Arden Family Reunion

Julian draws the note Folly handed him out of his belt. He looks at it for a moment, then moves to place it in one of Morgenstern's saddlebag. "I needs must find Robin at once. Will you join me?" he asks Adonis.

Adonis follows every movement of the letter, like one of his father's dogs following a morsel of food from Julian's plate to his mouth. Julian catches the look as he speaks but Adonis expresses nothing verbally once his interest is noted: it's his father's letter, he'll open it when he sees fit and doubtless seasons will pass before he advises anyone of the contents, if ever. But Julian's eldest son is patient.

"I seem to recall asking for your attention in just this matter, Pater. Of course I will come with you. It will give you the opportunity to continue your discourse on Martin and it will give me a chance to ride Morgernstern again - I was unable to fully appreciate the experience on the last occasion. But you understand I must consult with Mater after."

"I ride to take Robin's counsel, which I imagine pleases you as well as the news that you must consult with your mother pleases me, but which comes equally expected." Julian mounts Morgenstern and offers Adonis his hand so the younger man can take a seat behind him.

The saddle really isn't designed for two, but they'll make do.

Adonis takes his father's hand and swings athletically up behind him, landing just behind the saddle.

"Your opinion of your daughter differs from mine, Pater. But then I have seen but one aspect of her and perhaps she has kept her more positive qualities hidden from me. She is your daughter; you should talk. Artemis is my mother; we should talk. We are all family; perhaps we should all talk?"

As Julian touches his heels to Morgenstern, the great horse springs into a trot. "Only if I'm assured of a better reception than your cousins got from her. She can be a bit of a bear when she doesn't get her way, you know. In any case, first things first, and the first thing is Robin, and the next is Jovian, or perhaps vice versa."

Adonis smiles wryly at his father's remark. "Yes, I know!" As Morgernstern moves, he looks over his shoulder to catch a last glimpse if the firelillies in the gathering gloom. Once they vanish, he faces forward. He doesn't expect his father to need directions but he'll do so if asked.

Either Julian or Morgenstern seems to know the way.

"Mater has agreed for me to arrange a family funeral for Dione. I feel a ritual of farewell is necessary for all of us, but it may also lend an opportunity for you both to see and even speak to each other. Whether you speak or not, it is appropriate for you to be there."

Adonis falls silent. It doesn't take a genius to work out that mentioning his sister's name has brought back memories, and pain.

Julian remains silent for some time. When he speaks, he says, "Jovian and Robin should also have a chance to say farewell to their sister."

There's a drawn out pause before Adonis grudgingly replies, "Yes!" He agrees with his father, though part of him doesn't want to.

Julian ignores this ignoble sentiment.

Then, perhaps in an attempt to change the subject, "What has happened to Martin, Pater? I didn't want to say anything in front of Folly for she would worry but I am concerned - he seemed well enough the once I met him some days... weeks ago."

Julian says, "Martin was injured during the disturbance at the coronation masquerade. I understood that he departed Amber afterwards, with your kinswoman Folly, and as she has said, they have now returned, hale and whole."

Julian can't see his son's face, or the frown as he puts events in order in his mind, though Adonis' face clears at the words 'hale and whole'.

He pauses, as Morgenstern chooses which side of a fork in the path to take, and adds, "If you refer to the conversation which Folly interrupted, I spoke there of a different, older incident. My late brother Brand used the boy's blood as a component in a ritual which has been the source of many of our late difficulties. It was of this that I thought when I watched you extinguish the flower."

"Ah!" Replies Adonis, meaningfully. "I should have guessed it would be something like that. How silly of me." There's a pause as he comes to an apparently momentous decision. "Mythologically speaking, flowers traditionally grow where falls the blood of a god of fertility. Mine was spilt by Lilly; I asked her to. (In this matter, she is under my protection; I hope you will make this clear to anyone who questions how one cousin spilt the blood of another.) My reasons were complex but only one need concern us here.

"Lilly and I were engaged in a contest of sorts with some chthonic entities led by one who called himself 'Hob'. The place was bleak, inhospitable, mutable and I have observed that many who dwell in such places seem to envy us, perhaps for our sense of identity? The reason for the contest was to decide our fate; we having been accused of inadvertent trespass.

"It occurred to me to gift them with my blessing. My blood might have changed that place, perhaps making it more like those loci we are more familiar with and enabling us to make our exit. It might also have given them something of our nature. Of course, they might not have welcomed such a transition - one man's blessing is another man's curse - However, Hob seemed to accept my gift in the spirit in which it was given.

"I cannot say if it achieved my intent, it is hard to tell, but it is my opinion that we parted amicably. The last thing I recall clearly before Paige awakened me were Hob words, 'Oh blood! We will accept that as payment for your debt. Your relatives would tell you to be more careful where you lose it. Fear not, it will be safe with us'.

"I see no reason why he would have lied to us. We were in their place of power and had little of our own. I think the flowers represent a...compromise, an agreement, a...compact between Hob's people and myself, and probably Lilly. Among other things, the flowers serve to guard spilt blood. I think they are, in that sense at least, a good thing. But I wonder if they might not have served as a vehicle? There is more to them, I am sure. I think they may prove to be a good thing also in other ways, if handled appropriately, which is why I am concerned that I inadvertently destroyed one. It was clumsy of me. I should have been more careful.

"I have been as forthcoming about these things as I can be and I would appreciate your reciprocation, Pater. Are you afraid that someone who wishes the flowers harm may use my blood to destroy them, providing a further incentive to do me harm? Or do you fear something else? I would know your mind in this."

Julian, who has ridden on in silence through Adonis' explanation, says, "The Chaosian took blood in payment of a debt, and said it would be safe with him. I am no sorcerer, but I can see no good that will come of that. If the flowers are an agreement between you and Lilly and them, I see little good that can come of that, either. I believe you should speak with Fiona or Bleys about this matter, and let one of them examine you."

There's silence for a minute as Adonis mulls this over, then, slowly, with consideration..."Yes, Pater!" It sounds as if he's thinking deeply about his father's words.

The pair ride in silence for a bit, and Adonis can almost tell how it is that his father changes the land as they ride through, as if he could sing the song as well if only he knew the scale. There is a fundamental rightness about what his father does, but Adonis feels as a baby bird might watching his mother in flight nearby.

The forest changes in odd ways, quickly gaining and losing a hilly region, a clear stream, and various herds of beasts. Morgenstern is undisturbed by the changes and the beasts, but Morgenstern is rarely disturbed by anything Adonis knows of. Sun and shadows move oddly and it is difficult to determine if it is morning or midday.

Adonis remains silent for the rest of the journey. There's no sense of sulkiness in his silence, he's merely deep in thought.

After what seems like hours of riding, Morgenstern approaches a small clearing. It smells to Adonis as if they are near the edge of the forest. There are low hills across the way, with a few rocky cave entrances in them. Morgenstern stops and Julian makes a Ranger hand gesture. A middle-aged man comes out of the trees and nods his head to Julian. "Totter. How goes it?"

"Well, my Lord. We have four prisoners in the caves."

If Adonis gives any sign that the number of 'prisoners' is not equal the number he left Robin with, he gives no sign.

[The GM says 'frug! I miscounted. It's 6+Luke, isn't it?' He used the right number, which is 'about a half-dozen'. Feel free to retcon out your non-reaction.]

The Ranger nods respectfully to Adonis as well.

Adonis nods gravely back. "And how are you, Totter?" There's a very slight emphasis on the pronoun.

"Well, thank you, my Lord." He smiles. "Better for being a day or so from that fight."

Adonis smiles his agreement as his father interjects...

"Did you encounter anything notable since then, Totter?"

He nods. "Another one of them, my Lord. I should let Robin tell you about it."

Julian nods back. "Then we will await her arrival. " He begins to dismount from his great grey horse.

Since it's hard to dismount with someone behind you, Adonis vaults easily from Morgernstern's back. While he waits for his father to dismount, he turns his back on the cave, closes his eyes and feels the forest around him. Revelling in the earthy smells, the calls of the woodland birds, the occasional rustle of something in the undergrowth, he smiles quietly to himself.

He turns back after a few seconds; he doesn't want to keep his father waiting. He's calm!

Julian dismounts as Totter whistles a loud tune that Adonis recognizes and associates with his father. Morgenstern stands placidly by as the men await Robin's arrival.

Robin hears the comforting sound of the sentry setting up her post and knows that things are well under control and drifts quickly into a light sleep.

She awakes what seems like mere moments later, under a silvery moon much larger and fuller than she expects. The clearing leading to the hill where her cave-mouth sits practically glows. It makes her recall the best of the deep green.

Robin's eyes are drawn to the edge of the clearing where, as if her gaze had caused it, she sees two children standing in the shade of a tree. A boy and a girl, they are both naked. The girl is pointing out something to the boy, and as Robin follows her pointing finger, she shes the same image of a floating woman that she saw in The Isles. The floating woman is looking to the north, as if waiting for some sign.

There is not so much as a stirring from the cavern behind her.

Ah, no. No, no, no, Robin thinks wearily to herself. Just when she had gotten to sweeping the shattered pieces of her mind into something human-like, someone starts fucking with it again. There's no rancor in the girl, just a sad tired weariness.

Sighing, the Ranger raises herself to her feet, leaving the blanket to slip to the ground behind her. No sense in putting it off. Time to go and get visioned again.

It's with a sad smile for the kids and wiping one liquid eye that Robin steps out into the glowing moonlight. She moves slowly and carefully, not wanting to spook her... what? Siblings? Cousins? Niece and nephew? Future? Past?

The children move towards the floating woman on the edge of clearing. They remind Robin for all the world of stalking kittens. The children, who look like a brother and sister, seem intent on their prey, who seems oblivious. From Robin's vantage, she thinks the floating woman must know that they are there, if she is aware of anything.

As the children move across the clearing, the girl turns her head in Robin's direction. Her face looks sharp and cruel and her mouth seems to be full of sharp, predatory teeth. It is not clear if she sees the Ranger or not.

At first Robin is put off by the girl's face. But... that was the mistake she made with Adonis -- assuming intimacy and affection based upon relation, instead of letting him be himself.

These two, then, they get to be themselves; cruel sharp hunters. After all, Robin has more than a little of the predator in herself and yet her father was able to tame her. And wasn't it she who hucked a rock at the floaty woman the first time they 'met'?

Despite the weariness of being f*cked with, Robin can't help but grin back as she stalks toward what she thinks might be Callisto's kids.

The floating woman's vision lights on the children. Specifically, it seems, on the girl. She floats closer to the girl, drifting downward to get a better look at her. The girl turns back to the floating woman and comes further out, closer to her.

The feral boy slinks away until Robin almost loses him in the semidarkness of the night. He is using his sister as a lure, Robin thinks, and will attack the floating woman from behind.

Huhn. Robin grunts to herself. No reaction from anyone. The stalking kiddies should at least take the other predator, herself, into account. But no, their patterns are still focused on one target without distraction. And Robin's pride is a little nettled that Floaty Moon-type Woman still doesn't seem to even notice her.

Okay, fine. Maybe she's just audience for this one. But that isn't going to stop her from at least attempting something stupid with far too little information or understanding of her action's impact. That just wouldn't be Robin-like and no fun at all.

Robin sets her stalk for Darkness Boy, lining up to cross pounce him when he makes his move for the woman's back.

The girl seems a bit dazed by the inspection of the floating woman. If she doesn't notice Robin, it's probably because she's otherwise occupied. And the floating woman seems rather preoccupied with the girl for now.

Robin suspects the boy did, in fact, notice her before. When she begins moving toward him, she becomes sure of it, for he looks at her, his eyes catlike beacons in the darkness, and puts a finger to his lips. She notices the boy has fangs, like his sister.

By now, Robin is entirely convinced that she has no idea what's going on. Still, it just isn't within her to not do something. Anything. Even if it's wrong.

And while the Ranger's natural tendency is to find stalking fangy kitten/kids cute, even when they do have cruel faces, and to be extremely distrustful of floaty moon-women -- still Robin's thinking she'd like to bag one of the kids. Callisto's or not.

Thus, she nods agreement to the boy's request for silence, yet creeps ever closer to him. Here kitty, kitty. In the back of her mind, Robin keeps an awareness that these are a hunting pair and doesn't let herself forget the presence of the girl.

The boy seems to accept her as a not-enemy, although Robin doubts he would consider her a companion. He continues to stalk the floating woman, shimmying up a tree inhumanly quickly to get above her.

Robin watches the youngster with a tactician's eye, making sure she's knows and has ready what's needed to snag him out of the air when he makes his move.

And, as an afterthought, the Ranger makes a quick visual sweep of the area to make sure that no one else has joined the drama of four. 'Cause it would be rilly embarrassing to be pounced on herself while on the stalk.

Robin doesn't see anything or anyone else stalking her, but when she turns back to her prey, the floating woman is no longer looking at the girl, and the girl has scampered off.

In fact, the floating woman is now looking at her, and as Robin turns back around, she is caught in the other woman's--being's--gaze. Her eyes are big and luminous, and Robin feels as if she can see whole universes inside them. She is looking for someone, seeking her, and measuring Robin to find out if the Ranger is the one who will bring her journey to an end.

Damn! Just like the Unicorn, is Robin's first thought. The memory of that meeting flits through the Ranger's mind almost involuntarily.

Second thought is Crap! Now I'm all starry-eyed while the kids line up on me! Or get away.

Third thought is What the fuck? Last time we met, Ms. Floaty Woman, I was invisible. Why do you care now?

Yep. Robin typically doesn't respond to measuring with respect. Or sometimes even with politeness. Just ask Uncle Bleys. Or Adonis.

Yet, even as she thinks this, the world is shaking apart around her from the force of the floating woman's gaze. If Robin could just concentrate, she'd figure out what the woman was looking for ...

... except the shaking doesn't stop and it's Rain's hand on her shoulder, calling her from her dream. Robin is back in the cave entrance, where she started.

"Totter spotted something," Rain tells Robin quietly.

Silent and alert, Robin nods back to Rain. Drawing her sword, she looks quickly around the cave to get a feel for any change in people's positions. And then the Ranger takes up a concealed and ready crouch in the shadows of the cave mouth. Time enough later to wonder if she actually fell asleep or not.

After a few minutes, they hear a whistle from Totter's direction. It announces the arrival of the Warden of Arden, and calls for a report.

A happy grin dances across Robin's face, though there is a flicker of concern in her green eyes. Her father and herself in one place makes for a tempting target out here. However, Robin is completely confident that the Warden has already taken that into account steps before he ever approached.

Though still tired there is a spring in Robin's step as she makes her way from the cave to where her father and Totter await. The sight of Adonis brings a confused furrow to her brow but doesn't lessen her smile.

"Sir," she nods to Julian.

At the sound of her voice, with a barely audible wistful sigh, Adonis turns round and moves the few paces to stand near his father. His smile moves from wistful to sardonic. He looks fresh and relaxed as he regards the young woman approaching.

Julian nods in response. "Robin. I understand you have a report to make, but it should wait. Your brother Jovian will be joining us soon." He turns to Adonis. "Perhaps this is the moment to discuss the memorial you mentioned."

A flicker of surprise runs through Robin's eyes. All four of them? In one place?

Then a contemplative furrow crosses her brow. Dad is up to something, Robin just doesn't understand what yet. And now seems to be the time to talk of 'memorials' so Robin turns to Adonis.

A Julianic eyebrow rises as its owner clearly considers why his father should introduce the topic so abruptly, before Adonis and Robin have even greeted each other. "Without Jovian?" comes the response after a few moments. The question appears to be rhetorical, though Adonis must know his father may choose not to treat it as such.

But then his gaze returns to the girl before him. "Greetings, Robin! I trust you slept well?" There's something odd about this question; it's obvious she hasn't, but it really sounds as if he cares. Who'd have thought it?

"Uh, hi." Robin seems a little unsettled by the sudden tack in conversation, though she answers politely enough. The Ranger shrugs her shoulder, the one arm with still not responding as quickly as the other. "Slept? Maybe. Well? Nope." A wry tick tugs at the corner of her mouth.

"What memorial?" She asks with worry growing behind her green eyes at the conjunction of this subject and the notable lack of Breeze's presence.

"Adonis plans a memorial for your sister Dione," Julian says, perhaps more impassively than usual.

Adonis nods once as confirmation. "You do look a little tired." He comments sympathetically. Robin feels his the intensity usual in his stare. Then suddenly, as if sensing it might intimidate, he drops his gaze to around the level of her knees, half-cocks his head and continues invitationally, "Is there something on your mind?"

Robin's eyes are on her father. And stay on her father throughout all of Adonis' speech. Her green eyes sadden with sympathy and it is that expression that she turns on her brother. "K. Memorial. Let me know what you'd like from me and I'll see what I can swing."

Then a thought occurs to her. "I mean, please let me know if there's anything I can do to help," she adds blushing a little from embarrassment.

If Jovian is a bit abrupt with the pages he buttonholes after taking his leave of Random, perhaps it is understandable - he is, after all, looking for Caine, a task few savor. A few minutes later, he makes a point of shaking out his hands to loosen the fist that raps smartly, but not too aggressively, on the admiral's office door.

A young man, smartly dressed opens the door. "Sir Jovian to see you, Admiral Caine." He says as he recognizes the dragonrider.

"Thank you, Capstan. If you would return that book to the Librarian for me, you may go."

"Yes, sir," the young man opens the door and holds it for Jovian.

"Ah, Jovian, come in. What may I do for you?" Caine manages to give every impression that he expected to see a dragonriding nephew at just this time.

"Good afternoon, Admiral. I'll be suitably brief," Jovian says neutrally, eyeing Caine's desk and its degree of organization - from which much can be learned of a man. "My wings have returned, but for a brief while I will not be available as liaison. My father has need of me in Arden and the time flow is irregular of late. In the event of emergency here, you should know where they are, since you appear to be coordinating security for the King."

The dragonman crosses to a work table under a window where, as he expected, a chart of the seas beyond Amber's harbor is laid out. "This atoll here," he points, "just over a point south of east from the harbor, half an hour's straight flight from the castle--" He eyeballs the distance on the chart against the scale in the corner. "Call it thirty-five nautical miles offshore. Florimel's been there, if you need help," he deadpans over his shoulder.

"There should be no need to contact them before I return; if I'm not back already the King will be Trumping me back when he's ready to leave for Xanadu. But it's better that you know, just in case."

Caine nods as he joins Jovian at the work table. "Is there a way for us to signal the dragons if we need to bring them landward? I don't expect an emergency, but we never do. And your dragons are more mobile than we are."

"Ask me what I'd give for a working flare gun," Jovian grumbles. "Is the chance of needing them significant enough to merit posting a signal ship in the roads here, and another one patrolling, say, here-ish?" He indicates an area that ought to allow line of sight foretop to foretop, and thence to the island. "To relay a beacon from the castle?"

He frowns at the chart, not liking the signal range in case of bad weather. "Damn shame none of us have firelizards."

"I'll take that as a 'no'," Caine says. "If you're only going to be gone overnight, it shouldn't be a problem. If you're to be gone much longer, I'll work something out. I assume that lovely lady you escorted to my brother's ball is in charge of your riders in your absence?"

"Yes; her name is Kourin and her dragon is gold Hoshith."

After Jovian answers that question, Caine adds, "Give your father my regards, and let me know if you hear anything about your brother. I'd like to know that I didn't keep him from bleeding to death in vain."

"I spoke with Daeon earlier," Jovian nods. "He seems in good health, and giving Dad migraines - which is normal. Your quick action is much appreciated."

"The pleasure is mine. I've had enough of bleeding nephews for the next millennium between him and Random's boy," Caine says.

Turning as if to go, Jovian catches himself. "Oh, I nearly forgot," he says, raising an index finger as if to himself. "When the King offered his help to Dad, he mentioned that you would be the one to talk to about borrowing a Castle Trump. On the off chance that Dad should be finished talking before tomorrow evening," he adds with a lopsided sardonic grin, a one-shouldered shrug completing the implicit question.

Caine fishes out his deck and shuffles out a card, which he rises and hands to Jovian. "I'll look for you tomorrow," he tells Jovian. The dismissal is inherent in his tone.

"Thanks," Jovian nods. "See you tomorrow." He turns and leaves, making his quick but unhurried way back to Canareth and aloft.

He paints the coordinates in his mind carefully - the light of false dawn the morning after they left to investigate the firelillies, the guards just before shift change at the farthest point in their rounds from the window he and Cambina had gone through three weeks before - or would a week later, depending on your point of view. He gives the command, and black, blacker, blackest.... they were there. And then.

Jovian made his way into the family wing quickly but quietly, pausing at a writing desk in the library to jot a quick note - regrets to Marius for having to miss breakfast. "You had the courtesy to leave a note," Cambina had said, or will say - he had already done it, so he had to do it.

Someday, he vowed, he was going to write a monograph on the grammar of time travel.

Note safely tucked under Marius' door, the rider made his way out the window again and thus aloft as the first edge of true dawn limned the ocean. He had a little time, so rather than abuse the medium he let Canareth stretch out in a long, easy glide toward the beach.

The wings were ready as they knew they had to be, gear packed to go. There was little delay, only enough to ensure nothing was forgotten and instruct Kourin to land without him - and the watchword to give the J'rim she would meet on the island: three bells, thirteen minutes, 25 seconds.

And so aloft. He prepared the coordinates carefully, composed in his mind every detail of the atoll the instant the wings had, or would, burst into being. He extended and strained his senses, the Pattern lighting up his nerves: he wanted to be aware of every nuance of this transit. There had to be a reason why it would fatigue the wings so much more than normal.

The order was given and they leapt through the void. It occurred to him to wonder whether the trick of ripping through Shadow that Dara's companion had managed used the same medium of non-place in a more efficient manner, but before the thought could form fully, place and time erupted into bright, brine-scented being once more.

He paused only long enough to collect status reports and remind Kourin: three bells, thirteen minutes, 25 seconds.

Status reports were given. All was well.

Whuff. He was gone again, crossing that span through airless dark. Whoosh. He returns to the present tense.

Jovian and Canareth spiral down to the beach where the dragons and riders are relaxing again and once again finds Kourin.

"My father's got a problem in Arden, he needs me there briefly," he explains. "But I have to Trump in. He's too near the home of the creature that killed Valenth - I can't risk taking you there, Canareth," he adds aloud over his shoulder to the great bronze. "If you stay here with Hoshith and the rest, and her rider has a way to contact me, can you handle not being able to hear me for a little while?"

//I will wait.// Jovian can tell his dragon is putting a brave face on things.

"Be careful, Jovian," Kourin says.

"I will. I won't be alone." He gives her a quick hug, but resists the temptation to steal time and linger.

Jovian presents Kourin with Ossian's sketch [of Jovian], briefly explains what it is and how it works, encourages her to try it then so she'll know how contact feels. And if she does so, suggests she touch Canareth while in contact, to see if he can join in the communication.

Kourin is able to use the sketch without difficulty.

//I can talk to you. Here I am. You're right here.//

He doesn't seem to grok the idea of "talk through the Trump", so you can't test meaningfully whether or not he can enter the contact.

A quick tour of the site to ensure all is in order, and he draws his Trump of Julian from his jacket pocket, focusing his concentration on his father's cool intellect.