It is night in Rebma. Celina nods to the pair of guards now stationed outside the corridor leading to Moire's Mirror Chamber. She unlocks the corridor door and leaves it open as she makes her way to the inner door of the Mirror Chamber. A different key on another cord at her waist opens the second door.
She enters and checks the entire room and ceiling once, confirming the slivers on the floor have the same quiet pattern, the larger shards are covered and the Stable Mirror stands amidst the shattered grouping. Moving to the Stable Mirror she admires the clean lines and dense resonance of it. A glance at Conner's smile of confidence and she nods to him, turns back to the Mirror and runs a finger down it's length, opening the layers and looking for the connection to a matched Glass, recent history, or message embedded.
The crack of Glass exploding is bigger than the Chamber...far away... not the Stable Glass but another poised somewhere in a layer of the Stable Glass just out of sight. The impact staggers Celina. The hurt is deep and she crumples already reaching for the shards planted in her chest. The water clouds with blood drift. Then her heart just stops trying to beat around the seven inches of ice embedded. She feels the back of her head hit the stone floor. She hears the voice over her, sees a shadow of someone stepping through the Mirror. "Oh, girl, you made it too easy."
Celina yells to Conner and tries to arch up from the floor. Her body only quivers. She twitches helpless in slow blood fog. That's a voice she knows. Not Moire.
Celina wakes with her nails clutching her chest looking for shards. But she is not dressed and there are no lights and it is her own bedroom. She runs her fingers through her hair. Sighs. Rests her forehead on her knees for several minutes.
* * *
Celina smiles at Conner as he arrives at the corridor leading to Moire's Mirror Chamber. "I also sent a note to Llewella telling her we would handle this." She nods to the guards as she unlocks the door and leaves it open. "His Grace and I are not to be disturbed unless he calls for you."
Celina leads on to the Chamber itself, unlocking that door. She enters and checks the entire room and ceiling once, confirming the slivers on the floor have the same quiet pattern, the larger shards are covered and the Stable Mirror stands amidst the shattered grouping. Moving to the Stable Mirror she admires the clean lines and dense resonance of it. "Conner, do I understand correctly that if a Chaosi eats a person of certain skills, that this knowledge transfers to the Chaosi? For instance, if a Chaosi ate a Mirror Adept?" She looks at him.
Conner reflects for a moment and then shrugs. "That is more a question for Merlin than for me." He admits. "From my limited knowledge on the subject, I know that memories transfer through such a process which implies that skills could as well. However, Grandmother once spoke a warning about absorbing so much that you would lose yourself. I would think that absorbing the knowledge and skills of an ordered power such as mirror work would be a dangerous thing to attempt for a Lord of Chaos." Conner concludes. "Why do you ask?"
Celina nods as if Conner's answer settles the question for now quite well. "Because I dreamed last night that I got eaten by Dara, leaving you to fight alone in this room." She waves a hand to dismiss the notion that she is still upset by the dream. But Conner can tell by this that it was upsetting. He's become quite important to her. "The last time I saw Dara, she was with a Seaward adept with some mirror skills. I guess the recent turmoil threw those elements together in my hind brain and poked me while asleep." She gives him a sly smile. "Still... you should be standing over there on my flank while I activate this, eh?" She points to the left wall of the room.
"I once made a promise to Merlin that I would not let him be eaten." Conner remarks. "I make the same to you now. After all, I am much better equipped to handle Dara than I've ever been." Conner draws Halosydne and floats towards the indicated wall. "Wait a moment. When did you last see Dara?" Conner inquires turning back towards Celina.
"I scry'd her some time ago from Paris while acting Co-Regent. Dara was in conference with a woman who proved to be a Mirror adept and a Sorceress, dark skin, possible Seaward. I can give you an image of this woman who seemed a 'Daramenace' ally. A most disturbing bit of information, but I wanted to have some idea what Dara looked like, if she was working with Moire, and Lucas was willing to help me. It was back when I was trying to figure out who might be working with Moire against the Family and I assumed that if Dara could not get at Amber's Pattern that she might try to get at Rebma's Pattern. And since then, it became more than a guess that there are some Chaosi elements in Rebma's history." Celina shrugs as if to say, she's not sure why she hadn't told Conner before this.
"I think you might have solved a mystery for me." Conner grins. "Were the pair of them in a stone chamber and did this ally of Dara disrupt your scrying with a blast of flame?"
"Yes! That's exactly what happened." Celina centers her entire body language on Conner. "That's amazing. What does this mean?"
Conner chuckles. "This means that we both tried to scry Dara for the same reasons at the same moment." Conner grins. "I used my own memories and those of Merlin to view Dara through the Eye. I saw the ally of Dara turn away and launch the attack of flame and lip read Dara saying, 'What do you mean we are being watched?'" Conner explains. "However, from the somewhat random scanning about it was clear that neither of them had detected our scrying through the Eye. I decided not to give them the chance to find us and ended the scrying. At the time, I was satisfied that Dara did not appear to be among Huon's forces and did not pursue things further. A very bizarre bit of synchronicity."
Celina relaxes a touch and nods. "...I like the notion that I distracted them enough that you got even more information when they discovered me." She thinks a bit more and shrugs moving on to current business. "Well, my plan is that I armor the water between the Mirror and I a bit... bring it to life and look for last images that crossed the surface. I should get a look at what happened in this room. If messages or traps are here for me, they will emerge in axis with the mirror." She raises an eyebrow for permission to prepare, as he seems ready.
"Proceed then." Conner nods. "I shall intervene if it seems needed."
Celina settles her body energy in her feet and brings the strength up slowly through her body to her center. She concentrates a defense of Density between herself and the Mirror she's about to activate for viewing. The waters will repel the more they are pushed. The greater a force applied will increase the density in a sliding scale. When it all balances in her mind (perhaps a few minutes), she releases the spell based on her own torso axis intersecting the mirror axis.
If she feels the waters magic, she activates the mirror with a small focus chant.
Conner watches Celina carefully ready to intercede if things go wrong or perhaps if they go right.
Celina opens herself to the mirror and it responds quickly. She sees a small room, not unlike the one she is in. The elegant woman on the far end stops her task and puts down some papers.
"Hello, sister," says Rilsa. Her lips move clearly, in the fashion of one used to reading and being read via mirror.
"Hello, sister, thank you for speaking to me." replies Celina. "Rebma survived the assault by Prince Huon, barely. Loreena has left the City, but she was well the last I spoke to her. It is good to see you." Celina has no surprise for the warm relief in seeing Rilsa healthy and whole. The dreams about Dara and the terrible advantages the Chaosi might have over Moire and Rilsa have bothered her more than she might measure. The situation is bad but many things would be worse. "My father is back in Paris. I think he would protect you and Moire if you wish that." Celina is not used to having a non-practitioner like Conner present for this sort of silent communication, but she is extremely careful with her body language. From her stance, she is alone in the room.
Conner is quite adept at reading lips from his time using the Eye and follows her side of the conversation fine. He would love to see who she speaks to but keeping his presence secret is more important.
The woman in the mirror smiles. She was always distant to the point of being enigmatic, in Moire's court. What she might mean is hard to say. "I appreciate the information, but I have no intention of being a part of his or any other court."
She does something on her desk, out of sight of her mirror. "I cannot speak for Mother, but I would recommend you banish her further than your father's... court. She is not incapable of mischief, even now."
"And I cannot speak for Father," Celina nods. She gets an inspiration from Rilsa's comment however. Something for later. "There isn't a graceful way to ask this, but ...Moire hid or took with her the Jewel of Rebma. The City is vulnerable to the Chaosi and we would like the Jewel back. Are you willing to ask her about it? Assuming she's not available to talk now."
Rilsa smiles, thinly. "I am not aware of her current location, nor are we currently on speaking terms. She has not and I suspect will not come to the Shell of Harga'rel for succor."
Rilsa will hear of Khela's death soon if she doesn't know already. "I've always respected you, Rilsa. I thought of you as the next Queen. It was for you and Jerod that I brought Loreena home. If you do not want a place in my Court, that doesn't mean you are not my Family." It must be obvious to Rilsa by now that Moire played me all the way through this mess. So why not put it on the table? Rilsa may even know about the Pattern's connection to the throne. "Moire never told me I was her daughter. It might have changed so many things. Can I let Jerod know you are safe?"
Conner is still mistrustful of this quiet conversation. Conner begins to watch things through his Third Eye on the off chance that some power is being brought to bear from some quarter.
Rilsa's eyes spark. "Mother was never an honest woman, especially with us. I was removed from the succession because of my relationship with Jerod's father. I had to keep quiet about this for my daughters' sake. Royal politics have cost me two husbands, a sister, a nephew, and now a niece. I am free of it and intend to stay so, although my daughters may continue to chase Moire's blessings. If Jerod is worried for me, you may tell him I am well."
Connor sees only the thin silvery thread of power that connects the mirror to somewhere else. It runs out a few feet from the glass, which indicates that the other mirror is in shadow.
"Thank you, sister," Celina pours a lot of gratitude into the simple answer. "I'm available here if you need something. I'll use this same mirror irregularly. Or send me word. Travel safe."
Celina prepares a slow motion to shut down the mirror. If Rilsa has anything or Connor makes a sign, she'll hold but she thinks they are done.
Conner makes no such motion and again continues the waiting game.
Rilsa merely nods.
Celina carefully clears the area of influences and then covers the strong intact mirror. She pauses once it is draped and redoes the negation of the visual link touching the surface under the cloth for a moment.
"So Rilsa says.... she's done with Moire. That her children speak for themselves now. Especially if they seek Moire's favor." Celina turns about and looks at Conner. "Not what I expected from the mirror. I'm very puzzled as to what happened here. The mirror went right to Rilsa. So was Rilsa the last to use it? So I wonder if this destruction here was done by someone else?" She speaks more softly. "I wonder in fact if you can see the hand of the person who did the damage. Or did these mirrors implode?"
"Rilsa?" Conner echoes. "An act of sabotage on her part followed by an escape through the mirror? A possible if odd scenario. Are you suggesting a temporal scrying to see what happened here? It would be quite difficult but we have the luxury of time to prepare and enough Redhead sorcerers for two cabals. It could be done."
"Yes," Celina nods, "that's part of what I was thinking."
Celina leaves the mirror and moves closer to Conner. "Except that Rilsa did not destroy these mirrors. Rilsa went to Paris with Moire. Unless we believe that Moire was not planning any return to Rebma, they would not have thrown away these resources. They would hardly have needed these mirrors to escape Rebma. They did not get back to Rebma to destroy anything. As they escaped from Paris, they really had no time to return to Rebma. Now if before they left Paris, they saw something in the mirrors that also got them broken...." She shrugs. "That might be worth seeing." She looks back at the shattered glass.
"I have nothing to do for the next watch if you wish to make an attempt now." Conner offers. "I feel I should warn you though that my one attempt to perform a temporal scrying in a Pattern realm did not go well to put it mildly." Conner pales slightly at the memory. "A day or so to prepare and bringing Brennan's expertise into the matter would be the safer course."
"Being extra-safe with my friends is my best option right now," Celina sounds sad and moist. She is not crying.
"Then my next request will not sit well with you, Majesty." Conner swims over closer. "I've been meaning to ask this for days and I fear if I don't do it now I never will." Conner takes a swirl of water to steady himself. "When I spoke with Mother and Uncle Bleys about my attunement to Halosydne, we came to the conclusion that one of the necessary steps would be walking Rebma's Pattern while bearing Her blade. I fear I cannot be a true Defender and Warden without doing so." He says quietly, knowing that he rubs salt into a still fresh wound. "I would not ask this now if I did not feel it so crucial. Have I your permission to walk?"
Celina moans and reaches for Conner's shoulders. She makes as if to shake him but it is a feeble effort; water and solids resist. She drops her gaze and thuds her forehead against his chest. Now she begins to sob. Celina grips his shoulders and releases in time with the ruin of her composure.
Conner slides his arms around Celina and holds her close.
"I'm sorry." Conner whispers and he was. He was sorry for asking, for Khela, for the crown, for Moire, for Huon, for the family and for the whole damned universe for letting such a moment come into existence.
Conner holds her as long she wants to be held murmuring soothing sounds and gently stroking her hair. At no point does he let the platitude, "It will be all right," pass his lips.
Celina leans fully on Conner's strength, living in that moment as long as she can. It's a minute full of past and future pain and she lifts it again and carries it forward. That pause, like a Veil, is where you push ahead with everything you have. She lifts her head. "Of course. You have my blessing." She nods to him in thanks for what understanding he's given her. "I'll be there to watch you when you are ready."
Conner leans forward and plants a kiss on Celina's forehead. "Thank you. I shall welcome the company when the time comes." Conner offers his arm. "Shall we return to the prying eyes and clucking tongues? I'm told the stories that speculate about our relationship are getting pretty wild. It has to do with the lack of actual facts you see." Conner chuckles.
Celina smiles instead of straining to summon a thin laugh. "Yes. Gossip. If only they knew my actual choices are so much more intense..."
Celina has many meetings to respond to as routine is still looking to settle in Rebma. Most of the requests are for changes in force deployments due to casualties or requests for resettlement of those losing homes to damage outside and inside the City. Most of the destruction is in outlying farms.
In between meetings, she does very hard work on TaKhi routines, pushing herself and meditating on the many questions raised by Silhouette's extraordinary admissions. Foremost in her mind, can Sil deliberately be tapping into Celina's regrets about a childhood devoid of answers and connection? Is the Huon ally manipulating the compassion of Rebma for her own ends? And how much is Celina reading into things? What is it like to be raised a slave?
When the day ends she finds herself keyed up instead of tired. She sends for Brennan, asking him to attend her in the airy chamber where Trumps are safe from the sea. Food is brought in. She does an intricate series of calming exercises. Then to relax she lounges a soft form sponge couch on her shoulder blades and juggles four sea pears with her feet.
Brennan is admitted per her instructions without any ceremony. Celina catches the pears with her hands and waves at the platters of food before putting the fruits back and taking one for herself. "I've had a busy day, how about you?"
Every day that Brennan has been in Rebma has been a busy day for him. He has variously been involved in crisis management, coronation duty, acting as Rebman Advocate in rounds of diplomacy, investigating Rebma's Pattern, shaping the Rebman military, directing the new survey of Rebma, and metaphysically investigating the Faiella-Bionin. Whatever the local customs of Rebma, Brennan doesn't really conform to the idea of a weekend, and he doesn't so much relax, as relax from one project to another. The closest he comes to relaxation is meditation as he tries to work out some of the mathematical details of the Queen's Gift... which can be challenging without pencil and paper.
A lesser man might be described as driven, and the description would not be wrong for Brennan either. But in some cases, he better descriptor would be "driving."
Brennan takes that, therefore, as a rhetorical question, even though he answers it: "Always. If I'm not usefully busy, you might start charging me rent." Brennan looks over the platters, and idly wonders if they could import bacon from Xanadu or Paris before making his selection. Not one of the pears. "Are you satisfied with the terms of the Huon settlement?"
"No," she says. "But then I find I'm not all that diplomatic a person. Comments seem to run that he's conceding a lot to me, but my list of possible payments would have included surgery to remove one of his lungs so he could remember his threat to crush and drown a city." Celina finishes the first pear and picks up a second. "Under the finest surgeons and witnessed by Family as befits a prince of amber." Celina tries to look cynical and fails. "So I'm listening to advice and positioning for a middle ground that feels to my heart like a slap on the wrist." A tiny pause as if she should say no more and she finishes with, "Until Huon is here, can we believe that his words are delivered well?" She doesn't say that Silhouette would have instructions to make the agreements vague nor imply that she might for her own reasons. Obviously she's worried that negotiations are not well concluded but wait for some surprise from Huon.
"If I may speak freely," Brennan says, "That was never going to happen, for several reasons. One very practical one is this: If those were the terms of the deal, we'd have no deal. He'd force us to hunt him down, gambling his Curse against death. I would act no differently and neither, I suspect, would you. I avoided mentioning Curses in front of Silhouette, but I am convinced that for all the seething hatreds and petty grudges our parents' generation nursed, the threat of Death Curses kept the homicide rate low.
"Aside from that, your peers' opinions," by this, Brennan means King Corwin and especially King Random, "are important. Had we hamstrung him on the field, that would have been fair game. Probably applauded. But this is no longer the field." Brennan doesn't like it any more than Celina does, but what Brennan likes does not change the social or metaphysical realities.
"As for errors in translation," he says, "We'll find out soon enough. I would expect any errors to be small. It's something to iron out-- in private-- as soon as possible."
Celina nods through Brennan's summary. "I know....." she just shrugs. "I'm probably borrowing trouble. He has no reason to not want an agreement and he readily met our points. And I shall not let my un-Family sense of ...well, it is settled once he gets here and confirms."
Celina turns her thoughts back to Brennan's original question. "So why did you ask? I agreed to the terms. What does it matter if I'm satisfied?"
"Because I would have preferred to see him shackled to a very large rock in a very small cell," Brennan says, calmly. "Even in the context of the possible, I didn't quite get what I wanted. I do not like the added complexity of managing his security for the next twenty years. I think I can learn to be content with house arrest, though, since his movement is now conditioned on the Queen's Pleasure. It's both a carrot and a stick: If you're satisfied that he's come sufficiently clean about his allies and plans, the reward is greater movement. If not..." Brennan shrugs.
"In that regard, it may be better than starting with all stick and no carrot." He doesn't sound as though he likes it, but it may still be true.
Celina grins and laughs. "You're frustrated. Fabulous!" In the discovery that Brennan's asking her opinion as a means to vent his own, she glows with new layers of enthusiasm. The laugh changes and lowers as she turns it back on herself. "Spines, I thought you were going to lecture me about not understanding Uncles, which you already know is true. I don't."
Celina finishes off the second pear and eyes the third. "And here's the proof I don't: Huon believes he'll never be allowed to reach Rebma. He's asked for a Rebman honor cohort to escort him from Asir to Rebma. That surprise frustrated *me*. Then I thought if I take his position as a smart one......"
Celina explains her thoughts quickly, "Given that he can get here easier than I can send troops to Asir and given that I need to send a Family member to lead the troops... is it more telling that he thinks his unknown partners can kill him before he gets here? Or is it more significant that this request was not a negotiation point but a private message through Silhouette? The first argues someone is tracking him now. The second infers that someone in Rebma close to Court will not suffer him to come and mention a few names we want to hear. And yes, I'll be calling Random to discuss this soon." She reaches out with her foot and scoops up the third pear, flipping it over into her left hand. Brennan has seen Celina enough to realize she's keyed up, restless, physical in a way she has not displayed before. "Or both?"
Brennan runs through that in his mind several times before answering, but the tilt of his head and furrow of his brow are indicative before he opens his mouth. "He's afraid his allies are going to kill him before he gets to Rebma? I don't think so. First and foremost, it's just not compatible with his personality or his exploits-- this is a man who raised arms against Rebma and nearly succeeded, a man who casually threatened to destroy Rebma if it would make his grand theft easier to achieve. That's not a man given to fear."
Celina nods as this makes sense. She has met the man.
"Second, it just doesn't ring true. If his allies are *that* fearsome, the Battle for Rebma would have been much worse than it was. Remember, it took all of Caine, Bleys, Jerod, Khela, Robin, Brij, and myself-- and some kibbitzing from Conner-- to bring him down in hot pursuit. The man's not a coward, but he knows how to make a strategic withdrawal. We all do. With Family mobility and an infinity of Shadows, it's hot pursuit, accidental encounters, and Trumps that are dangers." Brennan pauses for thought, then adds, "And third, leading a column of troops makes you slower and less agile and more noticeable, without providing any real comfort against the sort of allies we're imagining. It is not a good way to accomplish what's being suggested. If the fear is real, I can think of at least two faster, better ways to get him here than a slow, ponderous military escort." Brennan doesn't say what they are; maybe he thinks they are obvious.
"That said, I can see the appeal to his ego of making us come to him, and being escorted into Rebma. And I can see the practical advantages of not simply showing up, unannounced. Much less at the head of a column of his own troops. Something, I suspect, is being lost in translation," Brennan says. To be charitable. "You say this was made as a private request through Silhouette. Written or oral? And how are Silhouette and Huon communicating?"
"Oral. I don't know how Silhouette is getting such fast responses from him. I had assumed there would be slower messages and I'm pretty sure she is a sorcerer of some kind. But it isn't trump they are using and Silhouette isn't using couriers on the main routes. I'd know." Celina shrugs. "I see the down side of Huon showing up and getting skewered by a hothead. That's embarrassing to him and moreso me. It is to be avoided. And it really could be that there is someone here he doesn't want to know he's coming and when. But like you, I'm not seeing what he wants from the elaborate retrieval and so I'm suspecting some sort of twist leaving me hanging in the wind. That point in particular I'll discuss with Random." Celina makes a gesture at the palace quadrant between them and Amber. "Caine has Huon's Trumps. It is possible Huon has a Trump of himself in that deck. Possible also I could ask Caine to 'borrow' those cards."
Celina reverses course a bit, "Not that I'm eager to do so. It is a puzzle so I'm sharing the thing around. Despite having chatted with Uncle Huon, I really don't know how fixed he is on this 'befitting a prince' pomp. Perhaps he feels if I'm not willing to massage his ego a bit, that I'm not sincere and he'll forget the deal and disappear."
"Well, I'm suspicious of the whole thing, as well. But in this regard, I don't think he gets to dictate terms," Brennan says. "The Trump idea is a useful one, but it has the disadvantage of relying on Trumps for direct personal contact. Another more elaborate way, is to get someone to show Asir to one of your Redheaded friends in a Mirror. Your hypothetical Redhead can then walk a bit up the Faiella-Bionin and Part the Veil, either going or sending someone. Someone makes contact, and they either come back the same way, or use a Trump of Rebma that we ask Brita to make for us. We need one of those anyway, and we'll call the whole process an escort, because that's what it is.
"As for 'befitting a Prince,' I really don't know. I know in his position, I'd be trying to milk it for all its worth because I'd have little to lose. Would he nix the deal over it?" Brennan shrugs. "I don't know. Nothing about escorts is in writing, as far as I know. And once he's here and surrounded by an armed escort and confined to whatever small estate you find for him, his mischief potential is... well, it's reduced, anyway. The properties of Rebma still hold, making Pattern manipulation and Sorcery very difficult. He'll have no Trumps." Brennan thinks a moment, almost says something. Then another moment. "We'll have to insist that he divulge his means of communication, though, so that we can shut it down."
"Mmmmm," Celina rearranges and considers all the wonderful ideas. She picks up another pear without really seeing it and rolls the fruit back and forth on the knuckles of her hand. "I do not think I realized there were more artists than Merlin and Ossian. Brita? Who else does the Family sketches? Does Brita know Rebma well enough to make such a thing in a week or two or is that not how it works? We're blessed she chose to come by."
"In Rebma? None, that I know of," Brennan says, then runs through the list. "Reid was reportedly brilliant, but he's been out of circulation for long enough that Ossian is heading off to find him. Oh, and I should mention, since that nasty business with Lucas, I gave all the Redheads explicit permission to make Trumps of me.
"As for how long it takes," Brennan shrugs. "I'm sure it varies by circumstance and Artist, and I have no good way of judging either. I would have thought that being in a place would help the process, but..." he shrugs. He is not a Trump Artist, and never will be.
Celina nods. "So....is it tradition that family on parole cannot speak to others or have visitors? You go further than I would with the idea that Huon cannot talk to others without permission. Or is something else at stake? Or even if we might discover how he's doing it we'd be alright with him doing it."
Brennan shrugs, not quite non-committally, but because he doesn't think that there is a hard and fast answer. "Your father was held in a cell in Amber, and blinded for his trouble. King Random was treated far more humanely, as I understand it, in both Rebma and Amber. I don't think it happens often enough that there's a hard and fast rule... and every time it happens, the situation is different."
Brennan doesn't think Celina wants a lecture, and isn't sure about her tolerance for a long drawn out Socratic dialogue, but he does add, "My concerns are many, short term and long term. But in terms of communication... I am not eager to have one of Moire's agents slip in and put another offer on his table."
"Ah," Celina nods. "I see. Moire."
Brennan spreads his hands as if to say, "among others," or "just an example."
She circles discreet ideas looking at them from a few directions, adding and subtracting things before speaking again. "Let me say that I understand my next question is probably something you don't want to talk about. That's fine, but I respect your opinion so I'm foolish not to ask, even if you think me too crass......"
She manages a restrained smile that hints of apology. "As for things that 'don't happen often enough'. The Family seems to be a strong-minded and durable lot. How often do 'we' have to deal with killers and soulless relatives who will murder to get what they want? Is forgiving Huon or Corwin or Brand practical because they'll learn from it if they live? Is forgiveness policy or does it not come up often enough to have a policy? I have discovered in myself a violent tendency that I never saw growing up."
Brennan stiffens, and doesn't answer for a long moment. When he does, what he says is, "Understand that, until Patternfall, I'd been out of contact for a long time. Centuries. And I was never in contact to begin with. Aside from Brand, and occasional visits from Bleys and Fiona, I knew no one in the Family, but I knew Brand was planning to kill me. So for all those centuries, that was my default model of Family behavior. What I'm saying is, I may not have the best perspective."
Brennan gives some thought to just leaving it at that, then adds, "King Random was ready to forgive Brand. Even after Martin. That is the level of his commitment."
Celina nods once. Her face reflects even more mixed emotions at the example Brennan makes. But she acknowledges that it is a good example.
"Well, this isn't exactly a change of topic, but I'm asking now for practical reasons. Setting aside cultural bias, because I am certainly aware of that I'd be shocked at what passes for normal in some places, what do you do with a Family member who is insane or irrational? Lock them up? And does this require approval of Random?"
Brennan raises an eyebrow, but pointedly does not ask if this is hypothetical or practical.
"I assume you mean someone irrational to the point of being a danger to himself and others? I know that King Random considers himself-- and is, by right of oath-- the head of the Family. Random claims the sole right to judge Family members, and there is a pragmatic logic behind that claim. How far does that claim run? Certainly it's a protection against death sentences. Is it a protection against exile? I suspect not-- there is a pragmatic logic behind the necessity of a monarch controlling access to her lands. Imprisonment? I'm not sure, but I'm fairly sure that Huon isn't a useful precedent, since he surrendered to Random and Random fobbed him off here to Khela's, and now your, mercy," Brennan says.
"So my sense is that if someone were becoming an intolerable presence, that presence could be removed one way or the other. We know Huon was exiled from Amber, and Ysabeau. Not to mention, Solange from Xanadu," Brennan says, coldly. "My guess is if you read between the lines, you'd see a bunch of less permanent exiles, and self-exiles until such time as Oberon cooled down or found a use for someone."
"You realize, of course, that there's a limit to my advice here, yes? These are conversations you're going to have to have with King Random. And perhaps King Corwin. I don't think they're the sort of conversation Conner or I can take part in." Brennan thinks for a moment, chasing some loose thought, then, "Llewella. She can't take part in that conversation, either, I think. But she has a more personal sense of history than I do, and experience in Rebma-Amber relations."
Celina nods. Llewella is someone she needs to talk to. She's glad though that Brennan mentioned it without prompting. If anything it raises his ranking to very near Conner in dependability as a sounding board. "Well, if you don't want to go any further into this discussion, that's fine. However, I'll share the very loose assessment that Silhouette is slightly mad." She holds up both hands quickly. "I know you don't trust her. I'm just adding that she believes in several impossible things as well. It makes her actions hard to fathom."
"In order to reason clearly, I have to distinguish between what I think, what I believe, and what I know," Brennan says. "And in order to advise clearly, I have to make those distinctions when we speak, that's all. On the rare occasion that King Random asked my opinion, I tried to make the same distinctions. As for Silhouette, I don't think I can say anything you don't already know."
It looks as though Brennan is going to let it go at that, but almost against his will he finds himself asking, "But what impossible things are those?"
Celina speaks slowly with minimal emotion. "When an apparently healthy woman tells me she needs nothing except Duty; requires no need of friends or love or kindness. She called herself a creature of stone." Celina looks at the table and then her empty plate but brings her eyes directly back to Brennan. "Before that she offered to sate my bleeding heart to whatever level I might wish."
The resulting pause is about seven months pregnant, before Brennan mutters, "I'm beginning to feel left out." The muttering does not sound at all disappointed. "I leave it to you to judge her sincerity, but that could have been a clumsy attempt at manipulation. I also leave it up to you whether that's better or worse than insanity."
A husky laugh trickles from Celina. "She's really young and hardly as experienced as..." Khela. Spines. Celina just lets that thought go. "Yes, even if sincere--- it was manipulation. She wanted me. She's been rejected by the most important person in her life and it may kill her. Or she will grow past it. We both know how that feels." Celina finishes that on a more regretful note than she wished.
"That's part of it, yes," Brennan agrees. "You'd think I'd have more sympathy, all things considered. But when one pivots from etiquette lessons for meetings with the Queen, to a discussion of Rebman cultural attitudes toward adultery less than five minutes after a first introduction...." Brennan gives a shrug almost poetic in its eloquence.
"I don't think I've met a cousin so desperately in need of advice, or less willing to take it," he says.
Celina thinks about that and rather than agree outright, she injects some humor into a change of discussion. "Well, I've not been around long enough to try and agree. I'll study up and offer more advice around." She grins.
Celina expects Brennan may wish to change the subject, so she offers one.
Brennan does. He may have some advice in mind, but-- Family gossip notwithstanding-- it's not for Celina.
"Rebma's history includes much more magic than Amber. Water and Air magic. Mirror magic. Even a touch of Sorcery is possible here. In your mind, how does that equate with the Pattern here looking nearly the same as the one in Amber?" She slips some fresh fillets onto a plate and nibbles.
"I answer a question with a question," Brennan says. "Does that history of various magics extend back as far as Moins' reign?"
"Or is it a corruption of the original way of things?" Celina thinks back on the Court history she's looked at. She needs to spend an entire week with the archivists. No way around it. Or bore Llewella with questions once a week. Something like 'aunty story time'. Ah. Celina nods. "I think it may. I'll check that assumption, but things that I've seen...some things that Llewella said to me, suggest the magic has been there from the beginning." She counts off some examples. "First, the airy waters of the realm. Second, the long standing association with worked fire down here. Metalwork and the like. I am not sure that the Airy waters are directly tied to the ability of Fire to burn on the city walls or the stairs to Paris. The elements are more....independent and organic to Rebma?"
"Well, until we have a better handle on that, anything I say is even more suspect than it ordinarily would be," Brennan says. "But let's assume that the magics were always there. The answer, I think, is the simplest but least satisfying one: Because that's the way Moins wanted it to be."
Celina nods enthusiastically as if this is what she expected.
Brennan evidently doesn't like that explanation, either, but he continues: "I asked King Random, not long ago, his thoughts on using the Family gifts-- Pattern manipulation, or Sorcery-- in Xanadu. What I was asking was whether he would be offended by such attempts, since Sorcery in particular would be an attempt to change the rules he had set down for Xanadu. He never really answered that question, but I remember him saying that he didn't create Xanadu by thinking up the rules for the chemistry and the physics and the rest. He created it by thinking up the rules and the images and the meaning of Xanadu, and letting the physics and the chemistry follow from that. My words, his sentiment," Brennan adds, as though there would be some doubt.
"That bothered me for a long time. Still does, actually, that top-down approach. By training, most of the Redheads are more bottom-up. But once I stopped to think about it... is that much different from how we walk in Shadow? If I want to go to a place with a big snow-capped mountain, I don't worry about how long ago it snowed, or where the snow came from. I don't have to, anyway. I just GO-- to a place with a snowy mountain. So on that level, 'Because Moins wanted it that way,' is a meaningful answer. It's just not helpful, or testable. The question is, though," Brennan says, "Why would Moins and Oberon want things so differently, and still end up with a Rebma and an Amber that mirror each other so closely?"
"You put the question better than I could have. Yes. Why so different but mirrored? Were Moins and Oberon partnered in some way that has not been spoken of? Even before Llewella? Could they have both studied with Dworkin at the same time and resolved to share some of the esoteric workings, so the two places overlap? So it might be impossible to rule a Pattern where you did not want the same things as the original ruler. And this works in the strange case of the Sky Pattern, where somehow the Wants of the Ruler changed so dramatically that the place exists only in a intangible state anymore." Celina adds, "In fact, being killed on the Pattern might be an indication of more than being tired or not ready, but some serious incompatible belief to the designer of that Pattern."
"I'll let you know, if I ever find out," Brennan says. As is often the case, the words are lightly phrased, but the sentiment is very serious. "And vice-versa, I hope. But neither Oberon nor Moins are available for questioning, and the next time I run into Dworkin, I have other questions that he might be more likely to given an understandable answer to. In any event, I cannot conceive that the prevalence of Mirror work in Rebma is an accident. I cannot conceive that it is not important to understand them, either.
"Celina," Brennan says, "Will you teach me Mirrorwork?"
"Yes." Not only is there no hesitation, implying she expected to be asked, but she doesn't dwell on the dangers that Brennan is opening himself to. He's ten times her age at least. He takes good care of himself already and he knows beginners get cut. She dares to guess he would find the danger trivial. "I will gladly be responsible for that. You shall be very discreet to begin with since I won't always be there." She does a small calculation of how often Moire spent time with her getting her to doing her own mirror craft. Moire moved deliberately and kept things mysterious, probably to disguise how important the lessons might be. The time schedule could be compressed.
She looks at him. "When will you have time and how much of it? I know you plan on leaving. There are studies you can take with you."
"I have time until I leave, certainly," Brennan says. "The most pressing public project I have is the new mapping project, and you've seen the status reports there. It is not complete, but I have a good rapport with the military and they can continue most of it without me, and with only superficial supervision. They see the sense of it as much as we do.
"After that," Brennan shrugs. "It may be catch as catch can. I have no way of knowing, a priori, how long the journey to Benedict's realm will take... though if I were to gamble, I would gamble on a fairly short journey. I think you know my interest is more theoretical than practical, but I trust your judgement on portable exercises." With the exception of Fiona, and perhaps Bleys, sometimes the best way to teach Brennan something abstract is to teach him the practical aspects and let him work out the general theory on his own.
Celina nods and looks excited and wistful at the same time. "This is good for me. I've lost a part of myself. Creating new things is important to my energies. We can start you with the Akkadian Puzzle Chain. Your math skills are probably way beyond me but we must talk about geometry of course. Lots to memorize."
Brennan smiles faintly when Celina mentions geometry, and heroically refrains from asking, "Which geometry?" He is Clarissa's favorite grandson, after all. "Looking forward to it," he says. "I'll try not to solve them with Sorcery until I solve them the conventional way, first.
"Speaking of near departures, it won't be tomorrow and it might not even be next week, but that trip to Avalon is happening soon. Some of it is for my own purposes, of course. But I can act in any official capacity you desire, as well," he says. "I can't think of anyone better to ask for advice in securing Huon, for instance."
"Aha, good point," Celina responds. "Well, let's give you this vague mission definition: find out what confinement 'befitting a prince' is from the Impeccable Uncle while you are there. Ask if he needs anything from Rebma, of course. You don't really need to say it may not be here long, so use the resources while they exist." She shrugs that her mood is still aswirl with thoughts of Khela's death and the task she has taken on. The small movement is not an apology as much as a criticism of her limits.
Brennan nods.
"And you may mention that Rilsa and I spoke." Celina looks thoughtful. "Moire and she appear to have had a falling out."
The eyebrow, inevitably, rises. The head, inevitably, tilts. "Indeed?"
Celina laughs lightly. Brennan can suppose it is something inevitable. She nods. "Rilsa says she is done. Quit. Seeking to please Moire costs too much."
"Well, having met neither Rilsa nor Moire, that still has a certain ring of truth to it," Brennan says. "Did she make that an invitation for a better offer, or a pledge of neutrality?"
Celina thinks for a moment. "Her comment followed on the heels of a rather bold question I put to her about the return of the Jewel to Rebma. She couldn't help with that as she planned to stay far away from politics for a while. Neutrality probably fits it best. But she does not speak for her daughters."
"Or her son," Brennan says. "I don't know any of the players of the court except you, so I am uniquely ill-suited to advise. But if she's really withdrawn into neutrality, that's probably a good thing in and of itself."
"I think so too." Celina nods.
Brennan hesitates, then makes the decision to change the topic somewhat sharply. "I have a question, if I may."
Celina nods.
"How many Veils did you experience?" he asks.
"Four," she says without hesitation. "Do different parts of the Family experience other numbers of veils or is it an age thing?"
"No," Brennan says, and although he doesn't say it, he considers the question odd. "I experienced three when I was fourteen. And every conversation I overhead between Bleys, Fiona, and Brand spoke of three, regardless the location-- Amber, Rebma, or Tir-na Nog'th. I had thought the number was fundamental to a Pattern. Any Pattern. Then Paris and Xanadu were created, with four, so I've heard. So the question arose: Are Paris and Xanadu simply different?"
"My conjecture was, no," Brennan says. "By design or by accident, the Patterns are a system with the Veils as one very local side effect. But Amber is gone, Tir-na Nog'th is off limits, and Rebma's chamber was locked down tight." Brennan would ordinarily look rather pleased about being right about something like that... if it hadn't killed his friend, learning it. "If I went to Tir-na Nog'th again, I suspect I'd find four Veils there, now."
"Oh," Celina rearranges things silently. "The Veils define reflections of...." She would normally say of a greater whole set. Her initial idea was that the Veils defined incorporation of various re-settlements of the universe...such as a change of king. But then, perhaps writing a new Pattern was the same thing writ larger upon the back of the turtle's shell. And the Shell was defined not by law but by...? "But Brennan, if the Veils are the deadliest part of the Walkstruggle.... what is the primary order of the entire design? Something before Rebma and Amber and Tir. Do we know that it is safe?"
"It's still there, if that's what you mean," Brennan says. "I've seen it. That's what Oberon died to achieve."
"Well...I suppose what I meant is.. how well is it protected now?" Celina really doesn't want to worry about another Pattern.
"Until recently, not many people even knew about it, and it's still pretty difficult to get to even for one of us. It's not just a casual stroll even for one of us. The second order Patterns-- four or five them, now-- also play a passive role in their defense along with the Faiella-Bionin, as I understand it. But ultimately?" Brennan muses. "First, Dworkin, followed by the rest of us."
"So perhaps the sooner we know who Huon's allies are, the better off all Patterns are?" She nods. "So if Brita could create a place Trump of Rebma, returning to our earlier comments, where should it be linked to? The Torch Gate at the bottom of the Bionin?"
"For the foreseeable future, there will probably only be one Trump, and it will probably be in your deck, unless you loan it out, yes? So it's probably less critical than the one of Amber-- and who even knows how Dworkin managed to come up with so many sets all alike," he mutters. "Somewhere watchable and controllable, I'd say. Somewhere with a detail of Tritons and men watching it. Caine has Amber's Trump-point closely monitored too," he says.
She nods. "Well then it suits. Distinguished service gets you a rotation on the Bionin Way. Adding Tritons for special occasions is a nice tradition to start. There is no where to hide at the Torch Gates. And even if someone brought a small army through, there are fortified locations between the boulevard and the palace." Celina appears quite satisfied. "I'll send you the Akkadian Puzzle tomorrow. I don't need my copy anymore. The engravings will be more interesting once you solve the arrangement of the pieces. Once correctly assembled, it is the best formula for mirror glass and instructions for fabrication. I won't spoil the effect by reciting the stuff by rote for you. Certain aspects of solving are actually useful later on with respect to geometry. Consider it the easy introduction. We'll get right into more involved lessons next time we talk."
Brennan smiles faintly, considers promising not to break the puzzle or otherwise tie it into a Moebius Pretzel, then decides against it. Any puzzle worth solving has more than one solution, and it's almost... passe'... to use only the easiest or most expected one. "I'll be looking forward to it."
"So will I," Celina replies.
Last modified: 28 January 2012