swallows down the emotion that lifts her heart. She looks to the Court again.

As a member of Family, Brennan has considerably higher precedence than most of the people gathered, whether they previously knew it or not.

When his proper time comes, Brennan mimics Llewella's actions and oath closely, approaching, bending knee, and: "I, Brennan, Son of Brand, Grandson of Oberon, Knight Commander of the Order of the Ruby, do swear that I will be faithful to you and bear you true allegiance, obeying your commands from this hour forward until my death. May the Unicorn be witness to my oath."

(Brennan won't invoke something he doesn't understand, or at least that he hasn't met.)

Before and after his oath, he watches the area with a weather eye for disturbances, disruptions, or unwelcome events. Having helped coordinate the event, he has a fair idea what to expect if things run smoothly.

"I, Celina, granddaughter of Moins, Queen of Rebma, Princess of Paris, Lady of Amber, Defender of the Seaward, do hear and take your oath to my heart. And I swear to you that I will defend You and yours from every peril, with all my power, from this hour forward until your death. We welcome the Unicorn's witness. Rise." She nods with a small smile.

After Brennan, Conner approaches Celina and the throne. He draws Halosydne from her scabbard, kneels, and angles the sword hilt first towards the Queen. As Conner once promised in Paris, his head is below hers but only just.

"I, Conner, son of Fiona, Lord of Amber and Rebma, Duke of the Shallows, do swear that I will be faithful to you and bear you true allegiance, obeying your commands from this hour forward until my death. Unicorn and Lir be witness to my oath."

Celina smiles wider from the throne. "I, Celina, granddaughter of Moins, Queen of Rebma, Princess of Paris, Lady of Amber, Defender of the Seaward, do hear and take your oath to my heart. And I swear to you that I will defend You and yours from every peril, with all my power, from this hour forward until your death. We welcome Lir's and the Unicorn's witness." Celina rises from the throne and strides forward taking Halosydne in grip. She lifts it to point at the ceiling. She kisses the blade upon the green traces there. "Conner, Duke of the Shallows, Warden of the Nedra Beds, Defender of Rebma, we welcome your strength to Rebma in this time of danger." She pivots the blade down through water resistance and strikes Conner's left shoulder with the flat. She lifts it arcing the blade to cut water as it swings to his other shoulder and lands flat again. These strokes are quick and to those near, there is substance to the sounds from the blade moving. "Rise up, Sir Conner." She reverses Halosydne, cradles the blade a bit and presents the hilt to Sir Conner.

Celina notices that a twitch disturbs Conner's court smile when she names him Warden of the Nedra Beds.

Once Sir Conner reclaims the defender blade, Celina resumes the throne to respond to more oaths. The Court is full enough that this will take some time.

The court cannot manage to be silent watching Sir Conner with the sword. The more observant in the room notice that the Tritons seem fixated on the blade.

The leading ladies of the court, countesses and such, seem to be poised to begin offering oaths, but aren't sure there aren't more royals to wait for.

Conner takes advantage of the pause and remains before the throne after his knighting. "Bear witness, ladies and lords of Rebma, that I do formally accept the role of Knight of Rebma, bearer of her Pattern Blade." Conner runs the blade along his palm and his blood awakens the majesty of the blade as the traceries of the Pattern flare to life. "I shall defend Rebma. This I swear by my blood." Conner sheathes the sword, bows to Queen Celina, and takes his place to watch the rest of the ceremony.

When no further royals come forward (neither Meg, Hannah, nor Loreena have attended this ceremony), the populace steps forward, in order of precedence. It is a long exercise and boring, but if there is one talent a court cultivates, it is that of enduring boring ceremony.

The tritons wait until the end, and the high priest leads the remainder forward.

Lamell is not present either. Perhaps he is amongst the crowd waiting outside.

Celina is not at all mundane in her manner and eye-contact during the oaths, which repeat in variation like shadows, and seem to create Order even in their stately repetition.

If there is ripple of acknowledgement in Loreena's absence, it comes from the youngest Court faces recognizing that their elders have not batted an eye over the glaring vacancy. Boredom seems to be the policy of Court. Conner and Brennan can easily imagine the real excitement now is guessing what the new Queen will do with a Rebman High Noble that flaunts the call to duty. Loreena's declaration of opposition is bold, she will not 'follow the Throne'. But if Loreena's move was intended to undercut the day's ritual, it fails that.

Celina still appears fresh and alert when the High Priest of Tritons leads his people to the Sapphire Throne. Each Triton masses 140 stone easily. Some of them are even bigger, though proportioned cleanly and resembling champion wrestlers from the waist up. Just positioning themselves before the Throne, the Tritons' water movement in the Court staggers some of the on-lookers. It seems that a phalanx of Tritons indoors is rare enough that few have the legs for it.

Celina leans forward from her seat and meets the Hierophant's gaze, encouraging him to speak.

Conner stays at his place watching the tableau before him carefully. If this ceremony is going to veer from the traditional and boring, now is the moment.

The Heirophant speaks, in a difficult language. It is deep-pitched, resonant, and slow, well suited for communication underwater across vast underwater darknesses.

To Celina it is a cypher. It sets Conner on edge, as if he needs to oppose it, somehow.

Brennan can't make it out, but he recognizes it, in part. It's derived from Mabrahoring, the creole used between Chaosians. Brand spoke it, and cursed in it. As did Clarissa. It's the language used for contracts.

Celina pointedly does not look at Llewella or the Archivists. She doesn't know what the language might be. Her only guess is that the Hierophant is speaking Dragon. Perhaps he is repeating the ancient oath in the original. She gambles on his relationship with Khela. "Your Excellency, I am young. Do you have one among you to repeat the words to me in Thari, so I may respond?"

Brennan is less help here than he would prefer. Much less.

When the Hierophant turns and speaks, Brennan recognizes something about the language. "Cadence" is perhaps too orderly a word, and too strong. So is "rhythym," and a number of others, so perhaps "shape," and "viscosity," will have to suffice.

Unfortunately, he doesn't recognize the meaning, but the hearing of it puts his mind instantly back in the past, watching Brand hold court in Uxmal... and listening to Clarissa. His attention snaps back to the Hierophant, with an intensity that most humans would find uncomfortable.

He listens just as intently, trying to capture all the sounds and phonemes of what the Hierophant says so he can ponder over it later-- in the back of his mind, he is already wondering if Brand designed Uxmali as a bridge between Mabrahoring and Thari... and if so, how to use it.

Conner grits his teeth and he finds his hand on Halosydne's hilt without remembering reaching for it. He heard this language before during the fighting but it never affected him like this before. It is not of the order of Rebma. Working with the Tritons may prove more difficult than he thought.

The Hierophant bows in the style of his people. "It is not a thing that can be translated, Your Majesty, but I can explain. I promised you, in the language of our Mother, the fealty to you that we swore to your predecessor and her predecessor, as we are duty bound to do. A promise of reciprocal duty and obligation, as the oaths your humans take." There is a swaying amongst the gathered Trtions, and it's a good thing that only a handful are in court.

To Brennan and Conner, it sounds similar to an affine's agreement with a lord, although perhaps looser.

Celina nods once. "Your MotherTongue is beyond my ken and I am sad about that. The Tritons are many and mighty. There are Tritons that you do not speak for, who were not present for the Fealty of Long Ago? There are Tritons who are not swimming near enough to hear your words or my response. Perhaps distant from Rebma, there are Tritons who heard the previous Fealty and now are not hearing this one." Celina eyes the phalanx and makes eye contact with them all briefly. "I am concerned that the Tritons have not all one hearing or thought upon the Fealty you promise, Your Excellency. How shall you answer my concern?"

The giant fish-man sways in the water and it seems the others also sway in time with him. His answer seems like a lesson, rather than a conversation, as if he is more teacher than diplomat. "Your Majesty, I can only speak for those I can speak for, and I cannot speak for those who do not answer to me. However, Tritons are those who answer to the Hierophant. Our brothers, who are also Sons of the Dragon, are not Tritons. None who were bound under the old law are not subject to our oath, and any who break my promises will answer to Triton justice, as is the custom."

Celina replies in a cool tone, speaking as if the lesson shared requires only a rote response. "Hierophant of the Tritons, I, Celina, granddaughter of Moins, Queen of Rebma, Princess of Paris, Lady of Amber, Defender of the Seaward, do hear and take your service to be my arms and eyes and hold True Oath once more as sworn to my Grandmother. And I swear to you that I will defend You and yours from every peril, with all my power, from this hour forward until the Tritons are no more. We welcome Lir's witness. Hierophant, speak with me after the Court is ended."

Celina moves immediately along, opening the Court to the business of Open news to the Crown and Hearings.

....to be followed by the Close and Entertainments and Dismissal.

Conner stays for the Triton talking.

Brennan could not be dragged away by anything less than a full scale invasion.

Post-Court, the Hierophant will tell Celina that the oath they just took binds them, as Subjects rather than Slaves, per Queen Khela's decree. They do not seem to contemplate the reversal of manumission as a possibility. They have, because of this, no orders from anyone other than their Sovereign, their Hierophant, and their Mother.

It is well then. It makes things a bit simpler for the short term.

Celina will ask Aunt Llewella if she would like to continue the honor of commanding a personal Triton and let her express a preference for whom. [a new command resetting the relationship if Llewella has a positive answer.]

Yes, that would be her choice. She suggests he's paid by the Castle Steward, who should take care of those things.

Celina wants to talk to Atrios and Orseas [together] sometime in the next day or two. She'll make arrangements with the Hierophant now.

She also would like to speak to Moire's Triton if he is the speaking kind.

Speaking to Moire's Triton is on Conner's to do list as well, so he makes his wishes known.

The Hierophant will have an acolyte make all the arrangements.

Conner would like to ask the Hierophant what he knows about Amphiaraus, child of Oecles of the Second Temple.

The Second Temple is a myth and a heresy and was destroyed before history was remembered and there are no Tritons by those names. He seems very sure of that.

After the diamond jugglers conclude with a pitching tapestry of light, Celina thanks the Court for its diligence and goodwill and makes her exit.

Celina selects a room that scales to the Hierophant's size but is not the Queen's own suites. Accordingly, the meeting is held in the Court Armoire where the Groom of Robes adjusts the Queen's couture just before She enters the Court.

The Hierophant declares his clarifications, and Celina explains the Tritons she wishes to see as soon as may be possible and He promises to dispatch an acolyte.

Celina speaks briefly with Llewella and passes that notice of Triton assigned back to the Hierophant as well. Runners will also shortly go to the Court Steward to tie up the finances.

Celina nods when and if Conner and Brennan ask to be present when the additional Tritons respond to Celina's summons.

The day after the Coronation, Brennan seeks out Celina-- preferably at an early enough hour that he can circumvent whatever elaborate screening procedures the new Court might think to put in place. If he can establish the firm precedent that Redheads have priority, so much the better.

When they meet, Brennan asks, "How passed the first night as sovereign?"

Celina smiles and laughs, "Well, no omens in my dreams I think. I slept fairly well considering...." ...and she just leaves the rest alone. She points to the cushions and pushes her breakfast tray in his direction if he would like some. "How did you think our display went yesterday? And what do you suppose the official response to Loreena's snubbing the Court and oath shall be?"

She licks her fingers of jelly.

It's not what Brennan came to discuss, but he answers: "Loreena is a tool. How you use her depends on your overall strategy toward Moire, and what Moire thinks of her. How Moire uses her depends on the reverse."

An old campaigner, Brennan rarely turns down breakfast, even if he's already had one. "Strategies aren't born overnight, but what is your strategy for Moire? What was Khela's?"

Celina nods as if that is a fair assessment. "Moire played everything as opaque as possible when she was not deliberately confusing things. So she thought Loreena was a presumptuous and not too politically able pawn. I think Loreena is dangerous because she dislikes me a lot. Enough to make her movements very unwise. Which I suppose my mother would have said also." Celina cleans her fingers and considers the rest. "Loreena will be left free and stripped of royal support, since her duty while her seniors are absent would have been to defend her family's position. She did not do that. She did not either talk to me about what she would do. So she forfeits titles and treasury.

"Moire has 'borrowed' something that is key to Rebma's survival. I cannot have that." Celina looks resigned but quite fierce. She picks up her drink and sets it down again. Looking at Brennan, she only says, "The Pattern survived all that has come so far. It has many qualities and mysteries I have to solve. The Sapphire will get me closer. So I have to find Moire and get the Jewel back here. If there is some accommodation I can make with my mother, I will probably make it, but I will have the royal symbols returned."

"It's too bad about Loreena," Brennan says. "If you're right, and Moire puts no particular value on her, then her use as a hostage is minimal. Perhaps Rilsa values her more. If she's left free, it's a given that she will be in contact with Moire in some fashion, even if not directly. Her access to information will have to be very carefully managed. What would concern me more is her familial ties to the Tritons." He's not really looking for Celina to elaborate about that at the moment, but he'll be interested if she does.

"And while I agree about the Sapphire, that's not really a strategy. That's a goal: Retrieve the Sapphire, with or without accommodation. If you manage it without, and master it, the rest of your strategy may write itself. But what's the strategy if you can't?" Brennan asks.

Celina fiddles with the drinking glass, turning it this way and that to let the light play on its pebble surface. "I have a year or two and maybe that's just wishful thinking. Moire's playing the Long Game and I'm not about to play catch-up in her game. I'll play the Long Game because the Court expects it and the Queen must and I may live that long." She doesn't smile, but her face is relaxed to show plainly that these are not bitter words. This is her strategy.

"Huon bested Moire by playing the immediate to Trump the Long Game. He went in big and lost big. I despise his methods but I'm on something of the same path. Rebma needs help now. We are stricken like to Amber but we have the tools--or we did--to get ourselves out of this storm and to healthy waters." She sketches fingertips through the water between them, describing the Grand Curve Mirrored, as she sees it when she walks. Brennan therefore sees it as he does when walking Tir and Amber. "We have the Pattern, the Blade, and someone willing to live under the Pattern's Mantle. Me. I'll work with the Tritons and their Fate. I'll work with the Shells and the Court Families. With all the momentum around me and behind me, I'm going to try steering with the Maelstrom until I can 'sling' us free of the storm." Celina's dreams last night were of a haunted green ship and lightning and being the Second Mate at the wheel because the Captain had jumped ship and the First Mate was dead from lightning.

She points at him. "You and Conner will have to consider me as a threat if I let the Long Game warp me the way it has Moire. Then I'll ask you to remind me I promised to die rather than fail. My strategy is use everything and get home safe."

Brennan gives that last an appraising look, then settles for, "Let's start with a promise to tell you-- privately-- when I think you're doing something wrong or dangerous," as a response.

"But for today, I have to ask: What's your definition, or your vision, of healthy waters? Even when I understand your vision, I might not be able to offer up cogent thoughts about what to do about Loreena. But until I do, I know I can't."

She nods. "I'm asking a lot considering the mysteries of Rebma." She pushes the cup away. "Healthy waters is putting a real queen on the throne. One who can not just walk the Pattern, but wed it. A queen who works a strategy that spans a thousand years instead of one. Right now I am more Regent than Queen in metaphysics."

"As it happens, I agree," Brennan says. "Still, you've done something that Khela couldn't-- you've walked the thing in the basement and survived. Informed speculation from the older members of the Family is that Moire didn't do it, either, so that's not nothing. Unfortunately, the existence, function, and role of the thing in the basement is never publicized, so there's no public advantage to it. So, here's a question: Does Loreena know that? Rilsa? Valeria?"

"As far as I know....it is a secret," Celina says slowly, considering many things. "Rilsa is well connected and knew Prince Eric." Celina pauses. "Valeria has been away for some time. My adventures on the Pattern were done in secret the twice that I have done the thing." She looks at Brennan inviting him to follow this line of thought.

"My first actual piece of advice is this," Brennan says. "Be *very* careful with what you do about that thought. You have a bit of a dilemma, here: If your competitors can't walk the Pattern, and they know it, then your feat is demoralizing. If they can't walk the Pattern, and like Khela are not convinced that that's true, then your feat is an incitement for them to try-- which is tantamount to suicide.

"One death on the Pattern is a tragedy. More than one will be a trend-- and a bad one. You're aware of why Huon was exiled?" Brennan asks.

Celina's face suddenly looks ashen. The vibrant green desaturates alarmingly. "Do you see my failure to save Khela as an offense against the Family? I do not know why Oberon exiled Huon." She puts her hands in her lap, tightening up her body language.

"No. What? No!" Brennan frowns at himself, and shakes his head to loosen the cobwebs. Celina can almost see him physically rein in the spiderweb of his thoughts and try to put them in order.

Then, more evenly, "No, Celina. No, I don't. I had that argument with myself, last night. I was the one who put the key in her hand, after all. You and Conner and I all gave her advice, but in the end the decision was hers to make, not yours, not mine. When I was in a similar position as a boy, it was my decision to run away and take the Pattern in Tir-na Nog'th. Had I died, it would have been on me, not on Brand. My decision. My consequence. Besides, Khela was Queen, not you-- imagine her response to you if you took credit or blame for her decision."

Celina relaxes. She nods. But Brennan can see that he's touched a bleeding nerve. Celina feels she should have done something more.

Brennan sighs. "The fault here is mine. I was speculating without an end in mind, and let my musing outrun my thoughts. I spoke badly. I thought we might have a way to use information about the Pattern, but I don't believe that we do, only that it is a possible liability. Let me speak properly: I don't know what Loreena, Valeria, and Rilsa know about the Pattern. I'm not sure what should be done except to keep the damned place locked, and people safe from it, and the key safe in your or Conner's possession.

"And to your larger question, I don't know what to do about Loreena, because I know very little about Rebman politics," Brennan says. "I'm on much firmer grounds with metaphysics. What do you think is necessary to truly be Queen, and how can I help?"

"It is the jewel," Celina responds easily. "The scepter is gone as well, or hidden, it would be like Moire to hide these things so that even if captured, she could hold this ransom on us. But the linkage between Queen and Pattern runs through the Jewel. Other things follow from that. It could be years of study to fathom how the connection works. It is probably as great or greater a trial than the Pattern to understand the metaphysical links." Talking about the Jewel has started the razor echo in her hand. She massages her left palm as if it is sore. "If there is some place like Tir, that I can visit that furthers mystic understandings, I am interested in that. But not Tir, that is for my father and the Moonriders. I am sorry to be so young about all this...." She doesn't appear all that sorry. She looks angry and determined.

"Don't regret your youth so soon. There'll be more time to regret losing it than time you had it. And unfortunately, I know of no place like Tir-na Nog'th but Tir-na Nog'th. Or perhaps that's fortunate," Brennan scowls, and suppresses a shudder, "because one such place is more than enough.

"The other traditional method of grasping for straws is to cast the cards," Brennan says, then softens the statement with a wry expression: "I've had many occasions to use them that way myself. Especially recently. I've found it helpful to talk through as much of the query as possible before asking, and to be prepared for a long and speculative discussion afterward. I'm far from an expert-- for that you'd want Folly, or my son-- but I've made many castings.

"What do we know about the Jewel? I have my suspicions, and speculations, but there's precious little I actually know," he says.

"Mother never discussed it," Celina says. "The Court here believes it controls the seas and weather patterns. Llewella told me her mother once said it was key to Rebma. Llewella advised me to retrieve it as soon as possible. Which I have felt since I saw the Jewel on my trip here from Paris."

Brennan nods at the first part and is about to respond, but changes what he says abruptly, when he hear's Celina's last statement. "Saw it?" he asks.

Celina realizes she's going to sound a bit mad but she decides to speak of her dreams. She takes a breath and explains in as composed a fashion as possible her experience sleeping on the Bionin and wrestling with dreams of the Jewel lighting the night. Sadly, the Jewel's spinning razor echo lances through her hand all fresh when she gets to the part about grabbing the Jewel. She grinds her fingernails against her palm in frustration and to keep her hand from quivering. The small pain gives the larger pain scale and reality.

She finishes and looks at Brennan. "Now I feel the Jewel with me quite often. It is impossibly beautiful and sharp."

If Celina was expecting Brennan to disregard her tale, or brush it aside, she is mistaken. He listens attentively, even intensely.

At length, he asks, "Did you have a sense of time or space when you were dreaming? Meaning, did you have a sense that you were dreaming of a time in the past or the future, or was it the present? Likewise, that you might have been dreaming of a place other than where you went to sleep?"

"I thought it was actually happening," Celina warms to the topic, tossing aside reservations. "So yes, it seemed the present and began in Bionin as if the strange light had woken me." She shrugs. "By the time things were fluid and dangerous, I was so engaged I did not question other locales slipping into it. There was a tomb at the end." She wrinkles her nose, thinking. "Cneve's tomb. Which is not even a place I have been." She stares at Brennan now. "Moire might hide the jewel someplace so that she could be watched or caught and still have leverage on us."

"I don't mean to seem like I'm interrogating you," Brennan says, "but I have to ask: Is this sort of experience common for you? If it is, was it also common before this incident? Has it happened to you in Rebma-- or Paris, or Xanadu-- proper, rather than just near them, on the Road?"

By the expression on her face, his question immediately prompts her to ask something, but she sets it aside first.

"I dream almost every night and consider that rather common," Celina answers a bit too casually. "Not all of them are so potent or straightforward. This is the only the second dream that has continued to haunt me once awake. The first time, I was still a girl in the Seaward and that dream led me to Khela."

"Led you?" Brennan asks. "Is that a metaphor, or something more direct? I don't know much about the details of Rebma's political past-- I know that Khela was in exile for a time, but I don't know when it ended, or if her location was known."

Celina nods. "Well, I was a girl sent to Nibbeak, a school for the proper finishing education of young ladies. This was in the Seaward. I was there for a couple years, doing very well for myself when I had a dream about being attacked. I fought in the dream and when I woke, I had scratched and bruised myself a bit. So next day I had to explain to the chatelaine of the dormitory and part of that process got me put into a class for TaKhi instruction to calm down my overactive imagination. It took another couple months before my TaKhi teacher, Khela Khrop, started giving me extra instruction and workouts. I had no clue who she really was. And at that time, she had no clue who I really was. And neither did I."

Celina shrugs. "So 'led me' to Khela was a bit of a metaphor."

Brennan wears his best confused-Redhead face, and asks, "You, daughter of the Queen, were sent to a finishing school where an exile for treason was in charge of martial studies?"

"Ah," Celina says. She purses her lips and thinks for a moment. "I forget sometimes that I may be as little known to the Family as they have been to me." She orders her thoughts to make short tale of it all.

"I was brought up an orphan. Told my mother had died captain of a merchant ship in very heavy storms. The shell seniors took me in and raised me in the Seaward. If anyone knew I was the Queen's daughter, they certainly kept it close." Celina makes a small gesture because she still can't shake the pain of worshiping a fictional mother and the women who lied to her. "Once I was of a certain age, the Black Trench War hit us. I was still quite a small girl, but I volunteered at the hospices for veterans. Became ...involved in those stories of broken men and women terrorized by what was trying to eat the Seaward alive. I think my Aunts... my foster Aunts... quickly moved me somewhere to get me away from the War. Moire might not even have known about them sending me to Nibbeak. I'm never going to find out I suppose. Khela was ...incognito? And the class was supposed to be dance... and modest self-defense. Only those who take TaKhi into their lives find the disciplines or martial aspect."

Celina squints a bit at Brennan. "Everything I learned from my foster Aunts was some sort of camouflage. I'm not sure why Moire got me tucked away, but I have some ideas. She may have thought Amber's princes were trying to kill her offspring."

"I don't need to know why Moire fostered you away to say this," Brennan says. "I am certain that Moire knew where you were, if not at all times then with a very short time delay thereafter. If you won't believe it out of maternal instinct, then believe it out of Royal pragmatism. I assume there was no shortage of mirrors in your foster family's house." It's not really a question. "The more interesting question is whether she knew Khela was there."

Brennan sighs. "I can almost believe she didn't. Stranger coincidences have happened, and those of Oberon's blood have a way of collecting each other, metaphysically. On the other hand, the great genius of Rebman politics is that Rebmans don't make simple, clear-cut mistakes, only complicated mistakes which leave the rest of us to wonder at the possibility that we're missing something."

"I agree," Celina says simply. "I'm fairly certain that Moire would not have left me anywhere near Khela if she had the specific information. I had always thought that Khela put in for me to get the travel grant to Rebma. Now I think it more likely she did not and that this was a way for Moire to move me close to Court without giving herself away." She shrugs. "I can almost see why a Queen would sublimate her maternal instincts and keep a daughter hidden. I don't like the way the charade was played and don't know that I ever will."

"If you really want to know," Brennan says, "Find your foster family. You have the resources."

Celina puts that tidbit away for later. She really had not thought about what sort of information her Aunties might have about Moire's instructions. Could it matter now? A puzzle to be sure.

So she switches topics. "There must be a way for an icon of Order to be tracked." It is obvious she's talking again about the jewel.

"Tracked? Not merely sensed when nearby, but tracked?" Brennan asks. "Through Shadow? What makes you believe that?" Brennan very carefully doesn't say whether he shares that belief or not, and his tone gives no hint.

Celina seems surprised. She adds, "Because it is all so intimate. We draw to each other. We follow our imagination to worlds of wonder. We believe and invest so passionately in what we know. Surely someone who has seen the Jewel of Rebma can find it moving in Shadow? Have you seen it?"

Brennan thinks about that for a while. "We can follow each other through Shadow, of course. Anyone can, actually, not just Family members, unless we're very careful about not leaving a trail. That makes me think that leaving that trail is a side-effect, even though it's one we can influence with enough discipline. I expect that the Jewel shares the same metaphysical properties that would cause it to leave a trail." Pause. Scowl. "Actually, I think properly that we share those properties with the Jewel, but never mind that. But there are some limitations on that-- time is a limiting factor, and a continuous path through Shadow.

"After all, when your father went missing for centuries, he was found by accident, not because Flora had a special Corwin detector," Brennan says. "And, no, I haven't. Not that I know of."

Celina immediately sees her error. Moving anchors of Order drew to each other. Moving anchors left a wake behind. The Jewel would not be moving. No, likely hidden somewhere. Becalmed silent and deep.

Celina exhales slowly, without a trace of bubbles. "I see. It did not occur to me. Neither did the example of my Father's death inspiring people to look for him. I mean to say, in the stories I heard, he was dead. Eric was going to be the King. Then Corwin reappeared after being gone for long enough to be forgotten. It makes sense someone might have looked for him...which was a failure." She twines her fingers together and releases some tension.

"Well..... pearls!" She frowns. "Conner has been in Rebma a long time. He has seen it. I've seen it but never really studied it as a powerful thing in its own right. And I cannot easily wander off looking for it." She looks back at him, then smiles. "I thought somehow that it would be the Jewel that could... educate us."

"Oh, I suspect it can," Brennan says. "Once we have it, but probably not before. I've been giving serious thought as to how to find it, but every thought I've had revolves around luck-- being in the right place at the right time... and being vigilant in the right place at the right time.

"And then, there are the indirect, untrustworthy methods, like Trump casting for inspiration," he says.

"Folly did that for me in Paris," Celina offers. "It...." She ponders the right word. "Did seem inspired as far as the question I asked." She sighs. "But did not help me at all with what just happened to destroy my happiness." She just pushes it back again to the place she's holding the anger and ruins. She takes up the conversation shift as if she'd not said anything about Khela. "I suppose that could be a good use of time, since I am bound here for a while. Though I'm sure Folly won't come visit me here for a few years. Merlin will be back some day."

Brennan looks oddly at Celina: "You're not suggesting that you need Folly to do a casting, are you? I find it useful to perform them in the presence of one or two others, to have people to bounce ideas off, but anyone can perform them."

Celina grimaces. She gently holds the bridge of her nose with one hand. "Ah...no. Somehow I thought that someone who really had affinity for the cards needed to be present. It's moments like this that.... nevermind." She straightens up. "I have no cards. Are you interested in helping me?"

Brennan gives a lopsided grin. "It might be necessary to be Family, but as far as I know, nothing more is required but study and an open mind. Yes, of course I'm willing to help, but bear a few things in mind: First, I have some experience with casting, but I'm not the most experienced in the Family at reading them, even in our generation. I would have said Cambina, but now... probably my son, or Folly, or Brita. Also, I have a deck, but only the lesser cards, the fortunes, are complete. The true Trump portion is incomplete, so the reading will be even more cryptic than normal.

"And third," he continues, "unlike Pattern and Sorcery, I have no notion of why Trump casting works as it does. As a result, I don't really trust it... but like all the Family, I arrogantly assume that I can handle any trouble they get me into and I'll come out the better for it."

Celina grins. "So tell me then, you do not seem to feel the Lesser cards are without potency ....I have none at all. From what I have seen of a spread, not having the complete Trumps will not bother me. And you would not suggest a course just to confuse me moreover with information I cannot use. So does this idea of tracking the Jewel have some hidden linkage to Trump scrying that you would point out to me?"

"No, not that I know of. Just pointing out the limits of my knowledge-- there's a lot I don't know about the Pattern and Sorcery, but I can usually come up with a good conjecture. With Trumps, there's a lot I don't know," Brennan says. "I flatly do not know why they act as a scrying device, or even whether that's a side effect, an intended use, or a defect in their design."

He sighs. "On the rare occasions I talk to Dworkin, I usually have more pressing questions."

Celina nods. "He taught Folly. He's the ...", she tastes for a word and nothing seems to fit. Then she just looks at Brennan. "He's what?"

"The? I'm not sure I want to put a label like that on him. Not that it would limit him so much as it would limit how I think of him," Brennan says. "He's our great grandfather, by way of Oberon. He drew the Primal Pattern, which I think you knew. And the original Trumps, which I think you knew. He is-- or was-- a Lord of the Living Void, if I understand things correctly. Beyond that? Ask him, and good luck to you figuring out the answer."

Celina smiles quite a bit. It expands her eyes somehow, rather than compressing them smaller as with many smiles. "I think I must ask him. I'll put it on my list." She pulls up her knees and sets feet to the cushions then wrapping her hands about her shins. Her chin hovers near her knee caps and she says, "So the cards are his and they mirror the way he frames our Order. He started all this."

"So I have been told," Brennan says. "It was a few years before my time. Do ask him, by all means, although you may find yourself with other pressing questions of your own by the time you see him. His time has a way of being more precious to the rest of us than it seems to him. So: Trumps and Pattern, powers of Order, implemented by Dworkin. Sorcery and Shapeshifting, powers of Chaos, which depending on who you listen to are either in opposition to Order and existing prior to it, or are in reaction to it, remnants of a prior scheme constrained by the new one.

"What I don't understand is, where do Mirrors fit," Brennan asks.

"Well," Celina seems less delighted at talk of mirrors, "I will answer that to my best ability, given that I was taught the craft by my mother and she's a liar."

She looks at Brennan to see what he makes of that caveat.

Brennan shrugs. "There's nothing to be done about that, except to not take anything at face value, and verify everything we can independently."

Brennan may possibly have had some experience with duplicitous parents in the past.

Celina will smile and begin with how much time and energy goes into planning a quality mirror. Days of calculation lead to a model or how the mirror elements will bond and attain a final shape. The shape of the mirror affects the clarity of all information to flow from it. The strength of the bond of the parts is directly connected to the stability of pressing one's will into the mirror structure without shattering the energy in all directions. It is an Order of geometry and energy. If Trump allows two people to touch each other across time and distance....then Celina explains that Mirror allows for an adept to connect two shapes of glass, energized by the adept to see between. Mirror is sight and shape, not mind and not personality.

She sips a drink. Then sounds a cautionary note that separates a novice from an adept. Once you ken awareness of reflecting surfaces, there are dangers involving mind and personality in using flawed Mirror paths. The adept energy has flavors and every mirror has flaws and you must beware the two in conflict.

Celina keeps her comments quick and concise, obviously skipping most of the details.

Celina describes how Order can exist in several places at once aided by visualizing known geometry. Or scrying. Order may be recalled from uncertainty and images can be replayed. Order can place real objects inside of mirrors. Dreams can also play across the shapes of Mirrors, but that is decidedly outside the range of normal practice. "I think Pattern and Mirrors are very much related."

Brennan listens carefully, and without overt interruption... although Celina can tell by his expression that Brennan is absorbing as much of the mathematics behind mirror work as he can, on the fly, without taking notes. And his eyes narrow at the mention of placing objects, or dreams, in actual mirrors.

But what he says, once Celina is done with her precis, is: "I'm going to ask the simplest of all possible questions: Do they work in Rebma, and other Pattern realms?"

"Well, yes they do. They work everywhere I have been so far." Celina continues to watch his expression, because it seems like he's going to make a further point.

"So I had understood," Brennan says. "But I wanted to be certain. Sorcery and Pattern don't-- or when they do, they do so with greatly reduced effect. It's damned difficult to shift probabilities or even shift away through Shadow when you're near a Pattern. And Sorcery?" he shakes his head. "I'm not sure about Shapeshifting, but I'd guess that's similarly difficult. But not Trump, and apparently, not Mirrors-- those work. Why? And for that matter, is Mirror work another creation of Dworkin's, or something else?"

Brennan doesn't really expect a simple answer to those questions, but Celina surely has more insight than Brennan does. "For that matter, are Mirrors restricted by blood to the Rebman Royal Family, as Trumps and Pattern are to Amber's?"

Brennan's question is a good one and not one she's spent time thinking on. But immediately her thoughts flash on the attempt by Merlin and she to catch Dara unawares with a mirror scry. They'd succeeded in the hybrid scry and Dara had not been aware, but the woman with Dara; a seagreen woman that Celina did not recognize as Court at all, had been aware and blocked the scry. "No," she says slowly, "there are mirror wrights not of the royal line, I'm almost certain. I have to make other inquiries in Rebma to confirm their skill. I dare say that having Pattern makes the Mirror work a higher order of potency. I may have more muscle than my mother, but not nearly her skills." She offers a feeling, it's all she has at the moment. "Pattern is a fixed location. It exists in definition of location. Mirror involves location and spatial relationship as well. They seem compatible. I can tell you I've combined Sorcery with Mirror in stable results that seem better than either alone. Not that my Sorcery is all that special or learned."

She wonders if the Chaos foundation of Sorcery results in those strange unsettling whiplash moments in her dreams. Or perhaps even the Crimson Nightmare version of herself in the Mirror from her graduation exercises.

Brennan looks as though he might interrupt when Celina describes the Pattern as being in a definition of location, rather than simply being a definition of location, but though he shifts slightly in his seat, he keeps his peace. "I find it interesting that Sorcery and Mirror work can be combined. It's been my experience that Order and Chaos collide rather painfully." Fascinating might be a better word. "Where did you learn Sorcery?"

"You learned from your father? I learned once the TaKhi routines had so opened my inner world that I needed the extra Discipline of the Greater Conduit." Celina shrugs. "Khela taught me. I think it was then that she began to suspect who I might be." She nods. "And yes, with what I've learned, it is very intriguing that Sorcery and Mirror should compliment. Is it possible that Mirror balances because it does not incorporate Will into its substance? That is.... Mirror is a clean vessel of Willpower. So you can pour Sorcery through it?"

Two short, sharp barks of laughter later, Brennan says, "Ah, no. Not Brand. Brand never taught me a damned thing."

Brennan regards Celina for a moment, with his head tilted to the side, considering something. Eventually he reaches a decision, because when he speaks again, it's in a noticeably different cadence-- not exaggerated, merely different. "What is the universe, Celina, and how do you know it?"

Her eyes widen and some thought twists behind her bright green stare. Brennan might think he's shocked her but her mouth tightens or smothers an angry response. Her face shifts into a half frown and when she answers it is a soft voice pitched for bedroom chat, "The universe is insatiable appetite spinning on the back of a giant neglect. If you wonder at it, then it crushes you. If you don't bully it, then it beats you. If you amaze it and keep your soft bits out of its maw, you may do all right with it, but you don't turn your back on the universe and give it a free bite. I know it by the dead, damaged, and scarred in this Family. I know it by your bark. I know it is larger than my imagination, and so I know it must become my bitch."

In his normal cadences again, Brennan says, "That's how my grandmother began her training sessions with me. Brand never knew, I don't think-- I'm sure he'd have put a stop to it, somehow, if he knew. I was wondering if your training under Khela was similar, but I suspect from your expression that it was not.

"I'm not sure how good a Sorcerer Khela was, or how extensive your training. But I am willing to trade knowledge of Sorcery for knowledge of Mirrorwork. I think we'll both benefit... and I think both Amber and Rebma will as well. I am still convinced that understanding Mirrorwork is key to understanding Rebma, and perspective benefits both of us," Brennan says.

"Are you willing to trade knowledge of Pattern for what I can teach of Mirror?" Her voice is a bit softer as if it was Clarissa's tone which had thrown her off stride in Brennan's question. "For it seems to me that Rebma needs Pattern study more than Sorcery. Regardless...." Celina holds up her hands and reaches to Brennan, stopping half way between them. "....I can but think I shall learn whatever you can share."

"Of course," Brennan says. He seems very slightly surprised. "I warn you, though, I have no real training, there. Only harsh experience, and many years of trial and error."