Hannah had stayed later than she liked at the office, the end of a frustrating day at the end of a frustrating week. Between the white-man's government back east that didn't really want to be bothered with their obligations and her own people who could be pig-headed to the point of willful ignorance, there were times when the job was almost undoable. Still she'd made a lot of progress, and she had made her people's lives better.
She could have slept in the back room of her office, but Hannah had promised her father that she'd go to Red Cap Hill that night. She felt too young to be a 'respected elder' but she was the only white-trained doctor on the reservation, so she was consulted on many things, even when the people consulting her had no intention of listening to her. In some ways her people were like the white men.
Given the clear, coolness of the evening, it seemed only natural to cross the hills rather than take the road. The road was, after all, two or three times as long, winding around the hills and avoiding the most direct route to Red Cap Hill. Since that eliminated taking a wagon, she only had to choose between her feet and her horse's hooves.
["To Horse or Not to Horse?", that is the question...]
[To Horse, definitely to horse.]
About halfway there, and miles from anything, Hannah saw it on the rocks. At first she thought it was a wolf or coyote, but it was silent and the body wasn't right. The moonlight seemed heavy as she approached. It did not occur to Hannah that she might not want to come close. The beast turned and she realized that she was looking directly into the face of a Unicorn, a totem of the white men if ever there was one.
Hannah felt, knew at an emotional level, that the unicorn wanted something from her.
Dismounted, as she is by then, she kneels, as much to stop herself from going any closer than in homage. "Great Mother One-Horn," she whispers, "what is the need, that you have traveled here?"
She digs her fingers into the earth beneath her, trying to listen for Misae behind her, afraid she would spook.
Misae seems quiet, unperturbed by the Unicorn.
Hardly noticing the cool of the night, or the moisture of the ground through her buckskins, she relaxes into the balance of being in mid earth and the animal realm at the same time, and waits for the unicorn to speak, in whatever way it does so. A slow smile spreads across her face and a new energy comes as she considers many stories about these beasts, and what it might mean to speak to one. And all it did not mean, as well.
The eyes of the Unicorn seem to hold great wisdom and age. The creature steps down from the rock, not taking her eyes from Hannah's. Hannah can hardly breathe. Her heart beats like a drum. The Unicorn turns and takes four steps away from Hannah, stops, and looks back.
Hannah notes two things immediately. The Unicorn is somehow the most 'real' being she has ever met. And the Unicorn seems to be slightly transparent.
She stands to follow, quietly calling Misae after her out of habit, but unconcerned whether the mare comes or not. Senses on high alert, she notes the moonlight, the scent, and tries to hear the sound the Unicorn's hooves should be making.
A thousand questions blossom, but she holds them in, biting the inside of her right cheek, and tracks along behind the creature.
Her hooves make no noise, as if they hardly touch the ground, as the creature moves forward. At first she maintains a walking pace, but soon she speeds up. Hannah is forced to ride to keep up.
Clouds cover the moon, and when they clear some moments later, the moon has moved itself some distance across the sky. Hannah does not recognize where she is, but the unicorn seems to be leading her along a path. Hannah looks behind her once, and it does not resemble the way she has come. She hears noises, far away, that sound like waterfalls, but she sees no water.
Dawn comes some moments after this, and again the land is very different. The Unicorn comes to the edge of a woods and waits. Hannah has not heard of a woods like this, which reminds her of the East, anywhere near her people's land. She's not sure Misae will go into it. The air seems very wet.
Hannah leans down to speak with the horse, rubbing her neck reassuringly. "Go on, Misae. You've followed Her this far. She's waiting for us."
If Misae will not cooperate, Hannah will get down and try to lead her, but either way keep following the Unicorn.
She wants to get close enough to touch the Unicorn, if she can, when/if it has more substance to it.
[heck. GM failure. The unicorn solidified as soon as Hannah started following it, when she left behind the place she had been...]
Misae registers her unease, but lets Hannah lead her into the forest. The canopy thickens and lowers as the Unicorn leads further inward, and after a long walk wherein Hannah loses track of time, the Unicorn comes into a grove in the forest. The grove is dominated by a large basin filled with clear water. On the far side of the pool is another creature, this one even stranger than the unicorn.
It has the face and wings and talons of an eagle, king of the skies, but huge, with a wingspan of more than a dozen feet. Behind it is the body of a mountain cat of some sort, but purple-furred, fading into the purple-blue-white of the wings. On one side Hannah can see the remains of an old wound, a pair of jagged scars down the creatures' flank. More recent and more dire, the right foreleg, which is taloned, is healing badly from a break. The creature will be crippled if it heals as it is. Already it looks like it is underweight.
It roars a challenge when Hannah follows the unicorn into the grove, and struggles to rise. It quiets when the unicorn approaches it. The unicorn walks past the griffon and climbs up a rock the overlooks the pool. She is watching the scene below. The griffon watches Hannah, but makes no moves to flee or fight.
Misae seems very nervous.
Hannah sighs, looking from the Unicorn to the griffon. "It has to be hungry," she mutters darkly. She keeps a firm grip on Misae's lead while she shoulders her pack. Not that there is anything of much use in it, beyond the knife.
[I wonder if Hannah knows what griffons eat, traditionally? <weg> ]
[Hopefully not women or horses, is what she's thinking!]
"The favorite food of a Gryphon, above all else, is horse meat. " [True. (not all canonical, but the diet part is traditional)]
[not mine! Maybe another. Of course, Hannah's thinking about hydration... bunch of juicy rabbit snacks maybe.]
[Hannah sees neither rabbit snacks nor Purina Gryphon Chow to hand.]
[oh, good lord, (laughing.) For a shiny coat and healthy... uh... beak.]
The knife she takes out and uses to cut her mare's bridle. That length of horsehair goes into her pack for later. "The big eagle-thing looks hungry, so I won't tie you up. If you stay close enough to come back when I call, I will try to get one of his feathers for your bravery. If you don't, I won't blame you at all, Miss," she tells the mare and rubs her affectionately on her white sun before sending her off with a slap to the rump.
She turns back around and looks at the creature. Underfed. Injured. Beak and talons. She chews the inside of her cheek. "Food, food, food. Perhaps." She decides to try to approach it first and see how it reacts.
"Since you haven't tried to eat me yet..." she begins, putting the utilitarian knife back in her pack. She walks toward it, cautiously. "It seems your friend wants me to fix your leg. Will you let me fix your leg?"
She keeps up a steady steam of babble about its pretty feathers and its strong chest and so on, approaching and trying to look as non-threatening as possible, while still not looking like a snack. That is to say, she looks confident.
The griffon turns his beak towards the unicorn, and complains raucously. He spreads his wings and his feathers are puffed out. The unicorn neither retreats nor advances, and Hannah approaches the beast more closely.
She can tell as she approaches that it's a bad break in the foreleg. The bone juts out of the flesh, and is no bird's hollow leg but as thick and strong a bone as she could imagine. Hannah's teachers would never believe that such a creature could fly. Then again, they would never believe that such a creature could exist.
The bone needs to be set, and the infection of the wound needs to be dealt with. The animal is probably hungry as Hannah surmised. It does not look as if it has been well-fed recently.
Hannah's brow furrows. She'd been thinking it was the unicorn's mindless pet until that last exchange between them. She sighs. "This would be easier if you could talk to me," she mutters. She slowly sets down her bag and moves in to try to touch the griffon, somewhere that is not injured.
The shoulder is very odd, with both the foreleg and the wing joined to it. The musculature is looks extremely strong and it looks like the beast can both run very fast and grab things as well. It would have to run very fast to get that much mass off the ground.
"Are you air and earth, a fiercious eagle-lion? Will you use your eagle eyes to see I want to help you? Will you use the strength of the lion to endure more pain? Or will you eat whatever is laid before you like a swine? I do not think you are a swine." She reaches up and pets it on the shoulder, avoiding wounds.
It cries out again, although more quietly. The sound is to the cry of an eagle what a lion's cry is to a kitten.
Hannah touches the shoulder of the uninjured leg, feeling the complex pattern of tendons and muscles. She cannot help but look at the wounded leg, which is red but seems to have avoided infection. Or perhaps to have been purged of it.
If it tries to bite her, she will smack it hard on the top of the beak. If it doesn't she tries to get it used to her before inspecting the wounds on it's side closely.
Two old, straight scars, as if from a cavalry saber or similar weapon, show prominently against the leonine side of the chimerical beast. They are not recent and could reasonably be years old. Unless the wounds were very shallow, Hannah doesn't know how the creature survived. And they don't look like shallow wounds.
Hannah approaches closely and the beast smells like velvet to her.
"Ah, who did this to you?" Hannah mutters unhappily, feeling along the scar tissue. She takes her time. More than anything her goal is to get it used to her before she starts prodding where it will hurt.
The beast is nervous and weak, but becomes quiet as Hannah slowly touchs it and gets it used to her hands and presence. It has a lion's tail, but the tufts are made of feathers.
Eventually she works her way down the the broken talon. She gives the Unicorn a dry glance before very gently laying a hand on the talon to test its reaction. "It would help me if you sat back," Hannah suggests, smiling up at the creature. She motions with her hands, like she might for a pet, to sit.
The wings flutter back a bit, but then the creature sits, the talon still off the ground.
Whether it sits or not, Hannah starts singing, a little song she uses to try to distract children. She tries to see if the break extends or is multiple below or above the compound would, and if it's complicated by an artery.
Setting the bone could be risky to an artery, but there's no visible arterial damage now. Not visibly, anyway. In Hannah's professional judgement, the beast was most likely hit from behind with something that snapped the bone. If it'd hit an artery, that would have been the end.
Hannah sees the expected damage on the back of the forelimb, blunt trauma, some abrasions but not dangerous.
The most interesting thing to Hannah is that the wound looks like it was infected at some point, but is currently not.
Hannah looks up at the Unicorn. "Did you clean this?" she asks.
The unicorn makes no gesture of any sort, but continues to watch the medical treatment of the Griffon.
She looks back at the griffon. "I'm going to get us cleaned up, and then I want to fix your... leg. But first," she looks around the clearing, "I must see what I can find."
Hannah takes her pack with her and searches out limbs for braces first. She's also looking for oak-like or willow-like bark, various antiseptic herbs (and she's guessing, yes) and some kind of leaf (leaves) she might be able to use as a bowl. Or a rock with a hollow would be even better.
Hannah finds what she wants quickly, remarkably quickly, except for the antiseptic herbs. The water in the basin is very clear and very clean. In the sand in bottom of the basin, Hannah sees a single hoofprint, clear and undisturbed. The water smells fresh and seems to flow from one end of the basin to the rock on which the unicorn is standing.
Near the hoofprint is a rock that looks like it will fit Hannah's needs.
Once Hannah has found what she can, she heads back to the griffon, laying everything out the way she likes it. She cuts the hemp pack up into strips with the knife, and starts pounding her herbs up into a makshift poultice. She chatters on the entire time, explaining what she's doing.
The griffon seems to have resigned itself to her presence.
Hannah uses the water just to clean up around the break the best she can. Once she's satisfied she's done what she can do without having to get a fire going, Hannah focuses herself with brief meditation and prayer.
"This is going to hurt," she warns the griffon, looking up into its eyes, "but you can not pull away and you can not bite, claw, or otherwise attack the doctor. Hurting the doctor could kill you. Roar, sqawk, or otherwise make any noise you need to. Are you understanding me?"
She looks hopeful that it will understand, but either way she kneels up and gets a good grip on either side of the break. Without hesitation, she pulls and resets the bone, wary of the artery.
Hannah looks at the bone and realizes that she alone of all the people she knows has the strength to mend this bone. The abilities that she has that have always baffled the few others that have discovered them are not just helpful, but necessary in this circumstance. She reaches for the wounded limb and deftly pulls and resets the bone.
As she pulls, the griffon roars, and the sound seems incongruous coming from the beak of an eagle. The limb is properly set but Hannah feels a great deal of warm, wet blood on the back of the leg. It could be another, more minor artery. One that was crushed by the bone but is now free to bleed. This could be bad.
Hannah slices through more pack, and ties off above the fracture to stop the bleeding.
She comforts it, the poor thing. Petting, calming, looking for a pulse so she can begin to get an idea of what it's normal heartrate (heartsrate?) might be, once it's calmer. She knows it is going to be under stress, no matter what she does, but anything she does that seems to work at calming it down, she keeps up.
Once it has calmed down some, she's going to sit down and feel around the wound, very carefully, trying to locate all the arteries, tendons, muscles and so on. She knows there is very little she can do for a ruptured artery with the tools she has. But keeping the bloodflow turned off too long will kill the limb.
Hannah sighs and considers exploratory surgery. Not something she usually would do, but she has no idea beyond touch what the physiology of this griffon's leg is, nor how bad that artery may be damaged. It may heal itself, it may not be viable...
She chews on her bottom lip. Nothing to numb the poor creature. It could go into shock if she starts cutting it open. But it could go into shock from the bloodloss if she doesn't.
Hannah decides on test A: untie the leg and let it bleed for awhile, see if it stops. If it doesn't stop and begins to seem unsafe, she'll tie it back up again.
After a while, the bleeding stops. The creature seems a bit unsteady, but not necessarily in shock. Hannah could probably wrap up the wound and attach the splints.
When she looks up at the rock, the Unicorn is gone.
She wraps it and splints it the best she can using the sticks, her rope from the horse, and the scraps of material that were once her pack.
Hannah tries to conserve as much rope as possible for hunting purposes. Once she's got the beast splinted she gets up and pets on it again to calm it, and herself. She tries to look at it's eyes for dilation, only guessing at what that might indicate in the creature, but a student to the end, nonetheless.
They're cat-like slit eyes, and they are evenly dilated, which is about as much as you can tell.
"You are a facinating creature. I wish you could talk in my language, or me in yours."
Once it seems settled from the poking and prodding, she'll wash up again in the pond.
The water in the pond is cool and clear and quickly runs clean.
"Now, my friend, I'm going to find us some food. Just rest, please, no hunting yet." Then she'll pick up her knife, and her rope, and go hunting for rabbits. Fat, juicy rabbits. With an eye out for edible looking roots and berries.
Not only does Hannah see no game, she realizes that she sees no signs of game, or other fauna. No insects, no birds, no trails, nothing. She hears a small brook babbling over a low rise, and indeed comes upon it. There are berries there, and they look edible.
With no birds around to tell, and no other food either, she picks what she can carry in her skirt and heads back, muttering to herself. "No wonder it's hungry. Nothing to eat. This isn't right. There are usually more. More of everything. Maybe it doesn't need to eat, being a magical creature. But then... no, it's thin and hungry. Where did that Unicorn go..."
As Hannah approaches, she hears voices coming towards the basin from behind the rocks.
Her eyebrows go up, and she hurries back to her patient, careful not to lose the berries.
As she starts to scurry away, she hears a male voice say, "Now where is that griffon? I know he's around here somewhere!" The tone is kindly, if a touch exasperated.
A female voice answers, "Great-grandfather, how do you work Shadow to find someone when you are not sure where they are?"
[Brita has been actively trying to feel for whatever changes are occurring while following Dworkin]
Hannah moves to place herself in front of the griffon, protectively. Well aware she looks ridiculous, with a skirt full of berries, and a smallish knife and short rope clutched in her right hand as well as the skirt, she gets a wry grin.
Brita has decided to try to help out a little and try her new Power. She takes a slow breath and closes her eyes. She envisions a soft, gentle breeze wafting in from various directions to see if she can pick up the animal's scent.
Brita finds that she cannot work the stuff of shadow here. It's too difficult to grab onto, to hold, to mold in the ways that Master Reid and her mother have described. But the wind is there, either of its own accord or of Dworkin's working, and she can indeed smell the blood of the griffon, and the blood of Amber, and fresh, mouth-watering berries.
Hannah can feel the wind too, and knows that the blood is strong enough to be noticed by anyone downwind of her. She herself could use a bath, but it would take a sensitive nose to notice that and the berries over the griffon blood.
[Brita's] eyes suddenly spring open in surprise. She had not expected such a strong impact, nor the second scent. "Great-grandfather," she whispers as she reaches out to forstall his movement forward, "be careful. There is a wounded animal over there..." and she points off to the left beyond some rocks, "... as well as a Relative."
Dworkin sounds alarmed. "Wounded animal? Something's happened to Wixer!" And he shakes Brita off with surprising strength and hurries around the rocks.
Brita's gives the surrounding folliage a long suffering eye roll and follows quickly.
Hannah sees a tall fellow, close to six feet tall, wearing a fancy coat with too many pockets and long trousers. He has a mop of dark, curly hair and huge eyes, which almost seem to pop out of his head. When he catches sight of the griffon, his mouth opens in dismay, and he almost runs over to the creature, paying very little attention to Hannah.
"Wixer!" he cries, and the griffon makes a weak crooning noise. It sounds suddenly far worse than it did before. "My poor Wixer!" the fellow cries again, and kneels beside the griffon. "What happened to you?"
Hannah watches the man with unhappy creases marking her forhead. She's wearing a light brown, deerskin gown. It's fairly well-worn, but not ragged. It is fringed around the upper arms. Her heavy black hair falls to the middle of her back, where it has been cut straight across. A woven necklace is visible peeking out of her neckline, but whatever hangs from it is hidden.
She has on beautifully beaded moccasins. Her skintone is not all that fair, but not dark either - her ankles are definately more pale than her face and arms. Blue eyes follow the man kneeling next to the griffon.
"Do not touch that leg," she demands, turning to go over and enforce that order if she needs to.
At about the same time, a tall woman appears around the rocks. She is dressed in a thigh-length red jacket, cut in a formal military style, black pants and boots. Her long, straight light red hair hangs freely down her back. A section of hair, caught in the wind of her movement, seems to almost be blond. Her green eyes quickly scan the area, taking in the Griffon (a raised eyebrow indicates an interest in this odd beast) and the familiar pool before settling on Hannah.
The woman changes direction slightly to come closer to Hannah. "Great-grandfather will not hurt Friend Wixer, Kin." As the woman stops, Hannah can see she is over 6 ft tall (6ft 2in) and is inspecting Hannah with a piercing gaze and a quizical look. A slight nod of decision, and the woman speaks again. "I am Brita, daughter of Lord Vidar and the Princess Fiona. Who are your parents?"
Then with a glance down, "Are berries still the only thing to eat here?"
Hannah looks up at this giant of a woman, but to her credit, she's only slightly bewildered. Hannah holds her skirt up a little higher to offer Brita berries. She cracks a smile. "I don't know that they're safe, but if you'd like to try them... I could not find anything else."
Brita takes some of the proffered berries, sniffs at them and then samples a couple.
She looks back to watch what the woman's great-grandfather is doing to the Griffon. "My father," she begins with a small shrug, figuring this can not get any stranger, "is Chief Inshtamaza and my mothers are Mary, Tainne and Mimiteh."
And then she adds to the griffon, "Your name is Wixer?" She looks back up at Brita to confirm this information, since it's obvious if the griffon was going to start talking, it would have done so already.
Brita nods in confirmation. "That is what Great-grandfather has told me. Three mothers." Brita cocks her head to one side and considers. "I suppose that is better than not having one. How did you come here?"
Hannah glances between Brita, the Griffon, and the curly headed man and realizes, yes, this can get stranger. Much stranger. "A Unicorn came and got me." She grins.
"Where are we?" Hannah asks, still smiling.
"A unicorn? Great-grandmare, probably." Brita looks around the clearing. "As to where we are, Great-grandfather could probably answer better than I. I have been here once before, but was led in and out by another. It is near Amber - which probably means little to you." Brita turns back to Hannah. "And your name, Kin?"
"Ah, yes. Hannah Le Corbeau," she holds out her hand to shake. "That's one of them, as it stands." She winks at Brita.
Brita accepts and returns the handshake and gives a grin at the wink.
"The... Unicorn is your great-grandmare? How are we kin, do'ya think?" Hannah looks very curious, but keeps glancing at what 'great-grandfather' is up to.
Brita's gaze follows Hannah's. "Yes, that is what I'm told. She is... Family and Religion rolled into one." Brita turns back to Hannah.
And Hannah looks back at Brita with a strange, considering look.
"We are family, Kin Hannah, because you carry the blood of Amber. The names of your parents do not sound familiar, but I know that there are several of the Cousins whose Amber parents did not go by their Amber name while roaming the Shadows and there are others who are different generations so it could be an ancestor of yours that was an Amberite. Were all your parents around while you were growing up or has one of them been gone for a while? What did they all look like?"
"Wait," Hannah says, taking a deep breath to process all that. "We're not in the outer earthen realm. We are... not anyplace I have been. What does this word 'Shadows' mean, because your context isn't a match to my understanding."
Brita considers the sky for a moment. "Shadows are all places between the Realities of Order and Chaos. They are the echoing waves between the two extremes, the 'shadows' or shades of gray between white and black."
Hannah scowls something fierce at this definition.
A slight depreciating grin preceeds, "Well, at least that is what I was taught by Master- Cousin Reid." Brita is watching Dworking pet the Griffon. "My Home was apparently one such Shadow," a slight frown mars Brita's brow. "Through recent events, I would think that it is near the mid-way point of the scale from Order to Chaos." She is thinking of the large tree from which the Nine Worlds spring. "I was sent away with Master Reid and he led me through other Shadows until all disolved and were reformed. Eventually Master Reid was able to find the way back to Amber. The Ordered Reality used to be equivalent to Amber, but now...I no longer think it is."
Brita shakes off her reverie. "Well, I should contact my Mother so she won't worry when she finds out I didn't make my intended destination." She moves over to Dworkin, giving the Griffon Wixer a bow on her approach. "Friend Wixer, I hope you heal quickly. Great-grandfather? I should really contact the others before I get in trouble for not being where I should be. I would like to introduce you to my Brother Conner, but would need to get to a Trump since my sketch no longer works. Would you help Kin Hannah and I get to Amber or Paris? I do not seem to be able to grasp hold of the Way yet."
Hannah's brow creases.
Dworkin has been carefully examining the griffon, cooing at it and listening to its return croons. "Oh, yes, Brita, I'll have to do that. I don't know where your brother Conner is, but I can get you back to Paris. Amber would be a little more difficult, but if I had the Jewel--no, she gave it to Random!"
Dworkin turns to Hannah. "You've done very well with Wixer. I think he likes you. Did you really see her?"
Hannah kneels down in front of Wixer and dumps the berries from her skirt onto the ground. She nods, relaxing into more of a sitting position. "She led me, well, I think it must have been a long way. Then she stood up there and watched," she motions with her head to the rock. She grabs a handful of berries and tries to tempt the griffon with them.
"I do believe she wanted me to set Wixer's leg. Do you know how he broke it, or how he received these other wounds? And why is he here, where there is no game?" Hannah is concerned about her patient, but not accusing in her tone.
During their exchange, Brita has pulled out a couple of cards from an inner jacket pocket. "Do you think I should call Mother, Great- grandfather?" she asks.
"Yes, Brita, you should do that. Your mother will worry. She was always a worrier."
Brita moves slightly away from Hannah and Dworkin and focuses on the card bearing her mother's image.
"Wixer will want something a little heartier than berries, I think," Dworkin says, although Wixer takes a few from Hannah's fingers.
"He was brought here to guard me. I don't know quite how he was hurt, but Time has been behaving a bit oddly for a while. I shouldn't have gone beyond Ygg again. It was a bad idea." Dworkin frowns. "Probably it was during the battle, and I don't remember. Remaking the universe takes a lot of attention, you know."
Hannah blinks. "I imagine it does." She glances up at Brita to see what she thinks of this statement. [I presume she's going to find her starting at a card of some sort.]
[Yes. or talking to it]
He plucks a few berries from Hannah's skirt. "Must keep my strength up. Hope you don't mind. Candy isn't really enough for dinner. We should go catch some trout. Do you like trout? I don't mind it every now and then, but it is dreadfully dull if you eat it too often."
"Trout sounds delightful. I really don't have anything that will do for a net. Are we going to spear it? Seems like it will be hard to get enough to feed, um, Wixer, without a net."
"I can find a net," Dworkin says brightly. "That I can do, yes, that I can do indeed. Brita's right, you know. You are one of ours, mine and hers. She brought you up here to help poor Wixer, but she brought you because you're one of ours. You could walk it, if you wanted. But probably not an empty stomach."
Hannah grins and shoves a few berries in her mouth. She chews quickly and swallows. "I'm one of yours, hm? Yours and the Unicorn's? I've got to tell you, that just sounds..." she shrugs, not willing to insult him. "My father might want to have a word with you about that, if it's true."
"And this is the place you reside? This is not... a realm I have traveled to before," she states, admitting the thing that she finds most confusing in all this.
"If she were leading you, you could go most anywhere. Oh, yes indeed. Me, I live here sometimes. I used to live in Amber, and I've lived other places."
Dworkin begins to sing a little tune: "How many miles to Avalon? Threescore and ten. Can I get there by candlelight? Yes, and back again."
Hannah grins at this.
He suddenly becomes quite lucid and says, "I rather expect your father is one of my descendants too, Hannah. Who did you say your mother was?"
Hannah's smile falls away.
Without much of a pause for an answer, he calls to Brita, "If your mother is coming, tell her to pack a picnic basket. With a big salted ham for Wixer."
"No, something juicier, something bloody," Hannah calls after. "Is she calling her mother with magic?" she asks.
"It's a Trump. Very useful. I'll have to make one of you sometime," Dworkin says.
Hannah nods, accepting this at face value.
"My mother... by which you refer to the woman who gave birth to me, I'm certain. I believe she came and went. My father doesn't speak of her, and I have had mothers enough," she smiles.
"Who is your mother?" she asks politely, since that seems to be the way these people get to know each other.
"Me?" Dworkin looks startled. "I don't really have one, not in the sense that you mean. And the one who comes closest is long, well, dead I guess is the best way to think of it. I don't have much of anyone any more, I suppose," he adds sadly. "My children are all gone and she doesn't come here very often. And of my students, the greatest went mad and died. It's only distant kin such as Brita who come up here any more. And, well, you, Hannah."
Wixer whines at Dworkin. "And you, of course, Wixer. Goooood Wixer." The whine changes to a happy croon.
Wixer's behavior makes Hannah smile. "Well, if you want to make a magic Trump of me and talk to me with it, I think that would be nice. You do seem to keep interesting company, as it is. I was curious, about Wixer. He shouldn't hunt until his leg heals. Is there someone who can look after him? Watch the wound for infection?"
"Oh, it won't get infected. She takes care of that," says Dworkin. "I'll be here, but sometimes I don't remember things. A function of having too much on my mind."
"She should bring him some food, then, too," Hannah mutters.
"She can't do that," says Dworkin. "It's not a cornucopia!"
He pets Wixer again, then pulls out a little notepad (about the size of a steno pad) and a pen, and begins to sketch Hannah.
Hannah laughs at that image.
Hannah watches this with fascination. She can only do basic medical sketches - enough to get her point across.
Dworkin is a surprisingly realistic artist for a fellow who doesn't seem to live in the real world. After a few minutes of sketching, Dworkin says, "Fiona's here," and when Hannah looks over at Brita, she sees a tiny red-haired woman in white man's clothes with the girl. There is also a picnic basket and a wrapped joint of meat, presumably for Wixer.
Hannah looks down at her dress. Griffon blood. Berries. Grass stains. Not to mention buckskin. She sighs and quickly runs her hands over her hair and her tongue over her teeth.
A slight smile crosses [Brita's] face as she regards the smiling image dressed in green...
After a moment, the image on the card changes, but it is the same woman and the same smile, although the setting is different.
"Brita!" Fiona says, "I've been so worried about you. Where are you?"
"Hello, Mother. I hope you have not tried looking for me in Asgard. I did intend to go there, but I first thought to check on the Original Pattern and ended up with Great-grandfather." Brita glances towards Dworkin and Hannah. "We have also found a new Relative caring for Great-grandfather's Friend-Griffon Wixer."
"Dworkin and--a new relative. You'll have to tell me all about that," Fiona says. "Should I come through to you?"
Dworkin calls, "If your mother is coming, tell her to pack a picnic basket. With a big salted ham for Wixer."
"Great-grandfather would like you to bring food, Mother. There is nothing here but berries," Brita relays the request then she hears Hannah.
"No, something juicier, something bloody," Hannah calls after.
Brita nods as she notes to Fiona, "Kin Hannah thinks some raw red meat would help Friend Wixer. How long do you think it will take you to gather such? I am anxious for you to see... this place."
Brita can see her mother moving to the door and pulling the bell. A servant appears, and Fiona orders him to prepare a picnic basket, with dinner for four, and a wrapped joint of raw meat.
"As soon as they bring me the food, I'll come through, Brita. I think I definitely need to see your great-grandfather. Who is this Hannah, besides a family member?"
Brita glances back towards the Griffon and hovering pair. "Conner would like her - she appears to have healing skills. Great- grandfather likes her, too. She has three mothers, one father. She smells of Amber, but I have not determined the Link yet. She was led here by Great-grandmare."
"That's very interesting, very interesting indeed," says Fiona.
It takes a few minutes, but in due time the picnic basket and a large haunch of meat are brought to Fiona. She passes them through to Brita, and then steps through herself.
Brita brings the woman over to Hannah and Dworkin. "Kin Hannah, this is my mother, Princess Fiona."
Hannah puts on her best smile in the hopes of distracting this princess from her clothes. "Your Highness," she says with a curtsy, which is about as graceful as it can be in a buckskin dress. And then she offers her hand, "Hannah Le Corbeau.
The redheaded woman takes Hannah's hand in a firm clasp. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Hannah." She looks Hannah over, assessing qualities that Hannah isn't sure she could determine.
Then she turns her attention to Dworkin, who has risen to greet her, putting his pad away in one of his voluminious pockets.
"Hel-lo, Fiona," he says, and extends his arms to her.
"Old man," Fiona replies, with evident affection. "You've changed."
"Remaking the universe will do that for you. Besides, I decided I was tired of looking like your mother's impression of me. I thought I'd've seen you up here before now, Fiona, but I suppose you've been busy with Paris, and that other thing."
A shadow crosses Fiona's face. "I walked as close as I could, but things became too dangerous, and I returned to Amber. I thought you were discouraging me from coming."
"Not I," says Dworkin. "Strange, that." He shrugs. "Why don't you and I feed Wixer, and Hannah and Brita can set up this lovely picnic brunch you've brought?" He looks at the girls to see whether they're agreeable and extends his hands for the joint of meat.
"Certainly, Great-grandfather." Brita turns towards the basket to begin rifling through the contents. She speaks over her shoulder at Hannah, "Kin Hannah, do you think Friend Wixer was hurt somewhere near here or could he have travelled from afar with his injuries?"
Hannah comes to join her. "I wish I knew the answer to that. I'm not well read in Griffons. I'd say, just guessing, that it happened here, because he seems hungry. If he could hunt, I think he would, don't you?" She gets quieter, "Unless he's really a pet who is used to being fed."
She holds out her hands to help Brita with the food. Setting bones at the end of a long day always brought on hunger fits.
Brita nods distractedly, "I was thinking that Great-grandmare could have led him back here. I do not know if Friend Wixer can travel Shadow normally." She raises her voice slightly. "Great- grandfather? Has Friend Wixer been able to tell you how he got in this condition?"
Fiona and Dworkin are talking quietly as they feed Wixer the fresh meat. The wizard turns when Brita calls out to him. "I think it was during all the fighting, Brita. Your mother is thinking about casting a spell later to find out."
Hannah continues laying out the food, but looks over to make sure Wixer is eating. "That would be quite interesting to see," Hannah tells Brita.
Wixer is consuming the joint with enthusiasm.
"Mother's actions are generally quite interesting to follow." Brita agrees. As the last pieces of the meal are laid out, Brita sits down cross-legged on the blanket and begins munching on a chicken leg that she retained for herself. After the first bite, she starts slightly, remembering, turns and calls over her shoulder "The repast is ready!" She had too many times where uncles and cousins pushed her away from the tables of Valhalla to not take her meal when the opportunity exists.
Fiona and Dworkin rise and come to join them. Fiona sits daintily in a pool of her skirts; Dworkin seats himself crosslegged, careless of his long limbs. "Let's see, what have we here?" he asks, examining the lunch. Without waiting for an answer, he picks up a baguette and starts to make himself a sandwich.
Fiona begins to cut up an apple. As she slices it into pieces, probably meant to eat with the rich cheeses Brita and Hannah have laid out, she turns to Hannah, gazing at her with catlike green eyes. "I'm sure this is all very strange to you. You must have a lot of questions."
Hannah sits with her legs curled up beside her and covered by her skirts as much as she can manage. Hannah follows Dworkin's example and puts meat on bread.
"I have seen strange things before, but they do not compare, I admit." Hannah glances down at her food before looking back up at Fiona, trying to pare her questions back to one, for now. She glances at Dworkin and Brita and asks, "How is it you can tell I'm kin to you?"
She bites into her food, and waits.
Dworkin says, "Yes, Brita, that is an interesting question. How can you tell?" To Hannah, he adds, "I can just tell things sometimes. That's the way it works." He shrugs, and takes a bite of his sandwich.
Fiona looks amused, and prepares a slice of cheese and apple to eat while Brita answers.
Brita's unlady-like snort forces her to spend a few minutes coughing around a piece of bread. "Sorry," she says when she gets her breath. "To me, you just _smell_ like kin of Amber." -cough-
"If you had been of Asgard - my home - or any of the Nine Worlds or Chaos, I would be able to smell it." With a slight smile she bites off another piece of meat from the leg and follows it with a small piece of bread.
Hannah laughs. "I smell like kin. And your grandfather just knows." She shakes her head good naturedly. "Perhaps I'm a bit too scientific at times. I like to think I am more open to intuition than most people. What do you think?" she asks Fiona, with a raised eyebrow. "Am I kin?"
"If Brita says so and Master Dworkin says so, I think it likely. There are ways to be absolutely sure, but at least one of them is fatal if failed." Fiona glances into the distance, into the direction from which Dworkin and Brita came. Her gaze comes back around and homes in on Hannah, like green lasers.
"Or I could scry on the moment of your birth, to see who bore you. But I wouldn't do that without asking."
Hannah looks very interested, and overwhelmed at the same time. She takes another bite, and chews, thinking.
"Master-Creator Dworkin is my Great-grandfather, Kin Hannah," Brita notes. She glances at her mother, "I am not as scientific as my Mother, but my sent of your heritage is. How would you tell if Friend Wixer's wound was infected or his now denuded haunch of meat was rotten, especially if it were dark? You would smell it. Smell this orange," Brita directs holding out the unpeeled fruit to Hannah. Even with your eyes closed, the scent would tell you it is citrus. In it's skin, however, the scent is not as strong and hides whether it is a tangerine or a true orange."
Hannah grins, and sniffs. Once she swallows she says, "Oh, I believe you. I simply haven't meet anyone so sensitive in such a way, before."
Hannah turns to Dworkin, "So what do you create, Mr. Dworkin, beside magic cards?"
"Oh, a little of this and a little of that. Order out of chaos, occasionally." He blinks at Hannah. "Do you play the lyre, Hannah?"
Hannah shakes her head. "Is that a harp?"
"Sort of a variant. It's open across the top, and the musical scale is key to understanding some basic principles of mathematics, which you'll need to know to understand the roots of Order, which are--"
Fiona looks at Dworkin with fond exasperation as she cuts him off. "We can teach her that later, Master. If she wants to learn," she adds, looking at Hannah. After a moment, she continues, to the girl, "That the Unicorn brought you here means something. How did you encounter her, and what did she do?"
"Well, I'd left my office and was riding Misae to the council meeting. We had made it some distance into the woods when I saw her. She let me know she wanted me to follow, in that way animals have. I thought I had slipped into a different realm, which may be correct, but different from how I was taught the worlds work.
"Only a dimwit would ignore a Unicorn showing itself, though, so I followed her. We went on for quite a while, until we came here. She walked right past Wixer, and from his state and her look I got the point. She stood up over there," Hannah points to the rock, "and watched me while I patched him up. I suppose once she was satisfied I'd done what she wanted, she left. Or rather, she was gone; I didn't see her leave."
Hannah looks to Dworkin. "I think she must have cleared up an infection on that wound, because it was cleaner than it deserved to be. I'd heard stories a Unicorn could heal anything, but I reckon those were wrong, hm? At least for this one?" She's very curious.
"She can do the most amazing things, but she doesn't have opposable thumbs," Dworkin replies.
Hannah laughs. "No, no, she doesn't."
Fiona chuckles, almost as if in spite of herself. "So you're a healer. What kinds of patients do you accept when you're not being led by unicorns to patch up wounded griffins, Hannah?"
Hannah glances at Brita, letting her eyes fall on all the faces again before she answers. "I'm a doctor, but sometimes it feels like I see as many animals as I do people. I accept anyone who shows up at my door," she grins. "Makes for long days, some long nights, but I get to meet a lot of folks, and they're always so grateful. It's not a bad occupation to have."
Her smile widens. "I get fed often." She salutes them with her food. "What do you do?" she asks all assembled, and takes another bite.
Fiona says, "I am a student of metaphysics. Depending on your point of view, this might mean natural philosophy, theology, or magic. I am also an advisor to my brother, the King of Amber."
Dworkin says jerking his thumb at Fiona, "I used to have her job, when her father was king, but now I'm retired and I do what I please. Occasionally I take students, if they amuse me." And he looks fondly at Brita.
Hannah turns a smile on Brita, curious as to what Brita may say.
"At home, my job is to ensure the waters in the streams, rills, and brooks run clean. In Amber, I was assigned to help with the Rangers of the Great Forest Arden. I have learned control and meditation from Master Nygen, Trump creation and use from Master-Cousin Reid," at this Brita taps the pocket where her cards are kept, "and lately, a little of Mother's metaphysics from Queen-Grandmother Clarissa."
Hannah nods. A little overwhelmed by it all, suddenly, she concentrates on her food.
"Ah, Reid, that scamp. One of my best students of the cards, he was. Possibly my best, except for perhaps--ah, well, let's not talk about him," Dworkin says hastily, looking at Fiona. She is gazing off into a distance that neither Hannah nor Brita can see.
"What do you think you'd like to do next?" Dworkin continues, addressing both the girls, clearly filling the silence with words.
Brita glances at Fiona then back to Dworkin, "I had wished to visit my Home, to ensure...," she glances down at the orange in her hand, "...to ensure that the waters are still running clean." a sigh. "I had expected to proceed there immediately after assessing the state of the Original Pattern, but I was obviously not able to retain consciousness long enough." A smile. "Not that I am disappointed, Great-grandfather, as I was able to see you again and meet Kin-Hannah." a pause. "Mother, I do not know how best to proceed from here. I could Trump Home and then, with your permission, call you for a hand back, but I do not know the time differences. It seems there was much happening in Amber after my..." a grimace. "...after _Cleph_ took me away. Perhaps it would be best to go there with Kin Hannah first." Brita sounds almost sure about that decision.
Hannah holds up her hands. "Hold on now. First, I've got to find my horse. Then I... well, I suppose I could go to see this place, because there isn't much point of going back to the council without seeing it, at least."
She looks at Dworkin. "You don't suppose the Unicorn's going to come back here and lead me back, do you?"
"I wouldn't count on it," Dworkin says. "She might, but I wouldn't count on it. One of the things I always loved about her was her unpredictability."
Fiona looks sharply at Dworkin, then turns to answer Brita. "Hannah should go to Amber, but if you return, you will be swept up in events there. Julian could use your help in Arden. And--if I understand you," she says to Dworkin, "there will be other business in Amber."
"No," says Dworkin, "not in Amber." Fiona looks up at him sharply. "But Random will need all the help he can get, if the past is any indicator. How long will your streams go without being cleaned, Brita? If you go back to Amber, it may be a long time."
Brita's brows furrow, "I don't know. They may have... found someone else to replace me.... I... I want to go Home," she says in a small voice. "But I won't stay long. I will Call you, Mother?" and she glances at Fiona as she reaches into her jacket pocket for her Trumps.
Fiona says, "Hannah should come to Amber in any case. I think her skills could be very useful."
Hannah's head bobs along all the exchanges smoothly, and stops at Fiona's last comment. "What is wrong in Amber?" she asks.
Brita's hands still on the pack of cards she was shuffling through. She awaits the answer...or answers.
Fiona answers Brita first. "Of course you must go home, darling. But be careful, and keep your Trumps to hand. I would not have you lost the way Reid was." A shadow crosses over the redhead's face at that thought. It remains as she turns to Hannah.
Brita nods and smiles in response to her mother's admonition.
"My younger brother's legs were crushed in an accident some time ago. He is the best physician our family has to offer, and I am not certain that he is able to treat himself objectively. A second opinion in his case seems advisable."
Dworkin tsks. "It's a sad doctor who treats himself."
Brita, noting the issue is not a new unknown, returns her gaze to the cards. She pulls out the view of Jotunheim and concentrates on the image.
As the waves begin to move on the Lake of memories, Brita steps through.
Hannah watches, a grin spreading. When Brita is gone, she looks back at her remaining companions. "That is..."
She just shakes her head.
"So, I guess I should be gathering Misae," she says, and then stands up and stretches. "Oh," she lays a hand on Dworkin's arm, "you are going to come back and check on Wixer, right? And come get me if anything seems wrong. I think he needs a good lot of food. Can you help him with that?"
"Oh, yes," says Dworkin. "I think I can even remember it now. I don't have that hole in my memory any more."
Fiona flushes and looks at her food for a moment.
"Never mind," Dworkin says. "Never mind that now." He reaches out and pats Fiona's arm.
Hannah busies herself with the last of her sandwich.
[Fiona] looks up at him, and says only, "I'll see who's in Amber now." Then Fiona pulls out a deck of cards not unlike the ones Brita had, shuffling through them.
Dworkin rises and starts to come with Hannah.
Hannah walks over toward where she sent Misae off, and whistles for her. "Come on, girl," she mutters under her breath. She glances down at her clothing again in resignation.
Giving the horse a minute, she looks at Dworkin. "How did you get a whole in your memory?"
"Oh, sort of an accident, well, not exactly an accident, but I don't think they meant it to come out this way. Fiona's favorite little brother was trying to solve one of the problems with the metaphysical underpinnings of the universe and ended up doing a nasty little ritual that left me, well, not all here. Very literally not all here for a while. I'm better now, though."
Dworkin glances back at Fiona, who appears to be talking to a card. "She hasn't quite gotten over her brother's death yet."
There's no sign of Misae just yet, but that griffon smell and all the blood could be a bit offputting.
Hannah studies Dworkin instead of looking over at Fiona. She reaches a hand up to cup his cheek and get him to look at her. She squints as she looks at his eyes. "Are you sure you've gotten it all back? I mean to say, how would you know if you hadn't?" Hannah doesn't reach up to start feeling his skull with both hands, although she's sorely tempted.
"Well, we could trudge up and I could show you, but I'm not sure it would make any sense without an explanation. Would you like that? For me to show you?" Dworkin asks. "We mustn't tell Fiona what we're up to, though. She'll want to come along and I think it will just upset her again."
Hannah looks over at Fiona, scans the trees for her mustang, and nods. "I'd like for it to make sense, sir." She'll go, if he'll take her.
"We're going to go take a look for Hannah's horse. We'll be back in a while," Dworkin calls over to Fiona, and takes off in the direction he and Brita originally came from with surprisingly long strides. Hannah has to hurry to follow him until they're out of sight of Fiona, when he relaxes to a more reasonable pace.
After a little while, the two of them emerge out of forest onto an incline. Hannah scents the salt tang of the ocean as they come out. There's a path, which Dworkin takes her hand to help her down. It's about 300 feet, maybe 350. At the end of the path, there's an area of solid, unfractured rock, cupped in the path down. Hannah can see the sea off to her right.
There's a strange design etched in pinkish gold in the flat rock, one that resonates to Hannah like her heartbeat. She's never seen it before, but she knows it, in her bones and in her dreams.
"You see," says Dworkin. "All fixed. No more holes." He sounds very happy.
Hannah stares at it. "The... I..." She looks at Dworkin. She wets her lips.
"What is it, that it made you well?" she asks, thoroughly confused at her reaction and his statement.
"It's me, and I'm it. There used to be a stain on it, in the middle, and later it extended all the way out to the edge. I fixed it, with some help, and now it's fixed, and so am I." Dworkin gives Hannah a big, toothy grin.
"I wouldn't advise doing it just now, but you could walk it. One foot after the other, from the beginning to the end. I don't think it would make you understand, though. You'd still have to have lessons to know what to do afterwards."
She looks thoroughly intrigued. Hannah will walk right up to the edge, [and unless Dworkin stops her] kneel, and put hear ear against the rock, to listen.
Dworkin is about a half-step behind her. Although she puts her head down on the ground just away from the design, tendrils of her hair falls across it. When it starts to sizzle, Dworkin jerks her back.
"Careful!" he says, wild-eyed and concerned. "It could still kill you. Just because you can walk it doesn't mean you're safe."
Hannah nods, pulling the ends of her hair around to look. She scowls at them, and then meets Dworkin's eyes. "It is the inner fire of the drumming circle," she says, relating it the quickest way she can. "I should have seen that."
Dworkin looks at Hannah, wide-eyed and solemn, and nods. Hannah thinks he might even understand.
She gets to her feet and backs away from it. "This is you. That makes you so vulnerable. Both of you. How were you hurt?" By that last you she means the Pattern.
"One of my grandchildren took one of my great-grandchildren, one of your cousins, and cut him open in the middle there," Dworkin explains slowly, pointing to the center of the Pattern. "There were some other things, but that was the worst of it."
Hannah is stunned. Then she takes a step away from the Pattern. "Blood on the brain?" she mutters and scrunches up her nose in distaste.
She looks at Dworkin. "Who healed you?"
"Well, that's a long story. Suffice it to say I sort of had to remake myself with the rest of the universe reflexively trying to stop me. It wasn't very pretty."
Dworkin looks very sad. "And my son died helping me."
"Oh, that's... I'm sorry you lost him, but I'd do the same thing for my father. I'm sure that's how he felt." Hannah says, with a sympathetic smile. She looks back at the Pattern. "This is amazing. Art right from your deepest self? I don't think I could do it."
"Fortunately, it's not very likely you'll have to," Dworkin says. "Come on, let's see if that horse of yours has decided to wander back yet."
With a last look at the Pattern, Hannah and Dworkin head back up to where they left Fiona. There is nothing left of lunch, not even the basket. Somehow this doesn't surprise Hannah.
Misae is waiting with Fiona. Somehow that's right too.
Hannah bends quickly to grab a few of Wixer's feathers off the ground. Asking him to let her pluck at him after all he's been through just doesn't seem right.
"Ah, there you are. I was beginning to wonder whether you'd gone swimming," Fiona says. "I'll send you through to my brother Caine. I think Dworkin and I still have some things to discuss, so I'll follow you later."
"You'll check on what might have injured Wixer?" Hannah asks, as if her cooperation depends on the answer.
"That's one of the things we need to discuss," Fiona replies. Her lips curve into a smile, as if Hannah has said something that pleased her.
[Fiona] shuffles out a card from her deck and concentrates on it. After a moment, she says "Caine? I'm ready to send her through. Take the horse first." She mimes handing the horses' reins to someone, and somehow the horse disappears. It's very strange.
Then she takes Hannah's hand and passes it to someone. There's a masculine hand on the other end, and if Hannah hesitates, Fiona says, "Go!" and it's a command, so Hannah does.
Last modified: 10 July 2004