Once situated, Lilly takes a brief moment to clear her thoughts. She could plan out a speech and decide exactly what she should tell Caine but that would be pointless. Her conversations with him always tended to fall off course as soon as they started. Best to just be honest and play it by ear. Holding the card at a comfortable distance, She began to concentrate on the image before her. Please let him be in something resembling a good mood, she thought to herself as the cold presence began to dissolve into something more.
"Who is it?" Caine's voice asks. His image doesn't form yet.
"Lilly," she responds without hesitation. In a calm, steady tone, Lilly adds, "I have urgent news."
Caine's image forms completely. "What is it?" He's sitting at his desk in Amber.
"Trouble," Lilly replies then quickly amends the statement. "More trouble.
"Martin and I have intersected paths with Edan. It seems Edan has just won the 'race to madness' which basically amounted to a trip to Ygg and back. While there, he met the daughter of the daughter of the High Marshall of Ghenesh. She was competing in a similar race on the other side of the tree. They exchanged words and from what Edan gathers, the Moonriders are preparing for war. Apparently, they are moving to attack Tir once again. I can not say how much time you may have to prepare for their arrival but I do not believe there is much. The redheads speculate that the firelillies may be forming a pathway for them through Shadow." The calm facade wavers for just a moment as Lilly finishes and Caine can see her usually well channeled inner rage.
Caine remains impassive through the recitation, and then scowls at the last bit. "I'd tell Julian to be on watch for the firelillies, but he's off dealing with Jovian. I have no idea where his other children are. Does Edan think they know how things stand in Amber?"
Lilly takes a moment to choose her words. "No, I do not believe he does. I, however, have a few thoughts on that matter. These are a war-like people. If they are on the march, there is a reason for it. They may have intelligence that has indicated we are weakened in Amber. After all, we are slowly working to abandon her. Chances are our enemies are beginning to notice. The other thought is they may simply believe Tir to be in need. It is a sacred place for them and by their accounts I am sure we have not handled the responsibility of caring for her well. Or it may simply be that Tir itself is growing weak and they have somehow been alerted to it. Most of this is far to mystical for my taste but perhaps Cambina or Paige may be of use."
"Both of them are in Xanadu." Somehow Caine's tone and demeanor conveys to Lilly through the connection that he feels they're slacking. "This is all bad news, but better I hear it from you than by the Marshall knocking on the front gate of Castle Amber. I'll talk to Random and we'll work something out. Can either you or Edan be spared to come back to defend Amber?"
"At this moment, Martin and I are journeying to Ygg on Meg's behalf," Lilly replies. "I can not say what Edan's plans are, though I do know he intends to solve the mystery of the firelilies." Her features tense. "However, with that said, I am not one to allow a threat to go unanswered. I believe either Paige or Ossian should have a trump of me by now. If not, there is always the King's backup. You have only to call if a threat becomes imminent and I will do what I can to be there. Our enemies are wisely trying to divide to conquer, I fear, and we need to overcome that particular disadvantage."
"It'll be good to have an ace in the hole." Caine gives her a smile that's thin, but has a touch of the genuine about it nonetheless. "Is there anything else I should pass along when I talk to the people I'll need to talk to about this?"
"Nothing that comes to mind," Lilly replies. "But don't waste time calling Random. Edan is doing that as we speak. It will be interesting to see how he responds..." Her voice trails off and show allows a momentary smile to form upon her lips. "It seems acquiring the throne was the easy part. But then, it usually is."
Caine's smile broadens. "Yes, Eric found it that way, didn't he? I'll have to coordinate with Random, but I'll make the necessary arrangements myself. Good luck on your own mission, Lilly. I'll arrange to contact you when I need you."
The connection closes.
Lilly nods at no one then turns slowly to survey the room to see if Martin and Edan are also finished with their appointed tasks. If so, she makes her way towards them. If not, she will simply wait a moment.
Edan is still talking to Random.
Martin has a trump out and is staring at it, face screwed up in concentration. He's obviously not getting anywhere. After a moment, he stops and looks up to see Lilly. "Talked to Corwin," he says, "but I can't get through to Merlin."
Lilly nods slowly. "Let's hope it's nothing serious. We should try again in a little while." She shifts her wait slightly. "Caine took the news well. He is in Amber and plans to coordinate with Random. He may call for backup if it becomes necessary. I told him I would do what I could."
"Caine's going to have to be pretty good with the cards to get to you where we're going," Martin observes. "But it's more important than before that we go. Regardless of what we find out about Meg, someone needs to find out what the Moonriders are up to--and how they're getting around."
"Agreed," Lilly replies. "If they are following the trail left by Daeon and I, we also need to find a way to eradicate it. I knew those flowers were dangerous, but this brings it to a new level."
Martin glances over at Edan and pauses to listen.
"Is he taking oath to Dad?"
Lilly falls silent as she listens to Edan speaking. After a few moments, she nods. "It certainly sounds like it. I certainly wouldn't waste my breathe reciting that particular full title for a lesser reason."
Martin snorts and cracks a grin at that. "Don't ask what my full titles are. I was born in Rebma, and even if my titles are in abeyance--they may not be--I've got a mouthful. Good thing Dad hasn't loaded me up with any."
Lilly shrugs. "The way I see it, the only ones that are important are the ones we earn. And since I can only ever remember being given one, I am sticking with that. The rest my father can keep for himself." She manages a soft smile. "And gods help me if anyone ever tries to saddle me with the less-then-honorific of 'Lady"." The smile spreads into something that might almost resemble a good-natured grin.
Martin starts to say something, but ...
Edan finishes his conversation, passes his hand across Random's Trump, and turns to hand it to Martin. "That was... unexpected," he says. "But I am pleased."
"Welcome to Team Xanadu," Martin says, taking the trump back and sliding it back into his deck. "Corwin and Caine have the news. I can't get through to Merlin, though." He frowns, clearly disturbed by that concept.
"I would recommend waiting," Edan says, dryly. "This is a good place for a Sending, and I might even force it through. But there are many disadvantages: If Merlin is not protected, it might hurt him. If he is, it might hurt me. Until I find a satisfactory cipher, anyone could get the message. And all remaining anonymity you have would be lost."
Though clearly interested in the topic, Lilly chooses to remain silent for the moment and instead turn her attention back towards Martin. One of these days, she might understand all of this sorcerous talk, but she doubted it. Magic needed to be subtle and she preferred the upfront methods of armed combat. Still, it had it use. Only a fool would refuse to believe otherwise.
"That won't help. I need to exchange information with him; just telling him the news isn't enough." Not quite as an afterthought, Martin adds, "Thanks anyway."
Edan bows his head in response. "There are some Sendings that would allow that," he says. "It would take more time. But still, a Trump would be better. I have learned my lesson there. Do no Sending that you would not want your grandmother to read in a broadsheet the next morning."
Martin's scowl at that last sentence suggests he has a formidable grandmother of his own.
He smiles. "And your trinket... you know the charm will eventually fade, yes? Someday, when there is time, bring it to me. I will strengthen it for you."
Martin nods, once. "Thanks."
Looking around, clearly expecting his affine to return, he adds, "If you know this land, perhaps you know of the troll bridge directly over the mountains. The center span is broken, farther than a horse can jump. Something to keep in mind."
"All roads in this part of the world lead where we're going, or in the other direction." Martin gives Edan a crooked smile. "What about this court thing in the morning?"
Edan spreads his hands. "That... is not so simple a thing, your Highness," he says. "I am inclined to leave. But I also wish to know the prize that was offered for this race, which Prince Orlon said would summon some manner of djinn. It may be a clue as to what prize Chases-in-Madness has likely taken, on her side. So. I will wait, and meet with Orlon early in the morning."
His hands drop. "He may try to take my life, though I think it unlikely. We will talk. He knows I cannot stay. When the Duke said in front of his court that he cared not for my 'foreign principalities', he tacitly recognized them. And, I assume, my need to visit them. Mayhap I can abdicate to the Prince. Or, perhaps, he would find advantage in being a Viceroy to me, and losing the restrictions of being the Heir. No matter what decision is made, I would be at a terrible disadvantage in this Court."
Martin glances at Lilly. "Sounds like you could use backup. Good thing we happened along when we did."
Edan bows his head in a slow, gracious movement. "Where you see circumstance, I see providence," he says. "To meet you is a blessing, a favor from the Merciful One. I am humbled and gratified by your presence."
Martin nods, once, slowly enough that it might be a neck-bow.
"Fate moves us in strange ways," Lilly agrees. "I am not much with words but I can be persuasive if the need for my skills arises. And I will gladly offer assistance where I can. Tell me what you need," the last is added to ensure her own ideas do not override Edan's.
Martin nods again, this time at his more usual abrupt pace.
Edan smiles. "You are already the mystery woman from far lands," he says. "Just our meeting, and being supportive of me, will cause talk and make everyone think before acting. You will know, probably better than I, when it is time for more... direct... help. And if it is time to run, you can use what distractions I create to make your own escape." He pauses. "It would be good if you came with me in the morning, and watched while Prince Orlon and I talked."
"Of course," Lilly agrees. "I'm sure I can manage as much. Unless, of course, Martin has objections?" She turns to face her companion knowing full well that he will not hesitate to speak on this matter if objections do exists. They are on something of a time table, after all.
Martin shrugs. "We can wait a day or two. At this point, we're not even sure Meg is where we're going, so it won't hurt. And time is strange out here anyway." He turns his attention back to Edan. "Just be sure to protect yourself tonight. Maybe you should dally with the lady here--" he gestures toward Lilly "--in case anybody has bright ideas about midnight meetings."
Edan nods. "That is prudent. It will save me much time creating sentries and bodyguards, and none would be a tenth as effective." He smiles at Lilly, then thinks, Kyauta? We are about done, I believe.
There is a tendril of responsive thought from Kyauta, acknowledging Edan. It might be tired.
Lilly hesitates for a moment. With no experience in the dallying department, this might be a bit more difficult then the men realize. Still, she is not about to admit intimidation on this point. Besides, with luck, she might never have to put on any sort of public display. And that would be all the better.
"All right, then." Lilly says finally. "We have a plan. Lead on, Edan."
"Shall I guard the door or does my lady excuse me?" Martin asks with deadpan obsequiousness.
"Oh, I am quite certain that I shall be in very good hands," Lilly answers in a slightly louder tone. "You are free to do as you please."
Once Martin has dutifully departed, Lilly returns her attention to Edan. "However shall we spend our time this evening?" She manages a smile. Perhaps this play acting won't be as horrible as she anticipated. It was just a matter of channeling her inner Paige.
Edan inclines his head. "A moment, please." For Lilly's benefit, he talks as well as thinks to Kyauta, "Take your ease, then, my affine. Tomorrow will be a tiring day. Tell me if you have needs, sustenance or otherwise, and I will do what I can to fulfill them."
Turning back to Lilly, he gives her a return smile. "Do I make you uncomfortable, my cousin? I do not pretend to know your mind, but your stance and your muscles belie a certain... tenseness."
When Lilly wakes in the morning, Edan and Kyauta are gone; there is a penned note near an extinguished candle and a complicated sigil drawn in soot on the table.
::Cousin~
I do not know the full meaning of the auguries I cast last night after you slept, but one thing is clear- I am at the center of danger, in this place. I fear that tomorrow would not go well, and I do not wish to bring you both in to my troubles. I will see you again, the Merciful One willing. May Peace be unto you-
~Edan::
The Veil Parts.
Edan comes through, Kyauta on his shoulder, and leading Aramsham. He stops and turns, listening to the fire on the original side of the Veil until the rip closes.
A simple matter to inform Martin, he thinks. Also simple to write the notes to Lilly and Orlon, the first to warn his cousin, the other to make the Prince his own heir to Ofallion, to abdicate Edan's claim upon the Duke's death. If it worked.
A harder thing to put the spies and guards around his horse to sleep, but he had been expecting to do so all along.
He smiles, more a grimace, and looks up towards Ygg, now an easy distance away. With a sigh, he mounts and turns Aramsham towards Chaos.
Edan and Aramsham make their way toward Ygg. Not far from the great tree, he can see several grey figures. It appears to be a camp and they seem to be going about camping tasks. They are unhuman; apart from the grey skin, they have bone spurs at the joints of their elbows and other places.
Edan reins in his stallion and watches from a distance. Grackleflints, Kyauta. My grandmother expects us. Or... does she?
He shifts in the saddle. You said that Clarissa was the only one to use these creatures openly. Well. Let us see what they are about. Watch over us a moment, my affine. I will take a look.
Closing his eyes, Edan extends a hand, his fingers making a slow, wavelike movement as he transfers a part of his awareness into the grackleflints' campfire.
As Edan watches from the campfire, he can see that they have some strange way of communicating, because while he cannot tell how they allot guard duty, one of them clearly seems to have it. That one watches toward the Tree. It does not seem to have noticed Edan, or perhaps it had already reported Edan's presence by the time he stepped into the fire and there's nothing more to say until he does something.
"Difficult to tell," Edan says for the affine's benefit. "Still. The battle is best fought far away from one's front door, yes? Being from Chaos, these creatures should be intimately familiar with the concept of dominance..."
Edan produces a short chain of gold links from a pocket and holds it tight in his right fist before turning his attention back to the grackleflints' campfire. Humming, almost crooning, he gives the blaze arcane strength, making it resistant to mundane efforts to be extinguished. Then, he builds his own shape out of the flames, an avatar to interact with the camp; as he begins speaking through it, a huge serpent of golden flame crawls out of the fire at his image's feet and heads outward to eventually ring the camp. Its movement and articulation are exactly that of the chain in Edan's hand.
"You are far from home, creature of Chaos," Edan says to the guard's back. "Has my father's mother sent you to me? What news from Clarissa?"
The grackleflints watch the ring form. Some of them make an effort to step out of it, while others remain within. One of those who remains within comes to stand near the dragon's head and bows.
It takes Edan a moment to realize that the rest of them are forming up as an honor guard around the dragon.
Distantly, Edan hears his jaw click shut. The dragon, he thinks to the affine. Do you see? They ignore the man, and honor the dragon. I meant only to impress, and to light the field. What have I stumbled onto, here?
After a moment of deep pondering, he adds, Well. A Good Sorceror Must Be Flexible. We must equate ourselves with the dragon in their minds. Kyauta, take the same shape as that fiery serpent, if you would. A miniature version will do, and you can perch the same place- the heat will not bother me. We must appear out of the fire, and let the serpent fade, unless a better idea occurs to you. A pause. I will bind Aramsham's mind so that he will not panic from the flame. I have done that before.
I live to serve, my Lord. Kyauta takes some time to shape himself into the fiery serpent shape, although much smaller than the one that emerged from the fire. Grackleflints are creatures of war. Perhaps they think that is your war-shape.
Aramsham isn't very keen on the transformation of Kyauta into a little flame dragonet.
Edan makes an effort not to smack himself on the forehead. War shape. Of course! They would expect me to change shape, and I had not even considered it. There must be a whole language in the choice of shapes in greeting. I was... fortunate.
He produces the piece of charcoal that once held his distraction spell; he rubs it in his palms before dropping it to the ground. With a soot-black fingertip, he traces a complex drawing on Aramsham's head, behind the ears. A spell, he thinks to Kyauta when he is finished. A binding of silence and peace, as well as protection from the flame. We have ridden through fire before, Aramsham and I, many times. But this next will be new.
Edan pauses to take a deep breath, both physically and mentally; then he speaks as he pushes his awareness further into the serpent-shape. "Do you know the story of the afriti, my affine? We were angels, once. The first and the greatest, formed from the smokeless fire to be the closest servants to the Merciful One." His hands move in the air, almost a caressing dance. "But the highest also have the farthest to fall. Pride brought us low. And the power we held, with which we thought made us superior, became a constant, terrible reminder that we had been stricken from Him. The bright beauty of our flame became as bitter ashes in our mouths. The greatest city of the afriti is filled with the wailing despair of the old ones who rue what they had become, what was done." Farther now, deeper, his voice an afterthought. "We still know the language of fire. We still have the power, which strides hand in hand with our hurt, our anger, our despair. We are now the farthest from Him. And most of my kind, they still have their pride and their hatred, and they share this fury with any that they run across. I weep for the afriti. My... brothers." Different now, his attention completely on the dragon, until it seems more real than the feel of his own body, his own horse, the warmth of his affine around his shoulders.
"But we still... know the fire... our creature... as it is... ourselves." Distantly, he feels his body kick lightly at his stallion's sides, urging it forward, not just a step forward into the night, but a step into the next moment, into the flame of his awareness. And as they step out of the mouth of the dragon, he lets the fire dwindle until it is the original campfire he saw at the beginning.
A flame appears in front of Aramsham, flickering wildly. As Edan concentrates it settles down and a keen observer would note that it leapt and fell in sync with the distant flame of the campsite. Edan enters the flame and exits it in the other place, a single step taking him between two similarities.
My Great Lord! Who may I eat to learn your new way of Parting the Veil? Kyauta seems genuinely impressed.
Edan's first thought is, It worked! It worked! Now I understand! The second is, O Merciful One, when I am away from these heathen creatures of my father's mother, I shall give thee proper thanks for this blessing.
His third thought is reserved for Kyauta; as he nods to the grackleflint who bowed to the dragon, he thinks, I shall teach this to thee, my affine. Someday. It will be difficult. But to answer your question, certain of the afriti, and a picture comes into his head of that kind, and of the hamaaj. Another picture then, of a shadowy creature of black fire, wreathed in oily black smoke.
My Lord is mighty, that he eats of such beings.
I understand them, now. That is the key. Never again will I fear their power, for they do not understand me, or what I can do. They shall have cause to fear me, instead.
The grackleflint bows again to Edan. It does not speak, but raises one arm to point into the distance. It still does not speak.
The remainder of the grackleflints form up around Edan, as if he were the dragon.
Edan nods again, and moves Aramsham around and into place with the guard, ready to go.
Once they start moving, he thinks, So, Kyauta, being my first affine, I must ask things that probably seem obvious to you. When will you... hunger? Are there other needs that I have not addressed?
I am sustained for now. Kyauta wraps its tail around Edan's arm. My Lord is mighty and provides all my needs. Besides, I am not enough to eat a grackleflint.
The first thing Edan notices as he moves beyond the immediate environs of the tree is that different rules truly do apply. It seems subtle at first, but he quickly finds himself having to expend some amount of attention on just keeping himself and Aramsham alive in the near-order parts of shadow.
Edan spends some quality time matching this experience with what Brennan said to him about Chaos; it feels a lot like solving mathematical problems in his head, and he does think a bit about what to do while asleep, until he realizes a spell can help...
He quickly learns the trick of it and it becomes no more than a background task. He rides with his guard of Grackleflints for a distance that could not be conventionally measured and comes, at last to a hill with a surprisingly bland white picket fence along it. It is jarring in the landscape of stone pillars and the unusual suns and sun-like solar objects of the past--however long it was.
The Grackleflints do not speak, but each one silently climbs the waist high fence. Beyond it is a landscape of sullen red light and rocks floating in a sea of water, lava, and air. Perhaps a score of miles from here, a castle sits nestled in the side of a volcano, glinting in the lowering sunlight.
My Great Lord! thinks Kyauta, Is it safe to stand on Clarissa?
Aye, Edan thinks as he heads toward the fence. Clarissa wants me there, and you are with me. Her will keeps us safe for now. In fact, she honors me - look at the castle, the setting. She could have made this look like anything. It was made to appeal to me. But as I have said, my affine, I will protect y... He pauses. Aramsham. "Ho, my escort! My horse and my affine stay with me!"
Unless he is stopped, he backs Aramsham up a bit, then urges the stallion into a leap over the fence; he keeps his senses alert, ready to react if needed.
Aramsham clears the fence and lands on one of the rocks, which splashes lava out into the rivers of molten rock and water beyond them. Where it falls into the water, Edan can hear the hissing of steam as the rock heats the water (and no doubt solidifies as it drops beneath the surface).
Two of the grackleflints leap from the bit of rock where the fence is situated to join them, rocking the surface of the rock again. Aramsham dances a bit, discomfited by the movement of the ground.
Edan doesn't think Aramsham can handle this kind of leaping the entire distance, especially given that he'll have to do some vertical leaping to get up to Castle Clarissa. And having to deal with leaping grackleflints will not help.
"This... will not work," Edan says, and dismounts from Aramsham. He sits down, legs crossed, looking out on the rocks and the far castle for long moments.
Finally, he reaches up to touch Kyauta and gain its attention. "The fumes. The smoke. If my grandmother will allow a spell here, I will use something my father taught me. We will be as the smoke, and ride the wind to the mountain. It will be a long, complex ritual..." And he gestures to the grackleflints (if they don't already look like they understand his words) to try and explain that they're going to be using a spell to travel onward.
Kyauta looks bewildered. My Lord will not summon a filmy?
Edan suspects that this discussion has overtaxed his familiar's not-particularly-formidable thinking apparatus.
Beat.
Beat.
Edan smiles.
"I never considered it," he says. "I am not used to relying on other creatures like that. And I have never summoned one. But it is a much better idea, yes. These are the cloud-like creatures? Barely intelligent? I can use the same smoke here to bring one."
Kyauta curls back up comfortably. I will wait for My Lord to summon the filmy.
He reaches into a pocket and produces a small handful of wood shavings, which begin to smoulder in his palm.
Kyauta watches with interest; this is apparently not the method of filmy-summoning he knows.
There is no resistance to the beginnings of the spell from Clarissa.
Edan takes up a chant, his other hand making smoke-like passes over his palm. The wisps of smoke thicken, an impossible amount compared to the tiny flicker of flame, and become a smoky cloud shot through with red energy. Not having seen a filmy before, Edan makes a guess as to appearance and movement; he does his best sculpting the smoke into the proper shape. It becomes a beacon, a call; the bargain is simple, the energy for sustenance, and a promise to strengthen the creature if it agrees to carry them. He keeps the casting up as long as he needs to get an answer; surrounded by grackleflints, standing in Clarissa, Edan isn't too worried about mistaken identity in the casting...
After a time, a strange being or creature or construct, whichever Edan wishes to call it, drifts up. It is long and flat and made of shadows.
My Lord, the filmy arrives Kyauta says, probably unnecessarily. He watches to see what Edan will do.
It is certainly necessary, considering Edan has never actually seen one. He urges Aramsham... slowly... onto the creature, waiting for their escort to join them, then points a trail of power towards the distant castle.
Much, much better, he thinks, once they are settled.
The filmy bears them and the grackleflints toward Castle Clarissa. It takes some long time as Edan measures it--the only measure he has is subjective--but eventually they are close enough to see another honor guard of grackleflints, and a red-haired woman in robes. She waves enthusiastically as Edan approaches, as if they were old friends who were long-parted.
It is the queen of Clarissa Kyauta announces.
Edan pauses, caught a little off-guard; deciding to keep with his original plan of a formal greeting, he stops his hand halfway to an answering wave and waits until the filmy lands fifty paces or so from the greeting party. He slides off his horse, Kyauta still wrapped around him, and leads the stallion to about ten paces away from Clarissa. Falling to his knees, he kisses the ground in the manner of meeting a king of men.
With no one to announce, he decides to announce himself. "Hail, Clarissa, Queen of this demense," he says when he rises. "Queen of Amber, Lord of Chaos. Honored mother of my father. I am Edan, come at long last to give my respects to thee. I am most honored. As-salaam alaykum."
Clarissa's aged face splits (at least metaphorically) in a delighted grin. "Dear Edan. It's such a pleasure to meet you in the flesh at last." She moves to offer him a grandmotherly embrace. "Welcome to my humble castle. Are there any messages?"
Humble? Edan glances beyond Clarissa at the castle in polite disbelief as he allows himself to be embraced. The response is still a little slow, as he mentally overrides years of instinct. "Not many of the family knew I was coming, my grandmother," he says. "Your children, and Paige and Brennan, send their love and regards, of course." He winces then, remembering the 'message' that brought him here in the first place, but covers it with a smile. "But how can this be? Surely it is a Chaosian trick of time and perspective. How can one so young and vibrant already be a mother to three generations?"
"Flatterer," Clarissa says fondly. "You got that from your father." She reaches to offer a finger to Kyauta to sniff; as she gestures, Edan can see that there are six fingers on each of her hands. "And you've already taken your first affine! I'm so proud of you."
Kyauta delicate sniffs of Clarissa, and then bows deeply, as deeply as a little dragonet can. This one spawned you, My Lord? It must have been very powerful to have so much remaining afterwards.
Clarissa is watching Kyauta and Edan, and Edan suspects she can hear what Kyauta says to him.
Edan gives an almost apologetic look to Clarissa and thinks, To be exact, it spawned the one who spawned me. I was not there, but I suspect my grandmother spawned in the Ordered way. His head tilts. Do you know of it? I will explain later, if you wish. The important things to know are that there are two parents whose essences combine to create a child; that the child grows in one parent, the 'mother', for a short time, then is ejected- 'born' -into the world to continue to grow and learn; and that the process does very little permanent damage to the bodies or minds of the parents. A slow smile appears on Edan's face. That damage happens later, in the child's growth and formative years.
Kyauta replies Yes, My Lord. Edan thinks Kyauta has no idea what he's talking about but is agreeing to humor him.
Clarissa doesn't bother to hide her own smile at that. "Did you live with your father growing up, or did you come to that conclusion on your own? Come, let's go in and you can tell me all about it." She puts up her arm for Edan to take.
"Of course." Edan takes her arm and leads as if they were about to step into some formal dance. "Actually, my father was not a frequent visitor until after I had come of age. My mother raised me... us... with almost limitless resources at her disposal. My father, at least, saw to that."
"Good for him. Nice to know he was more responsible with you than he was with your sister. Poor dear, she seems to need a great deal of guidance, and I'm worried about her and the children. I still haven't met their father."
Clarissa sets a stately pace, and the grackleflints fall in behind them.
Edan gives Clarissa a sidelong look. "I am less worried," he says. "My sister has allied herself with Xanadu and my uncle the King. They are all now in a strong defensive position. And I will be there, should she ever need me." His voice slows. "As for the father... I came to Amber at the time of his funeral."
"Oh, that's terrible!" Clarissa exclaims. There's a lurch and the whole castle is festooned droopily in black banners where before there had been only the banners of the Bronze Legion, and Clarissa herself is dressed in mourning black.
"Ahh..." Edan sighs in appreciation, then allows himself one glance backward to make sure Aramsham is being cared for and isn't too nervous at the handling. Also to see if the unfortunate grooms still have all their fingers and toes.
"Do you think I should call on Paige? To make sure she's doing all right with the children? They were so adorable when last I saw them."
Edan turns his head back to meet his grandmother's eyes. At least, he was prepared for this one. "You are the matriarch, the Great Mother. How could she not find comfort in your counsel? But as it so happens, my sister will call upon me regularly while I travel in Chaos. I could bring you in when she next Trumps me, if you so desire."
He glances back towards the castle. "As for the twins... well. That is a deeper subject, one of the things I wished to ask you. There are things that I do not understand, my grandmother, things that you would know. I had hoped to share in your wisdom."
Clarissa preens. "Of course, Edan. I'm always happy to help my grandchildren. What do you want to know? And by what means are you best suited to absorb wisdom?"
The castle appears to be approaching much more quickly than it should based on the pace at which Clarissa and Edan are walking. It shouldn't be possible for a castle to move like that, at least not on the Amber side of Ygg.
Curiosity finally wins out over discretion, especially when Edan reasons that Chaosians must do this all the time. He looks around interestedly with his Third Eye...
It's not clear to the vision of his Third Eye where the landscape ends and his grandmother begins. There's certainly a large concentration of her in the being next to him, but she also seems to be present in the land, the lava, the castle ....
...that is, until Clarissa asks that last and the memory of, 'If you devour her, take small bites!' pops unbidden into his mind. He reaches up to pat Kyauta, bemused, as he imagines all manner of technological and magical ways of passing information.
"The Ordered way, please," he says. "Talking. Learning. I am still new at mind-work, and other possibilites sound... unpalatable." He shivers.
"There are a few things, an it please you. Sorcery and botany and the nature of wyrms. And, of course, where you will allow the sun to set tonight and rise tomorrow..." He smiles. "But I am a poor guest already, and have not plied you with the small talk of home and family."
"Brita took her Sorcery lessons properly," Clarissa says a bit chidingly, "but she's younger and, I suppose, less set in her Ordered ways. But we can speak of that tomorrow. Tell me how my children and the rest of my grandchildren are doing."
Edan smiles slightly. We shall see, is his thought on lessons in sorcery. "Father is out and about, collecting awards. I saw Aunt Fiona last in Amber..." He follows with a more detailed recount of them and his redheaded cousins, including a description of their last meetings, how they looked, how they acted, and so on. Leaving off the subjects of firelillies and Moonriders and Arcadian influence for the moment, he concentrates instead on the small talk of family and of the extended family, if Clarissa wants. The subject of Brand is avoided completely.
"...better results with a crossbow and a kind word than just a kind word, Conner said," Edan states with a smile. But then the smile fades, and he reaches up to touch Kyauta, suddenly uncertain. "And there is Aisling, of course, whom I never met. I understand that she... it... is gone, that there was a daughter, but I have never seen them. I meant to ask, were there other..." he casts about helplessly for a word, "...fractions when Saeth was spawned? What became of them?"
"Oh, we couldn't let that sort of thing go loose, not when Caine could get at them," Clarissa tsks. "I took care of that."
"Ah." Edan nods, drops his gaze, and relief appears on his face. "We all toy with probability. We impose our will upon the grand design of the Merciful One, change the natural order of things. We surround ourselves with outrageous circumstance, and then wonder why events affect us as they do. I had thought... against all odds... that Kyauta, here, was one of those... fractions."
"Oh, no." She holds out her hand toward Kyauta and the affine bows to the Queen. "He's definitely Order-tainted, but he's not part of Aisling. Everything that was of Aisling became part of Saeth, or I destroyed it. Except for the little bit I ate."
Kyauta shrinks away from Clarissa noticeably to Edan's senses, but she seems to miss it.
"Of... course you did," Edan says slowly. Filing the name 'Saeth' away under 'cousins I probably don't want to meet', he holds his hand up to his affine to perch upon, and gazes at it with his Third Eye. Order tainted? With a mental shrug, he thinks, Return to your original form, my affine, if you so wish, and transfers it to a place on his opposite shoulder. He tries not to make it obvious that the new perch is also farther away from Clarissa.
There's nothing obvious about Kyauta to the Third Eye.
Kyauta shifts to the first form Edan saw him in and lets Edan move him to the opposite shoulder.
"Excuse me," he says as Kyauta settles. "The concepts and practice and politics of this... eating... it is still very strange to me. I have never attempted to duplicate anything like that with sorcery. I have also heard the story of the guard in Amber who was eaten in this fashion. It was... dramatic."
Shaking himself a little, he forces a small smile. "Well. Sorcery can wait until tomorrow. So can questions of flowers. Allow me to tell you of your great-grandchildren, instead. They are, how do you say, 'affected' by their father's realm. Yes. That is the word. Arcadia affects them. They age unnaturally, or at least their bodies do. They are filled with knowledge of their purpose in Arcadia. Leif told me that he will become the wyrm of the forest when he stops growing... and yet... I know from several sources that dragons are of Chaos. I do not understand. Are dragons not creatures of Chaos? How could one be at the very doorstep of Arden?"
"Oh, her. Or him, depending on how you want to count these things." Clarissa sniffs. "That used to be Chaosi, but it's not any more. It's got the Ordered taint, but a different sort to what those of us born or made Ordered have. It was exposed directly to Pattern when that part of the universe was made. The old hunchback didn't just freeze himself, he froze everything."
Edan is silent a moment. "The family would fight it with Pattern," he says finally. "One could argue such a creature would not be so affected as they might think."
"How would you do it, then?" Clarissa asks, interested. It's vaguely reminiscent of Bleys asking a test question.
The pause is longer this time; Edan's eyes are a little unfocused as he speaks. "The power of Pattern is still effective," he says, his voice distant. "If not deadly, she still finds it unpalatable. Corwin was once the Warden, and had Grayswandir at his side. Morganstern... there is a high probability Julian is breeding or conjuring creatures with Pattern for the same function." He shakes his head. "Why did he not try a dragon, like cousin Jovian has? That path must not have worked."
A short pause. "Motivations. I need more data for effective strategy. What does this creature want? To increase her realm, as Amber weakens? To escape, to be free? To purge her more toublesome progeny? To eat and grow stronger, as she once surely did before the advent of Pattern? I would seek to know this." Edan nods a little as he crunches probability numbers in his head. "Advantages. Possession. Her mind is strong, very strong. Magic, especially as it deals with things of the forest. Children.... gods of her realm, some who support her. A great vitality... indestructible... she must infuse Arcadia, like you do this place, my grandmother. Disadvantages... lack of mobility. Pattern. She dislikes fire. Rage. Hibernation-she can withdraw, be put to sleep." Edan blinks.
"Tactics. Powerful as she is, she is still one creature. I would attack her on many fronts." A longer pause. "Cut her off from Arcadia's influence. Disable possession, her greatest weapon. Offer a thing to 'eat' and gain power, but poison it instead. Support my sister's children in an attempt to supplant her. Prevent her from expanding towards Xanadu, if such a thing is possible."
Another short pause. "Destroy Arcadia."
"Ooh, that's an interesting idea." Clarissa's ruby-red lips curl into a smile. "But she survived when the Pattern was made. What makes you think it's possible to destroy her that way?"
"Would any of these things destroy her?" Edan looks up. "Unlikely. But if the dragon is truly limited in mobility, then her connection to Arcadia would be a source of strength to her. Breaking it would end that advantage." He makes a sound, more a snort than a laugh. "As if I could do it. The mathematics of Pattern tells me that such a thing is possible, and the principles involved. But I do not know the way."
He glances back to Clarissa. "I would control as many variables as I could before taking the field. I would certainly avoid fighting her strengths, sorcery and possession. The Art can still sometimes be... erratic... for me."
"Tsk, Bleys has neglected your education. Fortunately, I was on my way to visit Ambrose and offer my assistance in a particular matter." Her smile turns a bit lizard-like. "Would you like to come with me and take lessons?"
"Ambrose? The Ambrose of the Coronation?" Edan's look of worry is only for a second, quickly replaced by a smile. "Yes. Absolutely, I would."
Edan isn't sure what instinct causes him to add, "I must defend my father. He was very thorough. I know he considered me an excellent student, at least in the learning of theory. Our trips through shadow were as much the study of magic and sorcery as it was Pattern. Principles. Paradox. And so many systems to draw from and incorporate throughout Shadow. Cabalism, rituals, totem magic, fetishes, potions... everything he could show me. It was not his fault; I could answer any question he asked. But in practical use, I lacked the power to be effective. Until I went... to the afriti." Edan puts his hands together, fingers entwined. "I am strong now. I can do things I had hardly imagined before. But I must still learn to put everything... together."
Clarissa seems to be about to say something more tskwise about Bleys until something Edan says catches her attention. "The afriti?" Her eyes shine with interest. "I don't know them. Tell me about them, Edan."
It occurs to Edan, perhaps not for the first time, that the walk up to the castle seems to be taking exactly as long as Clarissa needs it to take to have this discussion.
Edan suppresses a mental smile as he realizes he's reflexively doing differential calculus in his head, and pulls that small part of his attention away from the calculation of road length versus talking speed.
"Spirits of fire from the Land of Peace. My home. The boundaries there are weak between the world of men and the homes of the djinn." He turns golden eyes back to Clarissa. "My mother is half-afrit, the daughter of the Padishah of the City of Brass. I am but a fourth. But I traveled to my mother's father, and he taught me to draw upon the fire that is within myself. Though my blood was not pure, he told me that it held great power, great potential." Edan looks away again.
"There are many stories of the Land of Peace and of the afriti, my grandmother. Would you like to hear? Their creation, perhaps, or their fall from the grace of the Merciful One. The creation of the City of Brass, with flame and despair. Or perhaps the parables of men who interact with them..."
"Tell me of their fall from grace at dinner, dear."
They are at the gate of the castle. It's not entirely clear how that happened. Several creatures are at the gate. One of them is a spider-thing with seven legs, not all of which are jointed in roughly the same places and directions as Edan might expect. "Go ahead and follow him, Edan. He'll lead you to your chamber so you can freshen up," Clarissa says.
Edan makes a graceful nod. "My thanks," he says. "I shall see you at dinner, then. Ah, Aramsham..." he glances back the way they came. "There are grooms that can feed and care for my horse, yes? Should I take him when we go to Ambrose?"
"Hmm. I'll have a groom look to him. As for our trip, it's probably best to take him with us. Without someone Ordered nearby, creatures tend to become--distorted." Clarissa pats Edan's arm reassuringly. "As long as you're by, though, your steed should be fine. And if he ceases to be satisfactory, I'll feed him to one of the steeds of the Bronze Legion and you can have a mount with the best of both worlds."
Edan is a son of Bleys, and strong, and thus it only takes him a second and a half to wipe the expression of abject horror from his face.
"Yes, my Grandmother," he manages at last. "Thank you... I will tell you immediately when Aramsham ceases to be adequate." He manages a weak smile as he turns to follow the heptapod, and tries not to think of the decades of breeding that might end up as horse chow for some shiny chaos-steed.
The heptapod leads Edan through parts of the castle that are difficult to describe and may be not entirely Euclidean in geometry. At least once Edan looks back through a doorway to see that what's on the other side isn't the same hallway he came through to get where he currently is.
Paradox. This place is perfect for sorcery, Edan thinks, once he gives up on trying to define things mathematically. Despite the temptation, he holds sorcery to his Third Eye and spends his time figuring out the spells in place versus what might be just shapeshifted Clarissa.
It's impossible to tell where Clarissa stops and her sorcery begins. Or what is Clarissa and what is an affine. Except the heptapod appears to be an affine.
After perhaps five or ten minutes, or something like that because time is hard to track in this place, the heptapod stops at a door, which swings open.
Inside is a room that is decorated similarly to what he might have imagined Amber to be like based on his father's descriptions. It has a giant bed, canopied with heavy tapestries, heavy wooden furniture, and tapestries on the wall. There is a chamber beyond, with a small bath in the style of the heathen ancestors of settled folk in the Land of Peace. How it is heated and cooled is beyond Edan's reckoning, save that it must be done by magic.
The heptapod seems to be waiting outside the door.
Edan hesitates long in this place, which obviously is designed for his comfort, but he knows full well that his grandmother's awareness is all around him. Modesty is a difficult thing here.
Eventually, though, he decides to accept the situation, and disrobes. His body is pitifully thin, the ripple and play of muscles clearly visible under cinnamon-colored skin as he washes and makes himself presentable.
The next hurdle is clothing; not seeing any closets, and the Merciful One be praised, no garderobes, he simply lays his clothes on the bed before cracking his knuckles. Edan frowns then, realizing that he hadn't asked what Uxmal is like. No matter. Rubbing his hands together for warmth, he reaches down to yank at the clothing; as he yanks, the dirt and sweat disappears, and the silk riding outfit transforms into heavy cloth and sturdy boots and a white aba cloak with many pockets, made as working garments for sorcery. After a few minutes to rest, he tentatively reaches out to the Chaos-stuff around him to see if Clarissa will allow him to shape a replacement weapon or two...
Edan has no difficulty shaping and obtaining things in this way. He may have been meant to make his clothes this way as well.
Kyauta waits on the bed, carefully not burning anything, while Edan does these things. Edan feels Kyauta wishes not to draw the attention of the very powerful Lord that might decide he looks like a tasty dragon-shaped treat.
[After deciding the dragonet form is more cool than the starfish? :-D]
Knowing what he wants, and how to make it, Edan spends some time on the fashioning of weapons; all the blades are pattern-welded when he is finished, which might be called 'wootz steel' or 'Damascus steel' in some shadows. All have silver inlays and mounts, and all have sharkskin hilts to keep his hands and palms dry. A thick-bladed yataghan joins his original saber, as does a long bichaq dagger for his boot. The saber gets the most attention, repaired and the hilt modified, and Edan commands Kyauta to watch closely as he nicks his fingertip and writes on the surface of the steel. The blade hisses and smokes as his blood completes the spells, first a simple charm of protection and durability, then the strongest anti-scrying spell Edan can create under these conditions. When he is finished, he tests the blades to check his workmanship, smiling broadly as he finishes one of the sword-dances meant for a confined space, then calls his affine to him before leaving the chamber to be led to dinner.
The heptapod leads Edan to the dinner chamber, using another apparently circuitous route that seems to go forward through ways that Edan could not go in reverse. If he wants to go somewhere without a guide in this castle, either he's going to have to learn the fey paths of this place or force it with Pattern.
The table is set for two after what he suspects is after the manner of Amber when Clarissa was Queen. Clarissa is waiting for him. "You look marvellous, my dear boy. Did your chamber suit? Is there anything I should make different?"
"It is very comfortable, thank you," Edan replies. "Very interesting, once I learned to use the stuff of Chaos. I was suprised by the similarities between that and Sorcery."
"They're applications of the same techniques to different conditions. The less Order you have to deal with, the more easy it is to create and change, but the more difficult it is to hold forms," Clarissa explains. "Some have argued that the techniques stop being Sorcery at Ygg, but I'd call this needlessly pedantic."
Edan stares- then bursts into laughter. "I am sorry- hah-," he says, "But that means I have been training my affine in sorcery, and it understands the process better than I could ever teach. It is like a blind man explaining color to an art critic. Who, ah, are these 'some'?"
"Dworkin," Clarissa admits petulantly.
"I see," Edan says. "I had not known that you two were so well acquainted. I am, of course, new to all of you, and have not met him." He smiles, and shifts the subject. "But I am holding up our dinner, and tales of the afriti. And then after... I have only heard of my new cousin, and his visit. Visits. What is Ambrose like?"
Clarissa takes a moment to consider before answering the question. "Young. Very young. He has a hard road ahead of him. An orphan at such a young age, assuming you don't count his mother. He'll need a good influence or two to help him settle down into the family."
Edan nods. "Beginnings are delicate times," he says. "Is it not so? Ambrose has Brennan, of course. If there is loyalty and goodwill from the rest of us, it cannot but help things."
"Yes. Well. Some of us are in better odor in Amber than others." Clarissa sounds quite put-upon, as if there's no reason whatso_ever_ she might be in bad graces in Amber. "I hope that Brennan's influence in that quarter will stand him well."
"We can all but try," Edan says, then smiles slightly. "Actually, a change in graces led to the fall of the afriti from the Merciful One..."
Clarissa's eyes get a little bigger. "Oh, yes, you did promise me a story, didn't you, Edan? You may tell it while they bring the meal in." She claps her hand and an assortment of Chaosi begin to bring in dishes for Edan and Clarissa to choose from.
Edan's smile grows a little wider. He looks astonishingly like Bleys when he does so.
"The problem was Man," he says. "And jealousy, and anger, and pride. It is written, that when the Merciful One- may his name be exalted forever!- created the heavens and earth, that the afriti stood at his right hand, the strongest and most favored of his angels. And then the Merciful One revealed Man, who would populate the Earth that he had made.
"The afriti were jealous that Man would live and populate the earth. They were angry that Man would be given so much attention. They did not fully realize the plans of the Merciful One. Over the many centuries, they grew ever more bitter and resentful, seeing Man grow and multiply. They began to work against Man, and in that decision, they fell from the Merciful One's grace.
"Then a great king of men, Suliman, was born upon the Earth and came to power..."
Clarissa is listening raptly, and nods for him to go on.
"Suliman was the last and greatest affront to the afriti- not only favored of the Merciful One, raised to be a great king of men, but he was also given power over all the spirits of the world. Djinn, afrit, marid, and djao alike. His ring was said to have a symbol that could bind our kind. Either the Merciful One revealed to him his destiny, or he discovered it himself; it is a matter of argument, but in any case, Suliman bound or defeated or trapped many spirits and used them as his slaves. There are still vessels- bottles, gems, lamps, all sealed with Suliman's seal, still containing spirits trapped for centuries. Many were returned to our city, the city of the Afrit, the City of Brass. The afriti were left to ponder their place under the Merciful One. Many... did not. They chose the path of pride and hubris and impotent revenge, instead. They did not learn the lesson of humility." Edan shakes his head. "It is said that even in Suliman's death, the afriti did not learn to humble themselves to God and learn his Plan. That Suliman died leaning on his staff, watching over the work of his slaves, and that the afriti toiled forty days before they realized they were being overseen by a corpse. That the Merciful One arranged for their eyes to be clouded by their pride."
Clarissa is still listening carefully. When Edan falls silent, she speaks.
"That's very interesting! I can see why you like the shadow, my dear. If I haven't met him before, I think I should like to. But that doesn't seem as if it's the end of the story. What has this 'Merciful One' been up to since then?"
"Been... up to?" Edan looks confused. "The Merciful One, the Creator? He is God. God... is."
"Oh. He's one of those sorts," Clarissa says knowingly. "So. Is there more to the story, or did the exaltation of Suliman before his death and the binding of the afrit settle things? Or did they take a terrible vengeance once they were no longer in his shadow?"
Those sorts? is Edan's first thought, but he says, "The two shadows are close, very close." He clasps his hands together. "The djinn have ever been able to cross over into the Land of Peace. There are many afriti still trapped, ready to pounce upon those who release them from their prisons. They have lost nothing of their power... only their grace. Many of them sank into despair and remorse. Many of them retained their fury and insolence. Many are confused."
Clarissa's lovely face makes a sour pucker. "No wonder he gave them as affines to this Suliman. They sound like a troublesome lot."
"They are. We are." He bites his lip against the next comment, wipes the frown from his own face, and says, "When the black rains came, and the hamaaj spread out over the desert, some of the afriti joined with them. Part of my victory was due to playing upon that weakness. Had more joined the hamaaj, had the afriti presented more of a united front, I would have had a much harder time.
"I am always aware of Pride," Edan continues. "Pride is the mother of sin. Theft is its father. It all boils down to that, neh? Theft is easy to understand. The theft of property. The theft of a life, taking away all that a man is, and ever will be. But Pride... pride is insidious. So easy to take that path, to place one's sight on oneself and not on God. To forget that He is the Creator. Always, I strive for humility. I renounce the weakness that I see in the afriti. I turn away from the many excesses of my father. It is the Way."
"I'm going to have to speak to your father about where he allowed you to be raised," Clarissa murmurs, a bit testily. She composes her face in a smile--a more deliberate sequence of motions than Edan normally noticed in his relatives. "But dear, you're a Lord of Chaos now." She indicates Kyauta. "You must not subject yourself to another. It might eat you."
Edan glances at Kyauta, then back to Clarissa. "I took an affine. Of course. I am..." He looks about to say more, but then closes his mouth and thinks a moment.
"My father and I have talked on this subject, many times," he says. "There is similar opinion in Amber, as you know. And yet, those of Amber regard the Unicorn, our great grand-mare, as an almost holy creature. I argued that there was room in our personal philosophy for a creator, for a supreme being. I have searched for mathematical evidence, a proof of sorts, of the Merciful One's handiwork. If I can prove that, then I can prove the existence of God. So far, in the complexity of that task, I have not been successful. But, then, my Father was not able to disprove Him, either."
"We know who the Creator was. Your great-grandfather. All the maths point in that direction--not that he cares, or will answer, or will bother to keep anyone else from stealing all the credit." Clarissa rolls her eyes theatrically.
Edan smiles in response. "Yes... they point that way," he says, slowly, "but there is still doubt. The equations are not complete. Could an even higher power have motivated Dworkin, whether he was aware of it or not? Does God exist in that unknown, that fraction of proof that is not yet seen? It was the central theme of our arguments. Someday, I will finish it. I just need time, and observation, and patience. I have all of these."
He pauses long before speaking again. "Forgive me, my grandmother, if I appear obstinate. One could clearly see the hand of the Merciful One in the Dar-es Salaam. I was taught this, growing up. The history of men and djinn. The aesthetics of the Golden Ratio. The mountain that moved to the One Prophet. So many more. Tantalizing hints of these are seen far past my own shadow, and they are not explained by the Fractal Reflection equations of the Patterns. My father may not agree with me, but he has always considered me a brilliant mathematician. I laid my proofs and plans of attack before him, and he could see my point. He is waiting, as I do, until the answer is found." Edan looks up. "Were you there, when the Pattern was inscribed? When Amber and its Shadows were formed? How did it feel to you?"
Clarissa shakes her head. "The only ones who remember that are your great-grandfather and great-grandmother, and neither of them is talking. Or perhaps some of the Trapped Lords, and they're less likely to speak of it. Everyone else has changed too much to know."
"Trapped Lords... like the Dragon?" Edan asks. "That explains much as to my loss of memory when the black rains came."
"Black rains?" Clarissa asks, and then thinks about it for a moment, her face screwing up in concentration. "Oh, those. No. I meant when the Pattern was made originally, not the late unpleasantness. Have you resolved your equations since then?"
"As to my project?" Edan shakes his head. "There was data, but I am committed to a long-term plan of gathering more evidence and using the information for the equations. A few centuries' worth, perhaps. One can extrapolate only so far- after all, you can draw an infinite number of curves through two points." He smiles.
Clarissa shakes her head. "The old data may not be congruent with the new configuration of the universe, Edan. I don't have the mathematics your father does, but I understand that when you make the universe anew, rational numbers may become irrational and vice versa. You'd have to address the details to him, but the old data is probably no good for your purposes."
"Ah. Yes." Edan looks nonplussed, but only for a moment. "Not having experienced a re-making of the universe before... well. I shall simply have to recalculate and start anew. It is not as if I was far along on my quest." He glances away, and it's obvious he's frustrated and trying to hide it.
But suddenly, the look clears. "Oh! The flowers. If we are leaving, now is the time to ask. Have you seen... one of these?" With a sweeping gesture, he forms a decent replica of a firelilly out of the air, a replica made of solid smoke and flame. "This is one of the things I was hunting. They would be remarkable, this side of the Tree. They would be Fixed."
Clarissa narrows her eyes. "I haven't, no. But if they are Fixed, someone will find them and send one of the courts tainted by Order word. They may have already done so, just not to me. Unfortunately," she says delicately, "I am not on the best terms with either Borel or Madoc just now. Particularly Madoc."
"Saeth. I had heard." Edan's voice is pure honey. "It is most unfortunate. Anyone could see what you were trying to do, the gift you had arranged at great effort."
Clarissa beams at Edan. "I knew someone in the family would understand."
The affines begin to serve a dish, perhaps in the Amber style, but it is meat and Edan does not think it is from a creature the Merciful one would forbid ... at least not as far as he can tell.
"Would you like me to send to Borel?"
Edan smiles at the thought. "After the coronation in Amber? If Lord Borel suspects that I am somehow behind the question, her answer would not only be wrong, but include a trap." The smile fades a bit. "To be certain, I would have to see the flowers for myself. It is ironic, that the very same Adonis helped bring them into being."
"Will you tell me that story, nephew?" Clarissa asks. She takes her knife up to cut her meat, and Edan notices, if he has not before, that his grandmother has six fingers.
"It was around the time of Oberon's funeral," Edan says, and spreads his hands. "Time is so fluid there... Adonis and Lilly were together, and encountered a group of rock-people. Their representative was a creature who called itself the Hob, and called its people the Pwca. There was a contest of stories, I believe, in payment for their travel through the area. Eventually, Adonis convinced Lilly to pierce his side with her sword; blood gushed forth, and those flowers sprang up. The Hob took Adonis's blood as a sacrifice, and let them go." Edan suddenly smiles. "A shorter version of a story than I am used to telling. No embellishment."
"I know a bit of the Hob." Clarissa nods agreeably. "A dangerous choice, that. And difficult to tell factually when facts are ... fluid."
"When I traveled Shadow with my father, I encountered the word 'Hob' before," Edan says. "There are many reflections of a trickster, an earth-based fae who serves an..." he pauses, "Oberon. And suddenly, we see it in other places. I wonder whom it serves, truly. And its greater purpose. Not to mention, the veracity of its words and what it is doing. My opinion has been that it is using these firelillies to lay trails where normally, a path cannot be made."
"How so?" Clarissa asks, interested. Edan suspects she has her own ideas about what he means, but she politely lets him proceed while she eats.
"Adonis's blood," Edan says, pausing in his own repast to speak. "Being Julian's son, his blood would introduce an element of Order... thus, I think the flowers would be Fixed. In this place, it would be an easy trail for those that could not alter the stuff of Chaos." Edan puts down his fork. "I do not know if firelillies were what Adonis intended when he guided Lilly's blade into his body. I think, perhaps, he wanted to bless the place with life. He was a fertility god, after all. I thought the flowers were the result of a spell on the Pwcas' part, but now I understand the alteration of Chaos is the same thing. The Hob thanked them, said he knew exactly what to do with the blood." Edan pauses and smiles. "It just so happens that I encountered one of the Moonriders on this side of the Tree, racing in Count Madoc's race. I understand that they are very good in following paths through Shadow... but they are not Lords of Chaos. They are not Lords of Amber. They would need help. Like, for instance, a guide, or a trail to follow."
Clarissa nods. "The Marshall might have enough power on his own, but his lieutenants do not. And as many as the Marshall can take on by himself, there are limits to what he might carry with him. Once the paths were rewritten, along with the rest of the universe, his options for travelling were much more limited. I can see how he might want to take advantage of the flowers. I wonder if he made a bargain with the Hob, and if so what he exchanged."
She resumes eating on that thought.
"What would the Hob want?" Edan asks. "As for the flowers, if I find one, I will know. I am strong where there is fire. I speak its language." He shrugs, slightly. "I was remiss in Amber. Uncle Julian has now closed Arden, and I will not tresspass there. If there are flowers here, well, it can wait at least until I meet my cousin. What you offer is more important."
"You flatter me. But if I can find you one of those flowers before we leave, I will."
Clarissa snaps her fingers and almost before the sound reaches Edan's ears, and a grackleflint appears. "My grandson is seeking word of a sorcery forged by the Hob." She turns to Edan. "If you will show him ..."
"Of course." Edan summons the flower replica again, and describes what needs to be looked-for as best he can.
Clarissa asks him questions which Edan realizes are designed to elicit the sorcerous feel--no, taste--of the firelillies for the benefit of the grackleflints.
".... and don't eat them!" Clarissa finishes her instructions and sends the grackleflint on its way.
By the time Clarissa has finished her questions and giving her lecture, the meal is over. After farewells, the heptapod reappears and leads Edan back to his chambers. The route is not the reverse of the way they came, which Kyauta can explain is the result of non-Euclidean geometry.
Last modified: 10 October 2008