A Royal Reflection

"I think things are about to get bad," Llewella says. "Drink?"

"Yes, let's," Celina agrees. "Something wicked strong."

She waits until she has it in hand. "You and Garrett and Silhouette are witness to the Queen's will. Lark shall succeed me if I'm out of the story. Long live the Queen."

Celina toasts. Drinks.

"What would your mother do if things were going to go bad? Mmm?" Celina asks.

"Long live the Queen. Martin will never let you die."

Celina makes a face that is certainly, 'Martin iz not da boss of me.'

Llewella drinks as well, tossing back the entire beverage, and pours herself another.

"My mother? She'd probably be in Xanadu trying to fix Random, leaving your mother in charge here. She didn't like to leave anything unfixed."

She holds the pitcher up to see if Celina wants another.

"What does her granddaughter plan to do if things are going to be bad?"

Celina walks over and poses for a refill. She's thinking about the conversation with Moins.

Llewella starts pouring the heavy, fiery liquid into her niece's glass.

"A return of a very angry Pattern Queen is bad. Possessing a royal is bad. Enchanting a Pattern King, bad. Raping an unborn? Stealing a mind? Nightmarish." Celina shifts her thoughts to the Green and the Dame Mother of Tritons.

"But diplomacy isn't going to impress a Queen whose city is a ghost. And Rebma isn't ready to fight Moonriders in the streets of Xanadu. She seems prepared to work her will regardless of any ethic or familial obstruction. So I say we break the Moon."

Llewella nods. "An ambitious plan. Two questions. First, literally or figuratively, how will we accomplish this. Second, what will happen after?"

"Afterwards, everyone will be very cross with me," Celina says looking sad (and very moist), "but I think figuratively would work." Celina gestures with her free hand at the sky/ceiling, "What if there were a moon in the sky for every City of the Pattern? We could put symbols of Reflection in place, tuned properly, they would make a devious path that led the Moonriders around in the Sky instead of letting them enter our domains. Or we could paint the moon we have with Oberon's face."

Llewella looks sour at the mention of her father. "I'm sure he'd be happy about that. He was never one not to have an ego. I know there are moons in Xanadu, Amber, Avalon, and Paris. Tir must have one as well, or else share it with Xanadu. How do you propose hanging one here? Or is it already here and we just don't see it?

"And how do you plan on tuning them?"

"It occurs to me that the phases of the moon are linked to feminine magics that can be feared and exiled to the sky but not ignored by kings. So in Tir and here we would not have a moon. Our fears are different. The throne fears what reflects in ourselves. My mother seems so. The queens mirror is our moon. We need to look again at the device my mother made. She saw a future there she fled. Perhaps I need to look at myself with your help?"

Llewella pauses. "We'll put aside the fact that I don't think you're making sense, because that's not a problem, and may be a requirement in your job. I'd be happy to help you look at the future as your mother did."

"Good. Let's prepare for that. But I don't want to be unavailable in the current crisis. We should anticipate Conner or Martin calling for troops or magic." Celina pauses, "Or escape."

And now alone, Celina gives Llewella all the information Conner shared with her regards Vialle and Random, including the supposed 'trip to Rebma' that revealed the enchantment on the King. Celina includes her comments that Vialle has been party to Treason and Conner has discretion to be judge and executioner for that.

"With Conner absent I shall revue the mages we can spare. You review the Lances we can ready. We need this done soonest, if you haven't already done it." Celina looks for comment.

Llewella listens, almost completely managing not to drop her jaw at the revelations about Vialle.

"First, Martin will not come here unless there are no other options. Not because of Rebma, but because he's split his family for safety and wouldn't want to draw trouble towards them. Conner, maybe, but don't expect Martin."

She draws a breath and continues. "If Vialle was here, neither of us knew about it. But I can't imagine fooling Bleys and Fiona into thinking they were underwater when they weren't. They didn't fall off of the turnip wagon this morning. So, it would be good to find where they were and see if we can come up with any evidence or information about what happened.

"And, we have troops, but our strongest aren't able to function above the waves. And if it comes to troops, they'll just engage us here to tie us up, same as they're doing to Benedict. We should send someone up the stairs to see how Corwin's city is faring in his absence.

"And make sure your mother isn't running it."

"Yes, Mother has a nose for opportunity," Celina says quietly. "I think Sil and Garrett would volunteer for that, but that leaves us with protecting Lark. I need to stay arm's length from the child as I love her dearly. Can you manage her long enough for Garrett and Sil to scout Paris?"

"Hmmm. Between Atrios and myself, I'm sure I can. We need to see what's going on there. Hopefully it's just resemblance."

She sighs. "We're also going to have to do some groundwork with the various Shells if we're going to turn against Vialle. A lot of people don't remember disliking her when she lived here. She's now the Rebman who tamed the terrible, savage, murdering King of Amber. They do remember hating Random, by the way. And Random is blamed for Huon escaping justice."

Celina bristles visibly, "What?" She moderates her tone. "I understand Vialle has history and we can work on that. Tell me more about this nonsense with Huon, please. That was not an easy decision to make and I dislike what it says about loyalty to the throne."

Llewella sighs. "There are two ways to be Queen. You can expect everyone to act loyally and ignore a certain amount of loose talk, or you can expect everyone to think loyally and cut off a lot of heads. Going too far in either direction is risky."

Celina puts the back of her right hand to forehead. "Yes, my feelings are hurt." She sags dramatically.

Celina relaxes with a small smile. "Five sides to every story? I've heard that. What I meant by asking was what kind of logic ties Random into the queen's decision? If they think I'm in Random's pocket..."

"Who knows? I hear these things thirdhand at best. I am hardly inconspicuous in town. It was Random's nephew and niece who brought Huon to your court. So, they're not making stories up from thin air. Or maybe they are. It's always possible that a rumor in the court is baseless."

"Yes, going too far in any direction is risky." Celina studies Llewella a long time. "So we have a lot to do. You're going to review the Lances that Conner might need in a crisis, a daring group that won't make fools of themselves on land. Garret and Silhouette get to protect Lark while she guards the Throne. Then you'll prep and come get me for a look into Mother's Most Marvelous Mirror so I can face the Moon of Rebma. Somewhere past this, we will attempt to bind the Moons in a mobius of reflections. That should be a last resort because I'm not making sense."

Celina sips some more fire brew. She smiles at the glass. "I do like you, Auntie. You stretch my mind. Anything I've left out?"

Llewella looks put upon. "Let's see, you covered conquering the moon riders, the moon and your mother. Seems comprehensive. Which is our first priority? I go find Conner some land-capable troops? I know just the unit."

"Start with that, yes," Celina lays a hand on her aunt's arm. "Conner is very important to our City. Let's make sure we can give him our best. Once the unit is on alert and near at hand for any crisis, we'll move on to Lark and Mirrors." Celina adds, "And I'd like to check in with the mages Conner was organizing right now."

Llewella pats Celina's hand, and leans towards her. "The mages are useless, always have been. I appreciate Conner's diligence, but sifting through the grifters, frauds, and delusional charlatans isn't a great use of our time. Our best are twenty-three feet long and don't do well above water, but I'll find him some of the best who can. Vere walked off with 100 or so and I think we need them for our core group, or what's left of them. That'll give you 50-60 good, land-capable troops to put wherever you want.

"If they face the deserters, even better. If you do this, watch who reacts in court when you assign Castor to assist Conner. There are those who feel he failed his duty."

Celina nods once. "I suppose it is up to me if he failed his duty. So let them feel about it until they piss themselves." Celina sighs, "Thank you. I'll forget about the montebanks then, it was a long toss. Have those men prepare and search out others to bolster the force, send Castor to me for a private scary conference, from which he can exit my chambers with pale determined face and go be a hero, as needed."

Celina chews her lip. "Lark will return faster than a fancy meeting with me in my chambers. So send Castor to me here. The throne room is a better setting for dramatic horrors. Tell the Tritons to send me two for the same meeting." Celina smiles. "And Lir's blessing on us all."

Llewella bows, taking Celina's orders as a dismissal. She goes to fulfill the Queen's commands.

Castor is announced and enters, flanked by two tritons of the court. He bows deeply, looking every bit the young army officer that he is.

"You sent for me, Your Majesty?"

Celina gestures him forward. "Yes. Rebma needs you if you are ready. I would also like to know what you desire for the future of our city."

He bows, and it's clear he was taught the courtly graces at young age. "I am ready for anything, Majesty. I serve at the pleasure of the Queen." He pauses, looking slightly puzzled, and resumes speaking a bit more slowly. "I have not thought about the future of the city. I am a soldier, and I have always assumed that if the soldiers kept the city safe, then the future would would sort itself out."

Celina considers. "So you want things to stay the same. Whatever Queen sits the throne. I thought there might be something more based on your dedication and ambition. You cannot be ready for anything if you don't know the future and cannot shape it. As Queen, I wonder if the City will ever be that safe." Celina pauses, then, "What if you were not a soldier? What then?"

"Ambition needs a foundation of stability to build upon, your highness. My clan's livelihood depends on trade, which depends on security. Lord Vere was an excellent commander and teacher, if I may be honest, because I was looking to improve the quality and capability of the troops we had, in order to be better at providing security.

"If I were not a soldier, I do not know what I would be. Soldiering is the path of the ambitious, in Rebma. That is how we are channeled to improve our state. I will have to consider what might have been."

Celina thinks he may be holding back, but most likely out of concern not to say the wrong thing.

"Lord Vere is an excellent teacher, I agree. I'm also interested in you putting your troops on a versatile standing for security. So you have two legs of the stool of ambition underway. I'll listen when you have ideas about the third leg. It doesn't have to be today. It does not have to be here in court. My Lord Conner is in a dangerous mission for me right now. If he contacts me with a call for aid, I'd send you and your men. Consider your foundation well begun." Celina pauses for his reaction.

Castor nods. "I serve at the pleasure of the Queen. My men will be ready at your call, although more time to have men return from leave and resupply would be better. Anything that you can tell us regarding location that will help us provision and equip properly will also help us aid Lord Conner."

Celina sketches the little she knows of Xanadu and its odd topography. She speaks of the reputation fearsome of a Queen of Air and Darkness and her devoted people, the Moonriders. She mentions their battle skill and time trickery.

"Lord Conner is one of the most capable people I know. If he calls, it will be peril I send you into. Take my blessing with you."

Celina stands, takes his temples gently with her grip, and kisses his third eye.

Celina sends him away.

Llewella returns. If Celina seems busy, she waits. She doesn't actually request permission to sit on the chair, but she's never really been that keen on court prerogatives.

"I see that Castor has been and gone. How did he take his assignment?"

"As a loyal subject," Celina responds. "He looks forward to the training and opportunity." She looks satisfied until she shakes her head. "But his ambitions are pretty ordinary. We'll see. I was hoping for something more exciting. It's just something I'm going through."

Celina rubs her hands together as if chilled, "We've set ourselves to be ready, but Garrett and Lark are not returned. I wonder if Dolphin is leading them astray?"

Llewella snorts. "I think those two are capable of finding 'astray' without a leader. Do we have a trump of any of them, or should we send a triton to drag them back?" She smiles.

Celina smiles at Llewella's humor.

"Having ambitions beyond the social structure is ... not comfortable for most Rebmans. Don't expect too much of the Captain. Think about Vialle; she didn't accept her appointed place as a blind woman of status, and many people disliked her for it."

Celina nods at the lesson, her smile more wry now. She thinks about Lorena. Her thoughts rush past the sneering comment there and stop on Jerod's calm expression of support.

"I do not have a card for either of them. But it would be a good idea to have a Triton witness the defender of the Throne take up her duties. Ask three to attend us."

Celina gathers the sceptor and passes word to the pages that she expects Silhouette and party.

Llewella nods. One of the senior girls in the group swims away down a corridor, perhaps to assure that the Queen's expectation becomes a reality.

"I'd recommend waiting until the morning to make any kind of public assignment. Amberite she may be, but five-year-olds need more sleep than adults."

Celina immediately brightens and her eyes light with mystery. "Better. Why yes, that is what we shall do. She can rest in my quarters. The same three Tritons can have a vigil with the regular watch in my entry gallery."

Celina dials down her reaction, looking sideways at Llewella. "Perfectly ordinary to be concerned she get her rest."

Llewella stares back at her. "I can't be amazing all the time, you'd get used to it. Besides, I'm being practical here. Have you ever dealt with a toddler who hasn't had enough sleep? Although this one will probably just knife someone. She takes after her father."

Celina works at TaKhi control. No point in letting Llewella know she's amazing all the time and Celina will never get used to it.

She nods. She can't resist the whimsy, "I could use a nap myself. I'll just cuddle up with her. A rest before taking on a mirror tricks is a good idea."

Llewella nods back. "Remind her not to knife you in your sleep."

Celina tries not to grin, mostly succeeds, "Oh I take my naps seriously, so I will. And if ..." Celina decides against saying anything out loud that might spoil the moment.

There comes a soft knock at the door. A moment later, Silhouette enters and curtsies, "My Queen. Princess Llewella. May I present Princess Lark and Prince Garrett?"

She steps aside to let the pair enter the room.

Lark enters. "Hello, Aunt 'Lina!"

Celina retains the moment. Golden memories arrive and may be needed in darkness. "Come let me see how you've chosen to arm."

Garrett follows a step or two behind Lark. It takes effort not to look self-conscious in the new translucent outfit Silhouette picked out for him, but he makes that effort, standing tall with his new weapons at his belt. "Thank you, cousin, for the access to your armory. And to you, Silhouette, for the assistance." he says.

Silhouette nods to him, "My pleasure, cousin. I hope it will serve you well."

She bows to Llewella again and then moves to her deferent position behind the Queen.

Llewella nods to the bow, "Silhouette, we should talk later."

"Of course, m'lady," Silhouette replies. "I'm at your service, always."

Lark has a knife with her, which looks like a sword for her size. "My cousin showed me how to use it," she says, looking at Silhouette.

Silvered fish drifted lazily through the antechamber's shadows, their scales catching the prismatic light filtering through the singular window. A door opened, disturbing the waters. The fish retreated into the corners, disappearing into he numerous cracks and crannies of the room's coral walls. They nervously watched these strange intruders, unaccustomed to such interruptions to their routine.

Silhouette held the door open for Llewella, closing it after the princess entered.

"How may I serve you, milady?"

Llewella doesn't speak for a moment, looking the younger woman up and down.

Finally she steps back and says "How do you see your role in this city, Silhouette?"

Silhouette stands ramrod straight, "I am the Queen's adviser and confidant, as well as her somatophylakes... guardian." She folds her hands, almost as if in prayer. "I shall be such until she deems otherwise."

"I see," she says. Llewella doesn't sound pleased.

"And why do you think I'm asking you about this?"

"There are many possibilities.You are our elder. Perhaps you believe you'd serve better in this role. Maybe you had other plans for Celina or myself?" Silhouette says. "I'd require additional observation before providing the most likely answer."

"You are my sister's daughter and only surviving child. You are the peer of everyone at this court bar the Queen. You have proven yourself on the Pattern. Do you understand what that means?"

"The first point remains a matter of contestation," Silhouette replies plainly. "However, the subsequent points are beyond dispute. It has been difficult unweaving those narratives with Rebma's lessers. Sheep are silent around the lion. Now, they bleat more freely.

"Or would you prefer I be the lion in all things?"

Llewella ignores her protests. "When they determine that you have been playing at weakness, they will think you are mocking them, in which case, you will find them antagonistic, or they will think it is due to real weakness, in which case you will find them aggressive.

"In either case, it inconveniences me to have you pretend to a lesser station, because it reflects poorly on all of us. Any one of us could slaughter thousands to get our way, but we prefer not to have to do so. The legend of the Sorcerer Kings of Amber is a tool to let us have some peace."

Llewella sighs. "So, yes. Be more aggressive. All these scheming courtiers need to be in fear of what your next move is, or you'll forfeit the right to it."

Silhouette nods lightly. "Very well. Many already fear me due to my association with Huon and the damage he wrought with my weapons. That has garnered some positive attention.

"In the meantime, perhaps you might shed light upon something for me? I've been contacted by an agent of Moire's - or so she says. She requested that I wear a piece of jewelry in public. I intend to do so to further win their trust, but I hesitate due to my unfamiliarity with Rebman symbology." She describes it in perfect detail.

Llewella smiles. "I find that a worthy distraction to allow a change of subject. So, it's a way for someone to send a message, and that message is 'The Queen's Cousin is on our side.' Or something like that. Depending on who sees it and who knows the symbolism, it might be a message to one person, or it might be a message to the whole court.

"It's to be a copper starfish? Symbol of a dead house. One allied with Moire, so that makes sense. So what are they claiming. It's clearly a signal, but we need to find out who is looking for it. Can you do that? See who reacts to it?"

Silhouette nods lightly to this, "That was my intention and suspected as such. Thank you for confirming this. I've not discussed the matter with the Queen, If she recognizes the piece and is shocked, I want the response to be genuine. There are many eyes watching us all."

She pauses, "I'm willing for Celina to hate me, if it assures her safety."

Llewella looks impatient at the last. "It shan't come to that, I don't expect. In this family, hatred is special, and requires more earning of it than you will be able to do for centuries. Anger is quick to kindle, but quick to extinguish, and quicker when there is something to be gained.

"And I doubt Celina will recognize the house, or know the significance of it. The trouble around that shell happened long before she was born. If she picks up on the tension, it will be from the court."

Silhouette nods, "Thank you. Then I shall use it to our advantage."

She drifts toward the window, gazing out at the city beyond. "The Queen's attention is about to shift outward to the Adversary. You know Moire. Will she make her move then?"

Llewella looks out the window as well. The city is abuzz with the daily activity of a major trading hub. Llewella seems pleased to see it just ticking over. Now that the repairs are well underway, it is again very similar to Amber. "Hard to say. Moire is likely to consider Celina negligible and worry more about confusion in her enemies. If she can step in and 'restore ordrer', she will. I imagine she's looking to create the circumstances where someone asks her to return."

Silhouette looks over at her aunt's face, a hint of a smile. It doesn't last long. "Would she be welcome though? And would Celina resist her will? Would Corwin, for that matter. Whom does he love more, I wonder?"

"We are not like societies with normal rules. Our family is different and only those of our family can rule. The people accept that, and they don't even think of choosing a rule. They simply look for a way to profit under the Queen we have.

"As for Corwin, who knows? He didn't manage to unseat Eric and he tried pretty hard. If he's smart, he'll stay out of it. So, it's far from certain."

Silhouette folds her arms, "Perhaps that it why our Adversaries grow so restless. Complacency in our 'right to rule' hints at arrogance. Hubris is not reserved solely for mortals."

A vague shrug, "And Random and his kin? With his strange behavior, should we of Rebma be worried? Do we actually pay fealty to him?"

Llewella nods. "Good to know. When you're ready, think about things that would make what you said dangerous, foolish, or wrong. Come back when you have some idea."

Llewella hasn't said it in so many words, but it was clearly a dismissal.

Silhouette pauses for a moment... and then smiles. "Of course, Princess."

With a bow, she returns to her duties.

Garrett leaves Lark in Celina's care and strides off to look for a place to practice with his new weapons. Being unfamiliar with the castle, he falls back to memories of his days in Amber, hoping that this castle is a close enough reflection of Amber's castle that he can find a courtyard to practice in. He's not looking for privacy. In fact, if he's being honest with himself, he would welcome the presence of a Rebman male or two. The predominance of powerful women here still has him feeling a little off-balance.

His wandering leads him eventually to a kelp garden near the guard quarters. He settles in with some warm-up exercises he learned in his training with Abd-allah, shifting his shoulders a little uncomfortably under the foreign fabric of the tunic Silhouette gave him and adjusting to the sensation of the water all around.

"May I join you?" says an older man from the edge of the garden. "There aren't many surface-dwellers in the palace.

"I'm Droit, by the way. Oberon's one-time ambassador to Rebma." He wears a blade, and looks like he knows how to use it.

He wasn't at court earlier.

"Please do," Garrett replies, waving a hand toward the garden path. "I'm Prince Garrett, recently arrived from Xanadu. Pleasure to make your acquaintance," he grins.

"How long have you been here?"

"I was assigned to Rebma as a consular office by your grandfather, King Oberon, and was appointed ambassador by the late King Eric. So quite a few years, though not that many as some of your family count time, Your Highness." Droit returns a smile of his own for the grin. "How are you finding the court of Rebma?"

"You know, that's a good question," Garrett replies, with a rueful quirk of his lips. "I knew what Rebma was in theory, matriarchal society and all that, but I'm finding that I can't seem to get my balance. It's not the strong women, I don't believe. I'm used to that. But more the... I don't know...undercurrents? There's more to every interaction than there seems to be."

Droit nods. "That was true in your grandfather's court as well, though I'm told your father is less formal. It's often those from outside, or in a position of--dare I say, lesser gravity, by which I mean our sex, not your royal blood--that notice those undecurrents most. If only because the tides might bear them away if they're not careful."

"I reckon that makes sense," Garrett replies with a slow nod. "Those with greater gravity can manage the undercurrents because they drive them. They are not swayed."

"And moreso those who have spent many years here, as I have," Droit offers.

"Indeed," Garrett concurs. He pauses thoughtfully before asking, "Droit, did you know Vialle when she was here in Rebma? I'd be interested to hear your impressions of her."

"Not well, but I was acquainted with her. She was a minor figure in Court at that time," Droit explains. "Moire favored her enough to have her installed in a minor benefice so she'd be cared for in her blindness. She liked to bring in strays like Vialle and Her Majesty Queen Celina. My best guess is that it suited her to bind their loyalty.

"She didn't expect Vialle to fall in love with your father, I don't think," Droit adds. He's taken note of the stretching and has done a few of his own, clearly comfortable in the water here.

"I doubt that anyone did, from what I hear. And it must've caused all kinds of waves down here when she followed him to prison," Garrett observes, grabbing one arm behind his head to stretch out his shoulder.

Droit lowers his voice a little. "I don't think most of the court thought he was worth the effort, saving your presence. His treatment of your brother's mother sat ill with most of them. The assumption was that he'd abandon Vialle and she'd get over it, but her status would set her up for life in the Rebman court. And that was without any consideration of an heir," he concludes, carefully not looking at Garrett so Garrett can have a moment to compose himself if needed.

Garrett smiles and waves off the concern. "No offense taken, Droit. As princes go, I'm an afterthought.

"And I thank you for your perspective," he continues. "Queen Vialle has never been anything but kind to me, but there are others who view her with a bit more...suspicion, perhaps? I've often wondered at the reasons."

"In Rebma or Amber?" Droit asks, as if the answer might be different.

"In Amber," Garrett answers, "Though... now that I think about it, those opinions most often came from people who had ties to Rebma."

"In Amber, men are often suspicious of Rebman women because they--well, bluntly a lot of men of Amber aren't used to treating women as their equals and they don't like women who demand that treatment. They think Rebman women are out of place and must want something in exchange for the sort of treatment women have traditionally had in Amber. Which I realize sounds very--cynical--but my own experiences with the difference between Amberites and Rebmans have led me to think they don't understand each other very well.

"By contrast," he adds, "Rebmans don't think well of women who will put up with the sort of treatment they get in Amber. It makes them suspicious. I like to think your father and Queen Vialle will be able to square that circle in their new realm."

"They seem to be heading in that direction," Garrett confirms, almost adding "...or at least they did" before squelching that thought. Unsure of how much Droit knows of current matters, Garrett decides a subject change is in order.

"Relations can't have been helped by Huon's actions," Garrett says. "I was never here before and I was gone from Xanadu when everything happened. How bad was it here?"

"Do you mean the people or the city itself? There was a quake in the middle of the battle in addition to the battle," Droit explains. "If you go out beyong the royal grounds, where things weren't built as well as the palace, there was some serious damage."

Awake now, Celina preps within her suites while Lark yet naps in the Queen's bedroom.

She sends a request to the archives for all references to 'Rebma's Moon'. She realizes her top staff are with Huon and may not return for weeks yet, but she wants some texture to the things she may try with her mother's mirror.

Celina then sits down and builds a question in her mind. She shuffles the Family cards as Folly demonstrated and places three cards down to reveal 'what moon linkages connect to Rebma'?

Celina lays the cards down in the traditional base of the pyramid.

War
The Priestess
The Peasant Reversed

Does she lay the top three cards of the traditional pyramid (left, right, and cap) after this?

So very strange to see the Peasant yet again.

Yes, she finishes with three more cards.

The Eagle Reversed
The Lion Reversed
The Hermit (sideways)

Celina touches the cards in order of the layout. As a whale might follow the topography of the water near Rebma, her hand dances across and within the reading.

The past War. Or mighty efforts. Would that be Random's work in creating his Pattern? Or Patternfall itself? The Family's work to close out the War was an even bigger task. Yet here it seemed accomplished. Celina liked that.

The Priestess or the Moon itself. Celina's feeling was this wasn't the Queen of Air and Darkness at all. The Moon persisted in various Realms. The linkage was exploited between the Realities by that Queen. As the present, it was central to the question Celina followed. Based on what little she knew, it was very much the Present. At least then the Question was on target.

The Peasant reversed as immediate future. Lack of fertility and lack of the great cycle. As related to the question, this looked bad. Meaning Rebma had forgotten the links to the Moon? Celina frowned. Or it said she herself was not fertile and could not interpret those links? She felt a wash of sadness.

The Eagle but reversed. Her own strength of mind in support, but conflict there also. How could the reversal work to bolster her question? To be less thoughtful? More action then? More intuition less analysis? That could very well be. Celina was uncomfortable with that idea, and maybe that said it was so.

The Lion reversed. Now opposing her question was illness and weakness of the physical. Peculiar that Eagle and Lion would be in reversed opposition to the question. This could mean the moonroads, or the Queen of Air and Darkness were physically very weak. Didn't that describe the Moonriders? Or it could be the danger that Rebma's moon connections were physically thin. Perhaps something suffered long ago in Moins' time. Not much help.

The Hermit sideways. Knowledge hangs in the balance. Celina sighed with the hunger she felt for that knowledge in this situation. It was certainly related to the Moon links she wondered about in her question. But as the card could speak to paying too much attention to arcane details. She knew she must move on. Move forward based on intuition only?

Celina left the cards there. She wanted Llewella's input on the layout.

When Llewella arrives, she asks for her to read the layout and then shares her own observations.

When Llewella arrives, she peruses the layout. "What was the question?"

Celina responds, "What moon linkages connect to Rebma?"

"Rebma is the least lunar of the three cities. Tir-na Nog'th is the full moon, Amber is the half moon, Rebma is the new moon. The entire model of lunar aspects derived on the three cities is entirely moot, and probably always was.

"You'll have to find your own correspondences, because all the literature and experts are flat out wrong." (Like Silhouette, she thinks.)

"I once asked mother why there was only one king and two queens. She told me that since all shadows were some version of a real kingdom, then all the cities that were destroyed in all the shadows everywhere had to be shadows of a city that was no more, and that that city and kingdom had had a king.

"I later assumed she was trying to frighten me into not asking stupid questions. That was true, but that didn't preclude her story being true too."

The Queen nods. Celina scrunches her nose as Llewella's comment takes the Queen into places her Aunt probably did not intend. "So the New Moon is still there even if you do not see it. And there is a destroyed Moon as well? That could be true." Celina looks at the cards again.

"I don't know. It could be the quarter and three-quarter moons. Our the entire model could be flawed. The moons didn't change when Corwin and Random made patterns. However, it always has been true that seeing the moon in Amber is rarer than seeing the Aurora in Amber. Conditions have to be just right and you have to be at exactly the right spot and time.

"If it's visible from the highest peak of the castle, it's not visible from the base."

"So what do you make of the bottom row of cards?" Celina still finds it all interesting and her Auntie will tell her straight if she does not.

"I'm not much of a card reader. I wonder if those with a gift are reading order or arranging it. What does it mean if the future is predictable when you have the ability to affect probability?

"I'm not a fan of that card layout. I generally use the bottom row to tell me if the question I wanted to ask was the question I did ask. Cards are sensitive to desires of the fortune teller, even and sometimes especially unasked questions."

Llewella squints at the cards, perhaps to allow herself time to reflect rather than due to near-sightedness. "It's certainly direct, if it has your question in mind. The connection involved a great effort in the past, is a mystery now, and will be forgotten in the future.

"If I anthropomorphized playing cards, I'd say they were trying to tell you to stop asking this question. As it is, it makes me wonder if you really want the answer to this question." She arches her eyebrows, inviting Celina to refute the reading.

"Forgotten in the future?" Celina studies Llewella's expression rather than the cards. "Yes. One of the things I keep running into is whether I could stop asking questions. It's like having a fictional parent ask that you be good for her sake. Well, no security in not asking questions. So I'll just keep poking at it."

Celina smiles, "Are you ready to help with scrying my future self?"

Llewella hesitates. "Might not be forgotten. Might be irrelevant. Sometimes you can keep poking at something until it snaps. Sometimes you can't see anything with scrying that you can't see looking in a non-magical mirror.

"So yes, I'm ready to help. How were you thinking of starting?"

Celina swallows, "By looking ahead to see if I'll have a friend or lover this time next year. Here, in the Emerald."

Llewella looks skeptical. "How will you know you're not seeing a reflection of desire rather than truth?"

"I will know because I have no desire to drag someone so interesting into the challenges of my life. It would hardly be fair or in character," Celina shrugs and fails at a smile attempt. "But it would mean I'm yet alive a year ahead."

Llewella nods. "I'll be interested to see what you learn. The least reliable kind of scrying we can do is about ourselves and our family, because we have power over the pattern and over probability.

"Are you familiar with the story of the Appointment in Samarra? No matter how hard you try to change your fate, if it is your fate, it is your fate. That's just not true about us. Anything you see will almoertainly not come true in a year, because you and those closest to you will re-write fate a thousand times before then."

She hesitates. "But I'm ready."

Celina is still not sure that undersea hugs are something her Aunt enjoys, but despite this, Llewella gets a new one from the Queen.

"I think I'll call my first daughter Samarra," responds Celina. She does not add that babies scare her a lot already. "It's a good thing to know. Let us go to Moire's Mirror." So saying they move there and set up for scrying.

"I thought the most politically astute thing Lucas ever did was to name the first royal child after the sundering 'Hope'. Samara is a type of winged seed, or a word that means protector, or 'talking at night'. Names have meanings, and the Amber tradition of names with explicit meanings is a way to shield people from hidden ones."

Celina strips, wanting as little of the present to have an influence on the images. Naked is timeless. She pulls the fixings out of her updo and lets her hair wave about naturally, as she seldom has it this way. "Specifically, what do you suggest I use as a focus for the scrydesire?"

"Remember, I am the assistant here, and the skeptic. Even if you ask something like 'How do I avoid my deepest regret?', you may find that the next choice is equally undesirable. Where mirror scrying is different from trumps is in that you see an image, possibly a moving image, and it's not one of 36 that you have to apply to your situation. So it's like fortune telling with someone else's deck, and half the cards are different pictures of you and a quarter are people you know, and the rest are strangers, but they may not be in a year. And you're doing something or with people and it's either true, or might've once been going to be true, or it's what you're hoping or dreading is true.

"You see why I think the capacity for self-delusion is so high? The best advice I have for you is to approach the mirror as a mirror. Look for what is true and observable, knowing it will invert the image, distort things, and light things that are better in shadow. Try to use it to see what is there, rather than to project your desires and fears into it, nor those of the a previous user or the creator of the glass."

She looks at the mirrors in the room. "You'll have to decide what you want to look at for yourself."

"Strangely reassuring, all in all. I shall follow those words of counsel. All mirrors lead to Rebma." Celina steps in front of the glass of her mother's great effort. "I name you Uchelgais-hardd (beautiful ambition). You serve Rebma and answer to Rebma's Queen. I have loved this City before ever I walked its Pattern. I will keep it safe with all my life. Roll the seasons forward and show me my Heart prepared for the wedded kiss of my Beloved City."

Celina puts her knack for connections, mirrors, and discovery into her command.

The mirror is clouded, and slow to respond to the magics, but the will of the caster overcomes that.

Celina sees a large dark, and ominous view of the Pattern, as if she's at the roof of the great chamber, above the glowing lines. She also sees a drop of blood, drifting downwards, slowly.

Celina gasps into the Darkness. She starts to reach out to catch the drop in her palm. But her will stops her hand before the fingers touch the Fear.

Still, she's ...extremely shaken. Celina steels her nerve. She speaks for Llewella's benefit, "Someone knows the heart of Rebma can be speared and broken."

Llewella nods, and tries to speak in a reassuring tone. "Well, I didn't see what you saw. But if it's that disturbing, I can see how you might be reassured by me suggesting that it's the last possible thing that can come true." She looks at the mirrors in the room, and especially the one that scared Celina. "Is this a 'face your fears' moment, or a 'melt that mirror down' moment?"

Celina turns to Llewella, "I'm swimming a path that is nothing but Face Your Fears. I expect to get an honorary doctorate out of this." She shakes her head. "That was pretty bad. At the center of the Pattern, a drop of blood descending as if neither gravity nor water had influence. So slowly that it ..." Celina just sighs, "As if time were asleep."

Llewella laughs. "You're Queen. You can pick any titles you like and order your archivists to start adding them to your list. Celina, Regina Rebma et D. Phob. would be fine.

"Huon knew that about the pattern. We all know that about the pattern, but I have to wonder how much intent matters. Surely someone has walked the pattern with a sword wound or even a hangnail and a drop has fallen upon it. Or someone has stepped off and landed hard on the ground. Why don't we see a dozen nicks and scrapes in the surface? For that matter, what percentage of the water that flows all around us has some few molecules of blood?

"Is there more to the defense of the pattern than we realize? Not that I want to test this theory."

"Not that we get to test such theories, no," agrees the Queen. "Anger and setting your dreams on fire. That's what I think. You have to be so close to broken in your own rage that you'll burn the house down around yourself. The house you've always loved. That's where Huon was and why it might have worked. Intent absolutely matters and I think Huon having realized Oberon and Moins were gone may have scuttled his intent."

Celina continues more slowly as she taps back into the Fear of that image. "There is more to it than we know because Moins found a way to convince the Pattern to hold even if she was gone."

Celina quivers with a thought about blood and love and futures.

Llewella repeats the last word, as if it tastes like blood. "Gone, but not forgotten. And somehow the pattern is here and the city is here, and it's tied to Amber, but Amber is no longer an anchor.

"I don't know enough to explain any of the reasons there is a pattern, but I don't like any of the conclusions I reach.

"Have you talked to anyone about the metaphysics of being Queen of Rebma?"

Celina nods, "In a way I have. Different conversations at odd times with most of it about my safety and welfare. Corwin spoke to me about Paris. Lark spoke to me on the Pattern. Folly talked to me about a Jewel and its importance. I don't think any of those conversations cover your Mother's lasting love of Rebma and its Pattern." Celina pauses long enough to let Llewella back away from speculation if she insists.

"But your thoughts would be most welcome."

"No thoughts, just questions. 'If Mother is dead, why is there a pattern? If Mother isn't dead, where the hell is she?'"

"We've seen that force of will can rip shadows down. Why not love holding them up?" Celina adds, "If Moins fell in battle, was falling, refused to fall, where would she land? It seems she would be falling through time, slowly towards the Pattern, like a drop of blood.

"And maybe we could soften her landing? There was never a body, yes?"

Llewella looks uncertain. "I think you may be being too literal, but just in case, we'd have to find a drop of blood in the ocean. Or the pattern chamber." She frowns. "I hope she's not. That doesn't sound like a good way to be for hundreds of years."

"You're right, I wasn't being that literal. My vision is limited by my lack of mystic invention. So I want to check the Pattern Room and you should go with me to stop me from doing anything too emotional. If Moins is falling it isn't as a drop of blood," Celina says.

"If it isn't just a reflection of your own fears, the drop should be in a different shadow, where it is separated from whatever destiny can restore it." Llewella puts her hair up in a loose knot. "Let's head down, then."