The parting formalities have all been made, the court, Kings, and embassy left, and Khela and Celina and their party part from their Parisian escort and begin their travels back to Rebma. The small escort is made of two minor noble's sons from the embassy, providing an honor guard and bringing personal messages from those in Paris to their mothers and sisters below. One carries a torch, the other a trident.
Khela follows, her sword by her side. They are not far into the caves when she begins shedding surface clothing.
Celina is discarding the Parisian layers. She sets the red leather boots aside because they make her smile and she enjoys wearing them. It may be a long time before she gets to wear them again.
"Your father is a fascinating man, Starfish. Moire underestimates him. I hope I do not as well."
Celina nods. "He has a son of the Extreme Lands and a daughter of Rebman Intrigue. I do not envy him but I feel he is on watch for Moire. Tell me your impression. What makes you admire him? What have you learned? He and I throw whirlpools off each other."
Khela laughs. "I did not say I admired him, but that he fascinates me. He combines childishness with the wisdom of hundreds of decades, and I have not yet learned how to read him. He will be my neighbor forever, so I consider him a fit subject to study.
She steps between two cave columns, not because it is necessary, but because she can. She swings herself around so that she faces Celina. "I learned he likes to be flattered, but knows when he is being flattered and does not let it affect him. Unless he wants to let it."
Celina laughs at the image. She quickly puts a hand over her mouth...even as she was taught in Seaward. A habit that Rebmans find strange. "Fascination. My family is truly that." She lets her eyes run the line of Khela's body, giving her that compliment again.
Celina finds the column framing device around Khela something that she should mention to Merlin. Khela will need a trump. A queen has to be included in the Family gossip of necessity. The waters reflect dangerously in Khela's eyes.
"He is certainly wise. I just have not the reading of it. I cannot claim to wisdom yet. I cannot find myself through his eyes. They are closed to me." It comes out much sadder than she wished.
So she does not stop there but quickly adds, "Who we see first in Rebma has great bearing on what follows. Let us see the people first, then the Legions that toiled including Tritons before taking on the private meetings? I plan on forgiving Loreena in some small public way. Who do you have to forgive, my love?"
Khela swings around the column and heads down the next bit, not quite catching up to the guards ahead. "Not Loreena, you've got that covered. There are limits, of course. Not Huon, not Moire. Not some people who helped them. Support is fine, I think. We need to move past this war. Do you have someone in mind?"
It's not clear which suggestion she's asking about.
Celina answers in equally murky fashion. "Your friends from decades ago who will be shocked you are alive? Who were young and escaped the severity of your punishment? Youthful allies and lovers who did not rescue you?"
Khela laughs. "I shouldn't be surprised that going to Paris and seeing your father would bring out the morose in you. If I were to create a wonder-city from my imagination, it certainly wouldn't have catacombs filled with centuries worth of dead bodies.
She takes a deep breath and starts ticking off fingers. "My mother and I came to terms many years ago, the dead and I are on good terms, and Martin spends his energies creating imaginary threats because he became so addicted to real ones.
"If I told him I forgave him, he'd assume I meant it as a threat to his family."
Celina stares. "Oh." She shakes her head. The fact that Martin is so opaque to her can hardly be a shock at this point. "Yes. I really can't wait to step on the stair again and be back in Rebma. Paris..." She thinks of her failure to find Moire. Pearls.
She moves forward and dances around Khela, deciding to be first on the staircase.
Khela grabs her hand and swings around her, oblivious to the steepness of the slope or any risk of falling. She holds on and swings further spinning the both of them dizzily around. She's laughing wildly, like a schoolgirl free, momentarily, of tutelage.
Like much of the intensity of Khela, this fae humor seems not so much a surprise as a reveal of stresses. It crosses Celina's mind again that they are so much alike. She needs to watch that carefully in court.
But now she looses a laugh, keeping one eye on the slope and another on her Takhi balance. She doesn't mind trying to make progress towards the stair even in the circles within circles. Her life is like that.
"Unhand me, wench," Celina whisper calls so that the escort cannot hope to hear, "or it will not go easy with you tonight in fabled parlors where I shall mete out your penalties with relish."
Khela does no such thing, spiralling down the uneven rocks. Her arms stay locked on Celina's tight enough to keep them together, but loosely enough to allow Celina to break out if she so desires. "You will, will you? It would not be meet, this mete-ing you plan for me. And I have never been one to take the easy choice when the harder led to greater rewards."
"So you think I offer easy choices, O Hardtaught Wench," Celina enjoys the circling dance more as the slope and rocks become difficult. Dances may soon be hard to come by. "We are educated then that the penalties must become severe and challenging. We thank you for your patience with us."
Celina feels a small rush of wonder. Dances. They could introduce new interpretations of dances to the Court. She communicates some of her joy and excitement through the waves of grip and relax that do not really bind Khela to her as they cycle.
She begins to add complex steps to the motion down towards history.
Khela's laugh is unforced, and she joins in. She releases Celina's left arm and, spins underneath her own, then allows Celina's continuing motion to unwind them.
The dance brings them to a halt at a flat area. Khela seems a bit flushed, but not out of breath. "One day we will be rulers of a kingdom where we can bring minstrels instead of guards on our state visits." She looks at her guards. "We shall camp here for the night, and continue to Rebma tomorrow."
Celina thinks this is a place people have camped before. There are signs of it. It's almost certainly where Celina slept when she came up from Remba the first time.
Minstrels instead of guards. Yes. There is a future. We just need to get through some very hard currents.
Celina examines the site and recognizes a few stone formations she noted in bedding down last time. With only two guards and the unexpected nearing with each step towards the throne of Rebma, Celina decides to sleep very little. But she goes through the motions, helping arrange the victuals and camp.
Conner comes to her thoughts as she relaxes after the evening meal. Celina thinks about the matter of time and how traveling into shadow to search a matter of Substance does not respect the clock of Xanadu or Paris. She doesn't want to wait a few years for Conner's return.
Which like a spiral brings her mind back to sparks and Patterns, locked doors and exhilarations. "Khela, do you have a lockmaster in mind or some other plan?" She moderates her voice as if she is talking about the court...or a stubborn bit of baggage that needs to be opened. There are at least two levels of privacy to watch here.
Khela doesn't respond. Celina turns to look and Khela has risen. She's walking towards a light, which is coming from a small cave opening between two stone formations. The light is silvery like the moon. The guards aren't moving.
Celina's hand slides into her hip pouch and palms a small handful of her dazzle beads. She runs a finger over the palm mirror in there but leaves it hidden. She rises, keeping her eyes focused mainly on Khela, in case the moonlight itself has some hypnotic power to compel. "Khela? Can you hear me?"
Celina closes the distance, sure footed, her toes gripping the rocks with tension. She slips into a shadow mirror with Khela's slow walk, holding balance directly behind her tall lover and matching her pace.
Khela walks into the moonlit cave, bright beyond anything normal at this depth, and approaches a tall stone throne. She climbs it and turns to sit. She smiles at Celina, and pats the rocky bench beside her, indicating where she wishes the Seaward lass to sit.
Details. Details. She's not answering. That's probably not Khela. And time doesn't just stop midway between two Pattern realms. So I've dropped into sleep or something more intensely surreal, like those intangibles that Conner and I were discussing in Paris. Celina moves to close with Surreal Khela. She reads Khela's face closely for alien imperfections, even knowing it would be Celina's own mind supplying the details of the familiar face.
She has the slightest of dark circles under her eyes, as if she were working too hard. Her hair is slightly mussed, but not to the point where she will actually do something about it.
Rather than asking again, Celina glides through the moonlit water until she standing before the tall throne. She puts a hand on Khela's knee, as if the next natural motion were to ease and sit. "What is this place? Who are you?"
Khela laughs, like a bell. "Starfish! Very well, let us play your game. This is my throne room and I am your Queen. My turn, then? What will it take for you to be easy with me as I am?"
Khela's teeth gleam in the moonlight, bright and preternatural in drawing Celina's attention to the center of the laugh. Celina levers upward and using the water as only one born to it can, glides into a soft landing in Khela's lap, facing her, with knees grabbing her fey lover. "Trust? When all of my tender parts are so seared? When we dance merrily into the maelstrom of a new Rebma to free an ancient wrong? Pearls. Do not be easy with me. Just be decent as you have always been."
The moonlight plays Celina's eyes, making the green silver traced. "Scaring me needlessly, on the other hand... Well, we already had the argument about not communicating well. Unless you think your 'throne room' is especially ripe for another round of disagreement practice?"
Celina grins in relief. She glances over her shoulder at the cavern. "Does this position count as mooning the court? Should we have your official portrait done with me in your lap?"
Khela opens her mouth to answer and fades away with the moonlight, leaving Celina kneeling on the stone bench, alone. Or perhaps not alone, if the hairs on the back of her neck are anything to go by.
Celina feels lighter as the flesh melts from beneath her. She runs the fingernails of her left hand down the back of the stone seat where Khela just was. Shifting her center, she twists a bit keeping her hands loose, ready to strike. She looks for the Behindthing. "What weave?" she asks the moonlight.
Celina turns and in the shifting moonlight, the stone she twists upon turns a deeper blue. "Majesty?" says Conner's voice from over her shoulder. "What are your orders?"
She blinks and the water moves in front of her face. The courtiers are all present, looking up at her, on the Sapphire Throne.
Celina stares at their faces, recognizing many. "Conner, we carry on for the good of Rebma."
She grips the Sapphire throne and reaches up to see if the necklace around her neck is the Significant Jewel that Folly spoke of.
Probability. Pattern. Necessity.
There is nothing to say that the Jewel would be present in the Surreal or that Celina is Queen because Khela has died. Or that any of this takes place after having solved the Jewel's disappearance.
However, Celina WANTS it to be so in this moment.
On the other hand... She IS midway between two Patterns. She is harmonized with the Pattern. She is sitting the Sapphire throne in Moonlight Surreal and she does believe that an acknowledged Queen of Rebma would have the Jewel at hand.
Celina sees a sudden glow of opportunity in the turmoil. She grips the Sapphire Throne and reaches to seize the Jewel of Rebma hanging heavy upon her neck. Her fingers tingle with the Significant Presence that resonates inside her Blood.
Celina grasps the glowing blue stone, shining in the moonlight, and it's razor sharp. A million tiny arcs and curves are sliced into her hand in her blood from holding the jewel and she cannot let go. The court around her whirls, dizzily, or perhaps that's just the blood pounding in her head and out of her hand.
"Celina?" asks Conner. He grabs her shoulders and shakes her and she cries out without even thinking of it.
"Celina?" he asks. No. She. Khela. Khela leaning over her, where she lies on the sandy floor under her blankets. "Are you alright? You woke our brave guards." Celina's heart pounds and she's gasping for breath.
There's still a light coming from the cave.
Celina finds her hand gripped hard upon razor hooks and dreams. She cannot let go. "Cave," she whispers to Khela. Celina rises, brushing lightly past Khela's curves and staring at the light. "What if she did take it out of Rebma. She'd have passed right through here." Celina starts for the most light and the stone that would be throne. Her hand aches like a tender compass, pounding bloody memory of a million arcs anchored to her. The decision is already made. It wasn't her choice at the beginning but it is now.
"Follow," she says. Celina moves to investigate, letting her hand ache for the Jewel.
"Ohh, Mysterious..." says Khela, swimming, to her feet. She follows the seaward lass.
The cave is still lit, though the source is indistinct. The throne looks less like a giant carved sapphire and more like a giant uncarved rock, although it is distinctly throne-like.
Celina feels the presence she felt before, but faintly.
"Maybe here, or maybe only a door to where it is." Celina hasn't let her grip on the presence lapse, she hasn't looked to see if she is bleeding still either. "Are all boundaries overlapped here between two poles of Order? Or does Tir have a sister realm?"
Celina leans into the probability that she closes with the sensation. She explores the painful sensation of Arcs hooked inside herself. Her bare feet caress the rocky floor and her senses reach. The forward movement slows but the dance continues. She assumes this dance partner is spined and fragile, but she's never been put off by blood.
Celina finds the source of the moonlight. A small mirror. Nothing is illuminating it, but it's glowing from ... elsewhere.
Khela sees it as well, and moves to be out of sight of the face of it.
"Oh," Celina checks only for a second, but the size and placement of the mirror is too intriguing. She closes the distance and looks into the moonlight. The dance could become dangerous any moment, but she keeps a professional fluidity to her movement. She seeks a sense of the Rebman jewel here as well, on the chance that it has somehow connected to her dream from this mirrorport.
[I suppose this is on the order of accepting a trump call warily.]
There is something on the other side of the mirror, Celina is quite sure.
Khela looks at Celina from behind the mirror. "They shouldn't be able to hear me, but if you're in the beam, try not to move your lips. What do you think they're doing here? Just marking a spot or did we trip an alarm system?"
Celina increases her focus on the mirrorport. Is this unattended? Her eyes narrow as she tries to see through the moon glare. Her hand stretches toward the surface. She's read that things can pass through mirrors.
The Seaward Lass understands only part of Khela's questions. She extends her 'empty leg' that is not supporting her TaKhi motion to maneuver her toes lightly into the floor's silt. She draws letters slowly in the white grit, 'Jewel feels here' and then a bit more hurriedly, 'alarm who's?'.
By her expression, any observer would think she is alone and perhaps dazed by the light.
Khela bites her lip. "I'm tempted to smash the damned thing. Both to see what happens and to allow you to talk to me." She looks around, perhaps for a rock. "Some mirror mage made this, obviously. Either it's a beacon to help find something later, which fits your supposition, or else it's a system to alert someone when the mirror's vision is crossed. Or... or lots of things. Or it's a trap.
"My aunt is a mirror mage. She wouldn't have been able to do anything too complex with you chasing her, but this is the kind of thing you can set up a long time in advance. Can you do anything with them?"
Celina scrawls a quick 'yes' in the sand.
Setting her concentration, she carefully opens her third eye and begins to acquaint herself with this mirror. She will look for the purposing of it and see why it resonates with the Jewel vibration... or if the Jewel is hidden inside.
If this mirror is 'fast work' in this place with such poetry.... she'll be disappointed. There is a touch of thrill because this may be a secret she can put her hands on.
The mirror is blinding to her third eye, painfully so. It acts as if it were either a spell or a person or a part of something real. After a moment, Celina can look towards it, but not directly. It looks more like an opening than a surface.
Celina's pulse warms with further excitement. She smooths her sand words away and writes, "door ---> jewel". Her mind juggles the mirror aspects of person, sorcery and real Order and she finds those things and more responding inside herself to what is in the mirror. She doesn't try to pull apart the sensations, any more than she is trying to isolate the sense of Jewel that she is hunting here. Everything is fluid. Everything is moving and changing. At the moment, Celina is all these things including the pain vibrating through her third eye and deep into her perceptions. Her muscles and reflexes twitch away as the pain becomes even more intense.
She does not ignore the pain, like any dancer she just makes it part of the dance.
She opens her right hand and reaches in invitation to Khela to seize the moment with her; to go forward into the unknown of the mirror.
Khela grabs her right hand, and squeezes.
Slowly, Celina slides her left hand down into the opening, crossing the boundary. [Slowly enough that if the Queen forbids, she can stop and we will retcon. Fast enough that if the thing chops her hand off, it will only hurt for a few decades.]
There are two kinds of Order here in the Caves, perfectly balanced by space and well represented by the Real Daughter of Both.
Her hand passes inside the mirror and Khela's eyes light up. "Interesting. What's in it?"
What's in it seems to be a jewel on a chain, but Celina can only tell that by feel, because her arm takes up most of the opening.
The water inside the mirror matches that in the stone throne room, Celina can feel little currents as her fingers move. It's a bit of normality after so long above the waves.
She explores the jewel and the chain further. It seems to be lying on a smooth, irregular stone surface. It's slick, like marble or alabaster-- something made rather than something natural. The jewel rests in some sort of shallow depression in the stone.
Someone might be watching her hand on the other side, but certainly no one can see her mouth on this side with the mirror so occluded by her limb. Speaking is safe. "This mirror leads to a jewel that bears the shape and feel of Rebma's own sovereign stone." Celina savors the pricking of her dreams and blood in the razor pain trembling through her fingers.
She takes the jewel up, twining the chain as she pulls the whole thing back.
Celina starts to pull the chain out and the stone beneath it moves. Fingers circle her wrist, unyielding but not squeezing. They feel like they're made of polished marble.
Khela notices her motion and the sudden arrest of it. "Is it stuck?"
Celina looks down at the mirror portal, noting exactly how far her arm didn't travel. The mirror is still fully blocked. "Yes. Wrist grabbed. Guardian I think."
She narrows focus and her will combines with the razor pain in her hand. She speaks, but most of her effort is thrust into her will. She hopes to learn as much about the Patternpain in her hand as possible. "I am Celina, daughter of the Rebman Pattern. Who stays my hand?"
Without speaking, the hand starts pulling on Celina's arm. The mirror seems to be growing to accommodate the greater width of her arm.
"Wait! You mustn't go," says Khela, and pulls back.
"I shall go," Celina says, "because we need that jewel. And the invitation is apparently not negotiable. You will be safe here and I promise to return as soon as I can."
"Fine, I shall come with you." Khela pushes on Celina's back with her free hand and both women plunge headlong into Darkness. Sometime after her head enters the mirror, the marble arm stops pulling on it. Khela tumbles over her and lands a few feet past her, breathing heavily.
"So, any idea where we are?" From the looks of things, the two women are in some sort of chapel or crypt. The main features are a glowing gemstone on the floor by Celina's hand and a 10 foot marble sarcophagus.
Celina feels too many things to sort them all out. The main currents are equally strong. Her heart is awash in awe of this opportunity in this secret place. Her destiny is electric with the razorpain and vibration of Pattern drawing her eyes to the glowing jewel. Her mind is full of love and protection for Khela and Rebma. Even the promise to Llewella is not stronger than the three forces pulling at her in the moment.
She barely registers that there is no hand here to be seen. How did they arrive? Is this another surreal dream?
Celina answers the question with a mild voice. "I'd say we are at the decision point." She bends down with a gentle hand on the sarcophagus for inner and outer balance. She cradles the jewel and lifts from the floor.
[has Moire worn this since Celina came to Rebma? Does it appear the same? I think we established 'on screen' that the Queen had been wearing it, just double checking.]
[OOC: Yes, it's the same, and it's what she has been wearing, She didn't have it in Paris, that Celina recalls.]
On top of the Sarcophagus is a perfectly smooth carved marble relief of a man.
Khela stands up as well, and her hand goes to her hip. "You may be right, and I've been here before, I just didn't recognize it from the floor." She holds her hand out towards the sarcophagus. "Celina, Princess of Rebma, may I introduce you to your late cousin, Cneve of Amber."
Celina frowns, glancing at the still form. "That makes no sense to me." She sighs. "Blessings on you, Cneve, protector of Rebma and Dragonbane."
She notes how the carvings are in archaic shallow scrape style like bone work, very detailed but not fully expressed in three dimensions. Yet the hand at her wrist had been a woman's hand, just circling her wrist, not those large capable hands. If not those hands restraining her, then? Celina glances about to see if there is any mirror here.
Celina sees no mirror, not even the one she and Khela passed through.
Pearls!
Celina looks at the jewel in her hand. Folly had not said much about what Random had done or not with Oberon's ruby jewel to craft Xanadu. But mirrors are passed through. Indeed, Trumps are passed through as well. She studies the oddly reflecting surface of the sapphire, feeling an increase in the pain through her hand. Random walked Oberon's ruby. There is something inside the jewel. Certainly, another Pattern.
She nods.
Moins. Never dead. Wandering inside the jewel? Or welded to its substance because of entering when not strong enough to leave again? Moins? Guardian to the initiation?
Celina snatches her attention back to the moment. "Something grabbed me and brought us here. Is this where the sword rested hidden? Or you found clues here as to where the sword might be?" She looks at Khela and admires her poise again. Such lovely grace that Celina feels a tiny flutter in her heart.
She points at the tomb. "He had it. There's an inscription, here," she says, tracing it with her fingers. The raised writing is typical of Rebman carving on the oldest public buildings. "Here lies Great Cneve, grandson of a King and partner to the Queen. He died for his duty, which waits here to be taken up." She stands. "Which I did. Shall we look inside?"
[history clarification: the tomb is near Rebma, yes? but the sword was found in Seaward? I think Khela has not much said where she actually took possession.]
[OOC: I don't think anyone ever asked where the tomb was. No one knew where it was, so it wasn't near enough to Rebma for news of its rediscovery to come up. There may have been another reason why Khela was out teaching in that end of the boonies.]
Celina nods. "Oh, let's." And she moves to help.
She shifts forward and it seems so much part of her first step and not at all like the most dangerous thing she has ever done---she frees up both hands by looping the necklace over her head and wearing the Pattern sapphire. It's wicked and wrong and she knows at some level she's opened herself to an awful irrevocable thing. But her life is like the Pattern now. Never stop. Keep moving forward.
Celina does so and the sepulchre lights up, bathed in a blinding sapphire glow so pure it looks as if the chamber is made of crystal.
"Oh, pearls, that's more than..." a hand comes up to make some effort to shield the glare.
Celina blinks a few times and the figure atop the sarcophagus sits up and blinks marble eyelids over marble eyes..
"Oh, my Queen, I have waited so long for your return."
"You! I...," She points at him and slows, "We are here. What duty remains? You were faithful to the Blade."
"Never! I was faithful to you, always!" His hand reaches out for hers. "My duty is always to you."
"Cneve," Celina pitches her voice firmly, but as if to a brother, "You saved Rebma from the Dragon and I am well pleased. Your name and honor are sacred in Rebma. The Tritons still honor you. The Families remember. Amber itself is not greater than your Deeds." She does not shy from his reach, but takes dominance over it, placing a hand instead on his chest and continuing her forward motion against his marble bulk. "Your duty now is Rest. If ever the Dragon rises and We have Need. I will call. Rest now." She forces him back down, making effort from her Center up and out through the spine and down her arm.
"Yes," he says. He lies back as she pushes against his marble chest. He does not release his grip on her arm. His other arm comes up to her waist, and Celina is quickly off balance and falling onto the marble hero. "Yes," he says into her ear, "we shall rest."
Celina and Cneve fall through the lid of the sarcophagus, into the funerary box itself. The Cneve in here is neither marble nor motile.
The coffin is lit by the gem at Celina's neck, and she can hear Khela pounding on the sarcophagus from above.
"Celina?" Cneve asks, touching her shoulder. No. She. Khela. Khela is leaning over her, where she lies on the sandy floor under her blankets. "Are you alright? You woke our brave guards." Celina's heart pounds and she's gasping for breath.
Celina finds her hand gripped hard upon razor hooks and dreams.
The Seaward Lass shudders and the tremors just don't seem to stop...reaching to her toes. Tired, she sits up. Another veil? How many times will she wake? Or is she awake and this is a place where the rest of the cosmos sleeps? She rolls her shoulders and slips the blankets, climbing to her feet. Forward, forward, forward.
But Khela. "I am near alright. Thank you, dear heart." She glances around looking for the blue lighting, the tomb place, or the sensation of arcs of pain leading to Order. Sleep is a mirror. The world is a mirror. Somehow even the Pattern is a mirror.
There is no light from the room.
How many times to wake? How many veils....Four?
How many times has she awoken in this dream, unknowing?
She completes a stretching exercise and lets the tremors slide away bringing all back to grounded focus.
Khela mirrors her stretching exercise, making the amazing, graceful stretches that only an initiate can make, and only when she is underwater. It's worth watching, and Khela is watching Celina.
And Celina watches Khela, her own body very quickly warm and drawn towards her love.
"Are you ready to go? If we're all awake, we should press onwards. I'm anxious to return to the palace and make sure it hasn't fallen down."
Yes. Palace and a bedroom. Celina nods. "Of course I am." She glances at her hand, watching it curl in reflex around a spot of water the size of a sapphire stone. Her fingers throb with razor bits of tingling Order. "Little starfish," she mutters with some husk to her voice.
However, setting words to actions, she dresses and helps decamp. Images of important friends sail through her thoughts. Merlin, prince of Weird Birthings. Folly, wise adviser with Agenda. Conner, loyal to the Blade of Order. Khela, graceful siren of Triton emancipation and Royal revolt. Celina... she lets her mind caress that sculpted current a long time. Celina, a bit mad and touched in the head.
They move out. Forward to Rebma. Once moving, she takes out her own palm mirror from her travel things, seeking in it for Orseas. She holds a dazzle bead in her other hand, ready to cut off the mirror connection.
Orseas is inside somewhere, perhaps Castle Rebma. He's with another Triton.
Khela, not being distracted by using a mirror for magics, is surer of foot and moving faster.
Feeling as if she's patted a stray lock of herself back into place, Celina puts the mirror away properly sheathed. Her hand tingles and aches and her thoughts are very full of family and Rebma and danger.
A strong push and she is walking alongside Khela again. "No matter what happens next, I love you."
"In a romance novel, that would almost inevitably foreshadow you later trying to kill me. I love you, too."
Celina sticks her tongue out at Khela.
As the city comes into view, Celina looks for damage, defenders and any outlying foreign encamps waiting for admission to the city.
The damage is there, the defenders are, for the most part, rebuilders now, except for those guarding the remnants of Huon's army. It's all laid out in the valley below.
Khela smiles as she takes in her domain again. "The tritons are helping to rebuild. It's part of my plan to make them seem useful to the citizenry."
Celina smiles as she sees Rebma. 'It is a good day to ruin the rest of your life.' It was but a dream, however her hand tingles and maybe it always will.
Two young men of the Coldstream Guards are waiting nearby. They come to attention upon seeing the Queen and their escort relaxes, minutely.
"Hello, lads, how fares Rebma?"
The older, perhaps a Sergeant, bows. "Excellent well, your majesty. Are we returning directly to the city?"
"We are. How soon will your commander be joining us?"
The Sergeant grins. "I'd expect him to meet us about halfway. If he hasn't started out yet, he will shortly. This point is under observation."
"Very good," says Khela. "Celina, are you ready?"
"Ready, your majesty," Celina grins and nods once. She falls into rhythm with her queen.
It takes remarkably little time to get underway when the travellers are young soldiers and Daughters of Amber. The pace is quite fast and they are significantly further than the Sergeant estimated with they meet with a Captain of the Guards and his honor guard. His news is expected: nothing of Huon, the Seaward is quiet, and the Priests of Lir have been praying for her safe return.
"Very good. When we arrive, we will go to the Tritons' Quarter."
The Captain looks startled. "Downtown? Majesty, I do not feel it is safe."
"The Tritons' Quarter, Captain. I trust you and them to make it safe."
The Captain looks at Celina, hoping for a more sane option.
Which is something that comes close to making Celina burst out laughing. First that she somehow has a reputation for sanity, second that he would be so Bold as to think she might really speak after such a direct instruction from the queen. If it were not so funny, it might be unsettling.
But only in the sense of the dreams from the Cavern..... of which this might be one.
The laughter never passes beyond her fore-brain. She decides that Jerod would approve if she set a tone for such Looks, if Remedial. Now. And since he is not here, she will do it.
Celina moves up and offers her arm to the Captain. "We shall lead from the front, sir." Trapping him in the honor of being her escort and standing right out in front of his men doing it.
"Yes, Lady Celina." The Captain takes her arm and strikes out. His men move purposefully around him, turning the escort duty into a small-scale parade. When they reach the gates of the city, they have already been opened. Crowds cheer and Khela's only words are "remember to wave, Captain. And smile. It is an honor to escort my favorite cousin."
The crowds go larger and Celina notices that a few more Coldstream Guards have added themselves to the procession, in addition to the schoolgirls who follow along to witness the Queen's passage. Lights become less frequent and the houses and businesses less prosperous as they head downwards. Money, power, and influence can be summed up in Rebma by altitude and the procession is now heading away from it.
This quarter was hit hard when Huon tried to break the pattern, and there are still buildings where the debris hasn't been cleared. This is the foreign quarter, and the lowest part is called 'downtown', where the foreigners are not completely human.
Tritons of all classes wander freely here. Servants of the Crown all, but some moreso than others. It is not uncommon to see Triton clerics, their faces covered in intricate tattoos, each as personal and distinct as a fingerprint.
The guard is more alert now, and the procession is more like a detachment than a parade. The schoolgirls and the curious onlookers are no longer with them.
The captain points ahead to a building in the center of the quarter. "The Tritons' temple, my Lady."
"Yes," Celina's emerald eyes brighten with excitement. "It's so passionate looking." She has been nodding greetings as the Captain waves to the onlookers through the entire journey. Now she also grins. "I wonder if they will welcome us or ask us to come back when they are more prepared?"
She eagerly advances, taking in all the built details as she does and comparing them to the workmanship on the massive door to the Pattern chamber. That work is detailed in the strapping and bracing and she has not heard much about Triton crafts. Perhaps the Tritons know things about locks that they would like to tell her.
She expects the queen to take the first words with the clerics when they appear. Or signal that she won't.
The tritons build in stone, and build to accommodate the bulk of tritons. Intriguingly, it is not built as a human temple would be, with a great enclosed central space. Instead it is a series of connected curved chambers, or perhaps just one recurved chamber. It is a maze of overlaid curves and arcs.
The lead priest is, shockingly, old. Celina has never before seen a triton show signs of aging, but this one has wrinkles and is not a fast as he might be. His speech is slow, perhaps from that or perhaps from the habit of a lifetime without speech. Even his extensive facial tattoos, which extend to his throat and his upper chest, are fading.
"My Queen, you honor us." His bow looks painful, but it might be that any triton's bow would look painful.
Celina follows an emotional quirk and bows to the Elder stopping a hand's grace less deep than his own bow.
"Your Excellency, I have been delaying this meeting for far too long. Celina, this is Hierophantes, with whom I corresponded much in my exile but did not meet until today.
"I need your help again, Excellency. Interpreting strange dreams I had on our trip back from Paris."
Celina wonders if it is a measure of loneliness that Khela has strange dreams too? What will it take for them to trust each other or dream strange tangles together? Perhaps that is the wrong way around, for with promises to Llewella, Celina knows Khela should not trust her in some things at all.
"My dreams were a puzzle also," Celina says, eyeing the temple architecture in detail, "and perhaps some of those pieces need to be joined with yours, my Queen."
Khela turns to her, excited. "Really? You didn't say. I suspect that the place we camped has, something. History, power, secrets. We should really investigate it. But first, our dreams."
"Come with me, to the dragonheart, and we can discuss them," the old Triton replies, slowly.
He leads them by turns and twists deep into the temple complex. Celina recalls from the outside that it is a single building, but from the inside, it appears to be nothing but passageways.
He stops at a nexus of passages, not obviously different from any other, and loops his tail around a pillar near the wall. There seem to be many of these, and they may be the Triton equivalent of chairs, or at least pews.
The old triton gestures to nearby poles. "Now, tell me of your dreams, and I will tell you what I can of them."
Khela smiles. "Celina, you first."
[do the curves and arcs of the Temple have any resonance with the arcs she feels from the Dream Jewel? Which is to say, beyond being mundane expression of geometry, is there an intangible preternatural feel to the architecture?]
The curves and arcs seem somehow incompatible with those of the Jewel. These are almost serpentine in nature, where the Jewels's ... aren't.
Celina has listened to the oral histories in the Great Library of Rebma. She knows how long the librarians train in recitation and cadence, delivering history calmly as if they have heard it from first account or from their grandmother's knee, but with the fear or pain filtered down. It is like poetry sometimes, those recitals, the emotions evoked because you know how people feel when destiny rolls over them.
She doesn't try for that sort of elegance but she does speak from the passion she felt in the immediacy. She talks about Conner and the throne first, about the certainly that Khela was dead and the Jewel rested on her chest. She does not describe the razor pain of handling the Jewel.
Celina continues with the waking fugue sonata, finding the cave resonant with the Light Sapphire and seeking the Jewel again with Khela at her side. Finding the mirror, chancing her hand inside it, being trapped by the stone sarcophagus' grip and drawn to the tomb. The Ghost of Cneve insisting she rest now with him in his tomb. A trap inside a trap inside a dream, to find herself shaken awake again by Khela, pounding through the dream layers to bring her back.
Her hand aches. She finishes and waits for the Queen's dream.
"I think your dream-self has a pretty good grasp on my inner impulsive nature. What do you make of it, your grace?"
The old triton sways. "A dream within a dream is a sign of unfinished business. Lord Cneve represents the old ways of Rebma, those of your Grandmother, your highness. Death means change, either because of death or more probably, your fear of the death of the Khela-you-knew when she became the Queen. It is a dream of misgivings."
Khela snorts. "You need to get over that last one. I haven't had time to let the power of it all go to my head."
Celina shrugs as if to say, 'I had no plans to dream misgivings.'
The Queen takes a deep breath, stirring the water around her. "I dreamed I came to this temple, and it was alive, and it was afire. I ran through the halls, searching for something, but I was unable to find it. I came to a room full of mirrors, and smashed them all. When I looked at the shards, I had been transformed into a triton."
This makes Celina recall something of a dream long ago where she herself was transformed. Except it was not quite a dream. She studies Khela.
The old triton takes more time. "A harder read, perhaps because it is closer to my heart. The transformation represents deception--an image placed on you by others. It may be something done by an enemy to provoke you or to alienate you from the people. The mirrors represent how Rebmans see themselves. It is a warning dream."
Celina thinks for a moment. Which question? The story and the reading have created several. She sorts them out. "The mirrors represent how Rebmans see themselves? Shattered? Transformed? Or do you mean something else, your grace?"
The Priest looks to the Queen, whose nod is all-but imperceptible. "Dreams have the meanings we ascribe to them, Princess Celina. It could be the Queen's concern that she will break the self-image of the people, it could be an end to self-deception, it could be a need to cause change. You are nearer to Her Majesty's counsel's, Princess. What do you think it means?"
"Mirrors are compression of perception and space," Celina draws a frame in the air with her fingertips, "and therefore show things that exist, whether we see them clearly or not and whether we know how they relate. In the dream, the Queen does not see images, she sees the mirrors and smashes them. She is breaking perceptions before they have told her anything. It suggests she wants no more information but is ready for action or is afraid of what she might learn if she looks further. Or the time for further study is past and action is needed because the temple is on fire."
She looks at Khela. "You said the temple was alive? Was it suffering from the fire or was it burning with life?"
Khela waves her hand, not gesturing at anything. "I don't know. I don't really know what it means for something to be on fire, except theoretically. If you ask me, that's just fascination with your father's castle. But there's no reason that it couldn't be the other two things. Is there a difference between fire, rust, and life, other than speed?"
The triton is silent.
Celina realizes that a former teacher will always ask a question. "There is a difference. Survival might be the first Necessity. Or Ethics might be. In either case, if you must figure out which comes first without it being a moot point, then speed is extremely pertinent. I suppose you answered my question by saying 'it wasn't apparent in the dream'. So you didn't sense the temple was being destroyed, you saw the fire as the typical limited Rebma fire. So my answer is that you didn't feel the Temple needed action because of the fire, your dream responses were based on your own paradigms."
Khela nods and the priest is silent, the habit of many years for him, and perhaps for her.
"So if it is a warning dream, perhaps it is warning that you need reflection on your most basic emotional action." Celina looks at the priest.
Khela opens her mouth, then closes it and pauses. She starts again. "Deep TaKhi meditation? Well enough, it's always attractive to the initiate to drop into the state, but hard not to shy from the really deep issues, the ones that most need clearing to allow energy to flow freely. What, then, teacher, is my most basic emotional response?"
Celina waits a moment, since there are a thousand ways to say this that will start an argument. She really doesn't want an argument. Not at all, certainly not here and now. "You are alone in your basic response. The temple was full of only you and fire. The mirrors reflect you and transformation. The whole seems to visualize isolation." Celina smiles gently, "A theory only from one who does not understand her own dreams."
Of course, there is the amazing sex with me, but maybe that is only a reflection of your being alone.
"Not to worry, starfish, I'm gathering information, not grading recitations tonight. A warning against isolation is quite possible. I suspect that there was a point where my predecessor needed this warning and did not heed it. In some ways, I could see my warning being a warning against her path."
Khela is concentrating on Celina now, reading her moves and responses.
Celina outwardly has brightened and her eyes are more animated, because she's thinking about sex. Inward currents are equally wondering about her own feelings of isolation. Those lonely fears seem to have melted away. Her dreams were Conner and Khela and Court and Ghosts and Pattern. All these connections, Celina realizes somewhere she started to feel really good about being connected to things, no matter how burdensome and wondrous those things are.
Something to do with the 'orphan mindset' no doubt.
Celina smiles at Khela. She discards the idea of asking Khela's opinion about Celina's dream. "Yes. I agree. There was a point where She needed that warning. But it puts me in mind of other questions about my mother that I may work on later. In the meantime..." Celina flexes the ache in her hand, with certain intuition that she is getting close to an epiphany about Pattern, "...are there other questions to be answered here or do we move to the Palace?"
Celina holds the meditative ease of a deep TaKhi student: ready to move or likely to sit for another several hours.
Khela lets go of her post and floats to the ground. "The Palace, I think. Thank you, Holiness, it was most instructive."
The Triton bows, in the same painful way. "And we thank you. I am sure it will be very interesting to know how your people take it that you visit with me first upon your return to the city."
Khela smiles. "Come, Celina." And with that she walks back towards the door, confident in her path, even if the passageways look to be a twisty maze for the uninitiated.
Celina finds herself wondering how Chaotic each Triton is within the chains of Order. But a question to His Grace will not really answer that for her now. She needs to start with Atrios or Orseas. She bows to the Aged One. "Thank you for your wisdom, Holiness."
She follows the Queen, as always.
As they move back to the street and proceed, Celina moves closer and nearly brushes Khela as she matches step and pacing. "And what did you make of my dream besides it had a good impression of your character?"
"Hmm. Tangled. I'm glad you investigate mysteries. I'm sorry they drag you into long-closed tombs." Khela lowers her voice a little. " Did you hold anything back from the Tritons, out of caution?"
Celina lowers her voice a lot, as if she isn't really speaking at all. She knows that mirrors can also focus from a long distance, so she covers her mouth by reaching up and brushing back hair floating loose in front of one eye. "I did not tell them that I still feel the jewel ache inside me. It is as if it was always there but now I hear it, taste it, and feel the echo in my fingers. It hurts."
Khela nods. "I think your caution was wisdom. I think we need the basement and the thing you dreamed of even more urgently than we supposed. We shall need to see if my mother has heard from our other friends if their efforts on our behalf have born fruit." Khela's speech is roundabout, the other method to foil watching eyes.
Celina nods. Smiling then as if what Khela has said is an accomplished victory, not a loose agenda. If someone is watching, the overall air is of confidence or secret knowledge about to be put to use.
She turns to her escort. "We go to the palace. Resolutely and directly, but not as if we feel nervous. Captain, your men need more acting lessons. I want them to act as if they were amongst loyal subjects. It may be more true here than when we are in council."
Last modified: 27 December 2010