Following her return to Amber after the harrowing business with Caine and the death of Pinabello inside the trump room, Paige ends up alone in her chambers, with time to relax, bathe, clean up, and deal with her correspondence.
Among the many missives waiting for Paige's attention is one from Alain LeClaire. When she opens it, she finds that it is an invitation to dinner at his home, if she happens to be in Amber this evening. If Paige hurries, she can make it to his home in time.
She dashes off a note, the outside addressed to Caine.
Uncle-
Expect to begin recruiting in the morning. Looking for a Quartermaster tonight.
Paige.
She hands it to a page and directs him to the Regent's office. Once he's gone, Paige looks in the mirror, perhaps pleased for the first time with her short hair. It had dried much quicker from the baths than her hair had ever dried. She considers what she might do to find herself some mousse, or something to give it a little lift. Her people had been thorough in packing her townhouse, but fortunately she had thought to leave some clothes here, most even hers.
Stepping out of the too-short purple robe, she grins at the curves motherhood had left her. Lucas had told her that he thought they were flattering, the lech. Her grin spread wider thinking of her cousin and his expected response to her settling into such a respectable job as a Ranger.
Which brings her back round to Alain LeClaire. Paige starts tossing clothes from the wardrobe to the bed. She contemplated. She hadn't pressed Random on it, but it was unlikely that he had granted the divorce yet, but expected that the damn drummer would likely give it to him eventually. As she sorted through the pile of skirts and blouses, she considered the legal ramifications and then the social repercussions of this call.
As she holds up different combinations of clothes in front of the mirror, she considers what they say about her. Former lover? Princess of Amber? Wandering minstrel? Warden of Broceliande? Scandal magnet? She settles on split riding skirts that will allow her to ride astride instead of take a carriage, hopefully making up for these moments of indecision. A lighter blouse that reminds her that she's still feminine, a jacket from a hunting outfit she's not sure that she's ever worn, and boots suitable for the planned ride. The effect is more Warden and less Lover, falling well in the purview of Princess, if the latter's definition in town is still that the royals are an eccentric lot and make their own fashion choices. Scandal Magnet was a role, not a fashion choice, anyway. A dab of sandalwood and lavender in the hollow of her throat, gold combs to pull back the sides of her short hair, her gold necklace, two rings of gold and emerald to match the jacket, and silk wrapped Trumps in a pocket finish the preparations. Before she leaves, she remembers the bottle of wine she obtained her last visit to Heerat. It wasn't from there, their beliefs not going toward fermented grape or grain, but anything could be had in the bazaar.
She arrives at the LeClaire's less than ten minutes before the appointed time without lathering the horse, and is pleased to present the invitation to whatever servant answers the door and the wine to whichever arrives next.
The butler welcomes Paige, advising her that Alain will join her shortly. Madam LeClaire is away visiting her mother, he assures her as he leads her to Alain's study.
The study is appointed in dark heavy woods, and has a surprising variety of books for a home in Amber, where literacy is not always the order of the day. A few minutes after the butler leaves her, Alain enters the study, looking as dashing as she remembers.
"Paige." He smiles, and extends his arms in greeting.
The redhead returns the smile warmly, accepting the embrace, tilting her head up toward his face. "I always loved how you said my name," she says. "Even when it wasn't my name." She kisses him softly and then draws back enough to look in his eyes. "Good evening, Alain."
Paige untangles herself from his arms and gets around to handing him the bottle of wine. "Open that to let it breathe and pour me a drink of something else while you tell me what the occasion is."
Alain moves to do exactly that, providing her with a tumbler of fine imported whisky from a decanter on the sideboard. He takes one for himself. "I thought to see you if you had time. Rumor had you in the city, and you've been gone so much that I had to make shift to see you while I could."
Paige intuits this is true, but not all of the truth: Alain has secondary motives. But he always does.
"Time? It's the thing I have least control over," she chuckles as she takes a seat on the couch nearest the window. "But I can normally make some for you, if I had but known it was that important to you..."
Paige tosses back the whiskey and asks, "So, are we going to get down to it right here?" She starts unbuttoning her jacket slowly, as part of the bluff. "Or did you have something you wanted to ask me that makes your wife's home more suitable than my rooms at the Prince?"
"I thought we could have a pleasant dinner before we had either kind of discussion--assuming you want that kind of discussion. But if you'd rather have business before dinner," Alain says, doing his best not to sound offended, "I was going to ask you if you'd heard about the disposition of the divorce petition before King Random."
She doesn't hide her offense. "That's a petition I likely have no business discussing," Paige answers. "I'm not exactly an impartial party in that."
Which is, on consideration, probably why Alain asked Paige. The role of princes in bringing situations to the King's attention is an important part of how court functions. A petition that has the attention of a prince--perhaps not Paige herself, but her father--is likely to be resolved by the King much more quickly than one that has no one to draw the King's eye to it.
She shakes her head and stands again, going to pour herself a second drink. "I haven't heard anything, but I haven't asked either."
"Any inportant reason? She planning on staying here or something?"
"There's some question of whether she's fit to travel. And whether she wants to." Which is clearly to Paige's ears a touchy subject for Alain, too.
Paige returns to his side, her tone soothing and bordering on suggestive, "And your plans and wants?"
"I think it's time for me to leave Amber." Alain looks at Paige. "When everything you want has gone on, what's the point of staying?"
Paige opens her mouth to speak, about to list the opportunities still here in Amber for an ambitious young man, but considers his words again. She meets his eyes quietly for a long moment. "Just what do you want that's gone on, Alain?"
Alain does not look away. "I think you know what I want, my lady."
"I make no promises," Paige answers softly. "Nor do I expect that even with a divorce you might ever possess more of me than you have since the war. My uncle, the King, may not be inclined to allow me to marry, especially if he believes it is the true reason behind your divorce." She keeps her own counsel on what commitments she herself would be willing to make.
"Beyond that, my own new responsibilities will be keeping me out of Xanadu proper, I expect," she adds. "Perhaps we should have dinner, I can explain where a man of your talents and knowledge might make a new start, and we can discuss how to get a Prince to take up your petition."
Paige pulls back from him, and saunters toward the door. "Then we can discuss dessert," she hints over her shoulder.
"Very well." Alain doesn't sound terribly put out about the outcome of the first round, so maybe he is looking forward to the second. He takes her into the dining room, where a sumptuous dinner by the current standards of Amber is laid out. It would have been a small elegance in the days before the war, but now everything in Amber is just ... less.
Alain calls for the first course to be brought out and lets Paige lead the conversation where she will.
Over the appetizer Paige asks of their friends in Amber and what plans any of them have made toward Xanadu, specifically Lords Jewel and Laurel and the merchant Bliss.
Everyone who is anyone is preparing to move to Xanadu, although some have also expressed an interest in Paris.
Paige thinks Paris has a better infrastructure already but Xanadu has more opportunity, for exactly that reason.
During the fish course, she mentions that she's in Amber recruiting Rangers. "Broceliande has more of a magical feel than Arden's oppressive Forest Primeval foreboding. There will be room for the twins to run, and still be under my watch and that of my Rangers, among other concerns like controling traffic, perhaps trade routes eventually. Oh, and protecting the realm from the Arcadian Dragon and her daughters." She shrugs.
"I was hoping that I might find someone with more of a head for the lists and columns of keeping my troops clothed, fed, and paid. Smuggling some entertainments never forced me to keep the books very straight." She smiles and raises her glass. "One of the perks of being a royal is that it's not smuggling anymore.
"So, before I actually begin looking for someone, do you want the job?" Paige asks, watching the wine swirl about the bottom of her glass.
"That," says Alain, meeting her gaze as best he can, "depends on the perks. I could easily be persuaded to take it, if that's what you want."
She matches his look, seriously, "I'm not trying to entice you. I'm trying to find someone capable that I trust to fill an important role.
"As to perks, I would believe that you would be able to enjoy the ones you already have much more easily if we're living in the same forest."
"Living in the same forest will definitely be more convenient, in a variety of ways. And who knows yet what the divorce laws in Xanadu are?" That seems to be a rhetorical question, because Alain continues, "I'll take it. The family will object and I'll tell them to go hang."
Paige nods and offers a small smile at his prospective response to his family. She waits for the servants to clear the fish and set the meat before beginning again. "As to divorce laws, the corollary would be marriage laws. How exactly would you present your intentions and expectations from this relationship?"
Alain leans forward in his chair slightly. "To whom? To the king? Your father? You?"
Paige considers for a moment before answering. "Let's begin with the most important. Me.
"Then we can discuss what we will tell the others."
"I don't know what to say." Alain pauses. "I just know we were happy together once. So much has happened since then to both of us that we can't go back to where we were. I want to be with you but marriage seems like--it was all about property and trade and money and politics, and both of us were happier when none of that was involved. And I don't know enough about your children to say what difference that makes. But I'd like to find out."
Paige doesn't answer for a long moment. "We were happy once, weren't we? It was a simpler time when it was just princes fighting for a throne, somehow. Now I find myself defending it against the same sort I once was, for the sake of my children and those I... I care about.
"Like you. I'd like to find out as well, and the rest can go hang. We'll put no name on it before it needs one," she decides and digs into the roast.
If he has no other particulars, she will fall into the role of doting mother and forewarn him of what to expect with Leif and Brooke, their size, age, intelligence, temperment, and such. She doesn't skirt the problems with the Dragon or Artemis and Arcadia, since as one of her Rangers he will need to know.
After the decadent chocolate dessert, Paige suggests that they retire someplace more comfortable for drinks instead of the coffee he offers.
Alain has a suggestion of a comfortable chamber upstairs that he believes has everything she might be looking for in it.
A short ride through the city and out towards Arden shows Paige what she already knows; the only thriving business in Amber is the departure business. The city is quiet, for The City. The guards at the gate are on high alert and, once they recognize Paige, the captain wishes to ask her questions. There are rumors at the gates of an attack on Prince Caine and other disasters, and they have been put on alert. He offers to arrange an escort for Paige, given all of the issues.
Paige appreciates the offer, but decides to ride on her own, as she may not be staying within Arden's borders and the Guards are better suited here.
Regardless of her decision to accept or reject the escort, the road to Heather Vale and then on to Arden is clear in the morning's sunshine, and looks to be untravelled.
Paige picks up the pace, letting her mount have some freedom to run. She makes for Heather Vale, not waiting unless the Rangers need a similar explanation she gave the Guards. Once within the forest, she calls for her cousin Lalal.
A wind picks up, blowing along a narrow corridor from the darkest part of the forest and over Paige and her horse and across a garlanded sapling springing unexpectedly from the water.
It responds when she calls for her cousin.
Along a ridge near the tattered remains of what was once an orderly camp, a large black bear appears, and sits on her haunches, watching.
Paige dismounts, a hand resting casually on the Jade Dawn, but she makes no overt aggressive movements. She tries to recognize Artemis in the bear's face, wondering if day is the wrong time to summon the mistress of the children of the moon.
"Cousin, I would speak with you," she offers.
The bear doesn't come any closer, but it does sit up like a person would. The wind picks up and starts to beat in a rhythmic pattern, almost as if it speaking. The breeze seems almost intelligent; any move she makes towards the bear is met with wind in her face.
She fights her instinct to reach out and ensure that the children are safe and focuses her perception on the wind. Keeping her distance from the bear, Paige seats herself, beginning, "I am a woman of water, not wind, but I listen. I speak.
"My King will offer surety for those that would swear his allegiance, and welcome them to our new home. Through the mystic wood Broceliande, I will accept them and their pledges," the redhead continues, feeling silly if she's just chatting up one of Arden's creatures.
The bear stands and she transforms into a woman, specifically into Artemis. She shouts over the wind. "A fair offer, but Lalal, my sister seems to be beckoning you inwards as if you mean it be an offer for her and hers.
"Is the offer open to all, and how will you protect this Broceliande from my Mother?" The wind drives directly into Paige's face, picking up bits of dirt and tiny rocks on the way.
Paige nods, "He extends it to those that would swear his allegiance, both your children and hers."
"Broceliande will be warded as Arden once was, with the power of Order and those that would meet her with sword and sorcery. I am here in Amber recruiting sturdy souls for just that purpose."
The redhead concentrates for a moment, thinking that it's (Pattern) probable that by stepping around the nearest bole, she will avoid much of the wind and debris.
Paige does and it is, but the wind shifts, as if directed. It's much louder now, and it's almost definitely directed. "La La la la La La laaa..." it seems to be saying.
Artemis walks into the wind. It seems more difficult than it should be, for someone who can turn into a bear.
"We war here, and my sister, for all her ridiculous indirections, means that if I and mine take your offer, you invite war with my other sister, or sisters. Do you have the womanpower to keep us from harming each other?
"And do you intend to bind us to the King using the old methods?"
[Paige has a law background in Amber, specific to property law and the peerage. Anything that "the old methods" brings to mind?]
[Legally it would be oaths of fealty and grants of land, but traditionally what's worked with them and Arden was more personal, but still pretty feudal...]
"Not yet, but swearing the King's allegiance will bind you all to a common purpose. While sad, the passing of Arcadia will remove that source of strife and contention. Me and mine will police the wood and its inhabitants, those that cannot keep the peace will be dealt with, cousins or not."
"They would want to be able to protect themselves." She nods. "And how and when can we seal this bargain with the King?"
The wind picks up, and Paige is nearly knocked over.
"Your sister opposes you, Grandmother of my Children," Paige states, rising back up and leaning into the wind.. "But I will not be coerced. My King has offered you both the same sureties, I can do no less.
"I will be in Broceliande within a week, should my recruiting go well. Are there those among yours that would swear the King's pledge and serve with me to protect all? As more migrate, I will have need of warriors and sorcerers both," she explains to Artemis.
Artemis nods, turns back into a bear, and departs.
"Lalal! Hear me. Your Children will be safe, as safe as we can make them," she calls into the wind.
The wind shifts, blowing into the woods. It is no longer picking up debris.
Paige allows the wind to guide her, but walks cautiously, scanning her surroundings with more care as she walks deeper into the Great Wood.
Paige enters the woods and finds that the wind leads her directly to a very green clearing.
Sitting in it are a large number of men, women, and children. They have what are probably their earthly belongings with them. There are horses, but not as many as there are people. Moving amongst them is Lalal. Oddly, people only seem to notice her when she is actually immediately in contact with them.
She turns at Paige's approach. "My sisters and I are very bad at sharing."
"I suppose I should count myself lucky for only having met my brother since I have grown," the redhead answers with a smile. "And both of you lucky as well that My King is better than any of us at it. Sharing his new kingdom, that is.
"These are the Children of the Moon?" she asks her cousin.
"These are. Some of them. They are simple men and women, and good workers. What does your King propose?"
"To let them do just that. Xanadu is a new place, brimming with opportunity for honest, good workers," Paige answers, looking between the collected people.
"Those that aren't your Children? Is one of your sisters going to come looking for them?" she asks. "I've heard that you don't share well." The redhead winks at her cousin softening the jest.
She notices neither the jest nor the softening. "You have heard correctly, but our people are ... people. Children of ourselves, and we are children of a goddess of the earth. It is an odd pantheon as far as goddesses go. We are all the fertility goddess, and our children inherit fecundity." She smiles at them. "One of the risks my sisters worry about in your new forest is that the peoples will intermingle, intermarry, interbreed and Artemis will no longer be distinct from Calliste."
"It may happen, as I cannot believe King Random would outlaw intermarriage," Paige allows. "Do you carry secondary roles that could be more distinct, such as your connection to the moon, or Artemis's to her bear form and her Maenads?"
"You king should fear that eventuality. If we merge, our mother will be free. I have grown used to being distinct."
Paige nods, watching the interplay of the people. "I will bring that possibility to his attention," she promises.
"What intentions do you have once your people have migrated?"
She looks confused for a moment, then nods. "Goddesses are not creatures of plans and schemes. Our nature is not to have intentions but to have impulses and reactions. For intentions, we rely on those who serve us. Would you like to meet my high priestess?"
Paige keeps the thought that under that criteria apparently she's been a goddess for centuries to herself. She nods to Lalal. "I would very much wish to speak with her."
Lalal walks among her people, beckoning Paige to follow her. As she passes them, she puts a hand on a shoulder or an arm, and the people look up and smile, the go about their business when she passes on.
She comes to a woman surrounded by other women, sitting in a circle. She sits opposite her, and the circle makes room, without saying anything.
There is room for Paige as well.
"She is with us," says the woman at the far side of the circle.
"I am Lady Paige, Warden of the Mystic Wood, Broceliande," the redhead begins. "I carry greetings from His Majesty, King Random of Xanadu to all those that would seek immigration to his realm."
"There is another, a wood-warden with her, but a woman doing man's work. She offers us shelter and peace in her woods, if we are true to Lalal." The other women look impressed and whisper excitedly amongst themselves.
Paige turns to regard Lalal quizically, but supresses her questions within ear shot of the priestess. "We will travel by sea, within the week if all goes well," Paige continues.
Impulse gets the better of her and she whispers to her cousin. "Can she hear me? And if so, why not, nor seem to see me?"
Lalal looks unsure. "The sea is no friend of ours, we will need to travel through the wood. She cannot hear you because she is not here."
"Then how can I perceive them? Is this some of your magic?" Paige asks.
Lalal is on more firm ground here, talking about herself. "They are not here, but we are with them. I am always with my people. Goddesses do not do magic; the divine have no need of it.
"Perhaps magic was the wrong term, cousin. My apologies," Paige demurs.
"Then they are in Arcadia? I cannot allow their passage to open a way for your mother's passage into Broceliande. The sea will serve."
She looks cross. "Let me be clear. I cannot go via sea and my people will not go without me."
Paige maintains her composure. "Cousin, I am sure that you can understand my desire to limit your mother's interactions with this journey," she begins.
"By land then, but a longer journey, and one I may need enlist a cousin for." Paige produces her Trumps and shuffles through, before settling on her Aunt Fiona.
"A moment please..."
Fiona's face forms. She is walking on a mountainside, quite likely Kolvir, in the moonlight. "Paige?"
"I am sorry to bother you, Aunt," Paige begins. "I am in Arden, speaking with Cousin Lalal and find I may have need of a cousin to lead ships back to Xanadu in my place, as I will be traveling by land.
"My apologies for being short, but you wouldn't know which of my cousins might be at loose ends?" she asks with a smile. "Beside that I might have questions on the best way to minimize what temporary way I might open between Arden and Broceliande.
"Of course, that's enough of my troubles," she says. "How fare you?"
Fiona smiles. "I'm with Corwin, Brita, and Hannah. Brita was with Random, helping to recover Vialle. Random's party has returned to Xanadu, and I'm going down to see them now. I can ask if there's anyone who can help you lead ships from Amber to Xanadu."
Some of this is obviously said for the benefit of the onlookers.
A moment later, Fiona adds, "I'll tell Paige of your generous offer, Brita."
Paige's mind runs over the discussions she had before leaving for Allan's the night before. "I'm sorry, but Vialle's recovery from..." she leads the conversation.
"She disappeared, the night that Cambina died. Random led a party to rescue her," Fiona explains.
Paige nods, "Perhaps Brita might call later and I can get caught up on what I've been missing."
"I'll suggest that to her. Good luck in your dealings with Lalal, Paige. Contact me again when you have more time; we have much to discuss." Fiona closes the contact.
Lalal has been waiting for the trump contact to end. "What did your goddess say?"
"That our goddess cousin, Brita of the Waters, may be able to fulfil my obligations so I might lead your people. I will speak to her later of ways to protect our passage from your mother, to be sure.
"I will still need a few days to gather my men and women and arrange their passage as well."
Lalal nods. "We will wait. My people are like seeds in the wind."
"I will be your zephyr as soon as I have recruited the men and women to see to their safety, Cousin," Paige promises.
"Are there any other geas upon you or your people of which I should know?" she asks.
"None. It is mete. The air carries the seed to the cleared land, where it grows into a new forest. We will await."
She does not move, but seems to fade.
Paige considers that she should learn that trick sometime, soon. More specifically speaking with Brita on this whole godhead thing. She mounts again and heads back to the City, to begin recruiting her rangers.
When the meeting in the remains of Caine's library breaks up, Corwin leads Hannah toward the library.
"Corwin, am I to understand both Bleys and Benedict think Moonriders can't possibly be the problem in Tir, at least, right now? Is it not possible Tir exists in the future, but we only see it now?" Hannah asks.
"That's one possibility, that Tir is somewhat out of time, or parts of it are. It would explain some of the problems with the Queen of Air and Darkness. But the Moonriders aren't there now; they'll just want to go there if she is, or wait for her return. Or go looking for her. We--for value of we meaning Paris and Xanadu and Amber--don't want them doing much of anything," Corwin explains. "Stirring them up is trouble, especially with Dad gone. And they know he's gone, because the Marshall was at Dad's funeral.
"And who, or what, exactly, is the Queen of Air and Darkness?" Hannah wonders.
"She's their goddess. Their word, not mine," Corwin clarifies. "When we're done in the library, you should talk to Bleys. He's the closest thing we have to an expert on the Moonriders, mostly through his work with the Knights of Altamar."
"I meant to do that. I was thoroughly distracted by Robin. What does Altamar have to do with the Moonriders, then?" she asks.
"The Moonriders are an offspring of the Altamareans. They bound themselves to the Queen of Air and Darkness long ago, and the Altamareans are what's left of the group that didn't bind themselves. Bleys rescued them and took them across Shadow when they were on the point of extermination by their brothers." Corwin gives Hannah a crooked smile. "Brotherly love: join or die."
Hannah smiles back. "Yes, that's part of how I got Hannah for a name. Is the Queen very powerful then, a real leader, or is she more symbolic?"
"Symbolism and real power aren't mutually exclusive. My current guess is she's both, and that's why they're trying to get back to her. I haven't tangled with her directly, although this--" Corwin pats Greyswandir, which is sheathed at his side "--gives me some insights, and I was here through the war. That war."
Hannah's look follows his hand curiously. She looks back up to meet his eyes, delighted. "How does it do that? Does your sword talk to you?"
"Sort of." Corwin stops in the hall and steps back to draw the sword from its sheath slowly. He presents the flat of the blade to Hannah for inspection. "Do you see the tracery there? Does it speak to you at all? Do you recognize it?"
It takes Hannah a moment to realize she does; that even though she hasn't seen it very often, she knows in her bones she's looking at a part of the Pattern.
Hannah brings her fingers up to run along but not quite touch the blade. "Oh, yes. Does it give you visions, then? Which... oh, it is tied to the design in Tir, then, isn't it? Does Tir come out in Paris too?" She rushes through the string of questions before she looks up at Corwin, tilting her head to observe him anew.
"I can see Tir in Paris, but there's no stair. There's only a passage to Rebma. And the blade was forged on the steps of Tir, or so legend has it, by Weyland Smith. But that was before I was born, I think." Corwin moves to sheathe the blade. "We should move on. I'm not sure how much time we have and I don't want to miss moonrise."
Hannah nods, a motions for him to lead the way. "So someone else had your blade first, perhaps? Do you know who?"
"Well, as I said, the legend has it that Weyland made it on the steps to Tir," Corwin says. "He also made Bleys' sword Werewindle, and, according to legend, Cneve's great blade that he used in defense of Rebma in the Triton wars. Some of the older legends are lost, though. Werewindle is Bleys's, and Grayswandir is mine."
"Right, one for each... design," Hannah says more quietly. "Did you ever meet Weyland?"
"Many years ago. The rumor was that he's dead, but as someone whose rumored demise turned out to be exaggerated, I need a lot more than a rumor to believe it."
Hannah and Corwin have arrived at the library. One of the junior librarians comes out to see to their needs and Corwin sends her off to find Nestor. Soon enough, Nestor appears. Behind his glasses, he is obviously red-eyed, and his shoulders are slumped.
"Your Highness requires my services?" he asks. His voice sounds a little rough.
Corwin nods. "I need to know what, if anything, Cambina said to you before she went up to Tir, and I need to see any papers she left behind. I know you were in her confidence. It's important and it may save Queen Vialle's life. Also, Hannah may have some requests of her own." He looks to Hannah.
Hannah gives Nestor a sympathetic smile. "Do you have anything Cambina wrote that doesn't make sense in a historical context but perhaps... has been placed with her historical work? I'm looking for items that refer to the King or Queen but yet don't name them directly. It could be quite old, not recent."
Nestor looks at Hannah. "There's nothing on the shelves." He doesn't immediately respond to Corwin's request.
Hannah reaches out to take Nestor's hand. "I'm so sorry we have to come ask you for these things right now, Nestor. Is there anything at all? Things she asked be kept back or... hid, that you know about? Or anything she said around you?"
Nestor sighs. "My apologies, my Lady, your Highness. As Cambina is wont to tell me, I am quite capable of making everything about myself. Was."
"She was quite sure that the stairs would appear this night. She had apparently seen them the night before, but by the time she rode up to the spot, they were gone. She spent all day quite agitated. Then she just... became calm.
"I told her to have a spotter, but she told me it would be fine." He sighs again. "If you want her papers, they're in her quarters.
Hannah nods. "Thank you. What time was it when you last spoke to her, Nestor?"
"It was after supper, getting dark She said she'd been up there so much that she was perfectly safe." He paused. "I'm afraid we quarreled."
Hannah rubs Nestor's hand comfortingly before she lets him go. She stays close though.
Corwin looks over at a closed writing desk. "This was hers?," he asks Nestor, opening it up without waiting for a response.
Hannah's eyes follow Corwin.
Corwin pulls out a stack of papers, including what looks like some sort of a list of tasks. He reads it, and takes out a pen and begins making notes on it.
After Nestor answers, she asks, "Did she mention Queen Vialle?"
Nestor sighs. "No, I was as surprised as any when I heard that she took the Queen, who was always kind to me, to the city of visual illusions. I was not much in Cambina's confidences in recent days. Not since..." He trails off.
Hannah purses her lips. "Did you think she'd been acting strange?" she asks more quietly. "I mean, strange for Cambina?"
Nestor's lips get tense, only for a moment. "Her highness had not, in any way that I was privileged to know, prior to yestere'en." He forces a smile.
"And was the strangeness then just her going up with no... spotter? Or was it something more than that?" she wonders.
"Your pardon, Lady, but I cannot tell you more for I know no more. The Lady Cambina was a private person, and I have not been her closest confidant for some months." He sounds bitter.
Hannah understands bitter. "Well, again, I thank you for talking to us. My sympathies, Nestor, regardless. Corwin? Do you have anything more to ask this gentleman?"
Corwin sets down the papers he was examining. "No, I think I've found out what I needed to know, Thank you, Nestor."
He turns to Hannah and begins to shuffle out a trump. "If you're ready, we can go back to Xanadu now."
Hannah nods and steps over to Corwin.
Corwin shuffles out his Trumps and contacts Gerard, who brings Hannah and Corwin through to Xanadu.
Gerard is in a different part of the infirmary when they contact him. He looks extremely agitated; Hannah may wonder if his painkillers are failing him. She can see through a window that the sun is dipping below the horizon.
Hannah immediately looks worried.
"We don't have a lot of time, Gerard," Corwin says, "but I still need to talk to Solange about her experience with the woman who looks like the Queen of Air and Darkness."
"Solange is gone, and she'll not be returning for some time," Gerard says simply. His shoulders are hunched and he meets Corwin's gaze reluctantly.
Corwin's expression shifts through incredulous and annoyed to confused. "Why not?"
"I banished her," Gerard explains. He seems to sit up a bit straighter, as if steeling himself. "For taking Cambina's body."
Hannah just stands there a moment in silence. Then, "Do we have it back?" she asks quietly.
"Aye, we do, and that's why Vere isna banished as well," Gerard says. "He recalled his oath."
Corwin has taken a moment to recover. Scowling and narrow-eyed, he says "We don't have time for this. Hannah and I need to go. Is there another member of the family here to act as a spotter."
Gerard shakes his head. "Fiona is on her way."
"I'll call her." Corwin moves off, just outside the door of the infirmary, to do exactly that.
Gerard shakes his head again and turns back to Hannah. "I'm sorry about that, lass; I wish I'd been able to tell you more gently. But we have Cambina back, and my brother will deal with Solange." From his tone, Gerard expects that to go badly, probably for both him and Solange.
"You don't owe me any apologies, Gerard. You did what you had to do as regent. You just tell Random that too, if he gives you any trouble." She looks worried too, though. "I want you to fight through this and use more of what we brought back for pain relief instead of more morphine, please."
"I've got to be in fit form to govern," Gerard protests.
"I'm not asking you to do otherwise, Gerard. I am asking you to use one tool instead of another," Hannah calmly explains.
"I'll try it. But if I canna abide, we shall go with the other." Which is all the concession Gerard seems ready to make at the moment.
Hannah gives him a shrug. On her best day she can hardly hold him down and make him do what she wants. She digs in her pocket and returns Gerard's trump of Corwin to him.
Gerard takes it.
Across the room, Fiona appears on Corwin's hand, stepping into the room gracefully.
Hannah turns to offer Fiona a welcoming smile. "Thank you for coming to spot for us."
Fiona seems to be assessing the room and its contents. "You're welcome. Do we have anything definitive on what you're looking for in Tir, or is it all just moonlight and shadows, brother?"
Her presence seems to have taken a bit of the edge off of Corwin. "I don't expect to find Vialle, of course. I'm looking for what killed Cambina, or distracted her long enough for the city to catch her out. Cambina apparently visited Tir regularly enough to know the risks." Corwin looks to Fiona and adds, "The Queen of Air and Darkness may be involved."
"That can't be good, not with the Moonriders on the rise." Fiona frowns. "Let me freshen up and we'll go."
Once everything is prepared, Hannah, Corwin, and Fiona make their way up to the top of the cliff where the three steps that form the bottom of the Tir stairway are. By the time they arrive at the top of the cliff, the moon has started to rise and the stairway is beginning to form.
Fiona and Corwin make the trump contact, and then Corwin mounts the three steps and then steps up to the fourth. He turns and offers his hand to Hannah.
Hannah grins before she can help herself and takes his hand. "Is every step a leap of faith?"
"Only if we hurry, or wait for too long." He points over his shoulder with his free hand in the direction of the slowly coalescing silver city. "It's a hike up. Let's get a move on."
To Hannah's eyes, the city is not a direct reflection of what Amber is, but more like what it might have been at its height. In the actual city, as seen from the castle, there are damaged buildings and sections and empty spots where buildings once were and have not been completely reconstructed. If there are any such places in the sky-city above them, they aren't apparent to Hannah.
Hannah and Corwin have hardly taken a half-dozen steps when she realizes that they are a significant fraction of the way up the stair. When she glances back at Fiona, far below now, Hannah can see that their steps have nothing to do with the distance traversed. Tir is a spirit place; will, hers and Corwin's, is what makes the distance fall away, not the motion of their feet.
"Don't look down," Corwin says, and when she does, the steps, like the moonlight, reveal the depths of the ocean below. Perhaps Hannah somehow betrays herself, because Corwin's grip tightens on her hand.
Just when it seems they will never arrive, that some force of will as great as their own is pitted against them, the gate to the city of Amber is there, and Corwin escorts Hannah through the gate into the silvery city, all moonlight and dreams. Though they walked for hours, no, nights, they were standing by Fiona mere moments before.
Corwin releases Hannah's hand and touches Grayswandir: not to draw it, but as if to reassure himself it's still ... something. Whatever he feels satisfies him.
"Where to, Hannah? We have all of Amber before us."
"Let's try Cambina's rooms, or where they would be. Do you know? I've never been in them." Hannah looks around with a critical eye, putting her wonder away.
"I can guess, based on what I know of the Castle. But the Castle doesn't always reflect present times. You may find other ghosts there." He moves off, expecting Hannah to keep up with him.
"Whoa, okay, wait a minute then." Hannah doesn't let him out of sight. "Throne room."
Corwin looks back and nods. "We don't know how long we have. It's easy to lose track of time here, or have the clouds block the moon if we're not careful." He offers Hannah his off hand this time, as if to leave the other free to draw his blade.
Hannah takes his hand, happy to be in contact with him, since he is the one in contact with the ground. She does not distract Corwin from leading them on, but does compare her initial introduction to Castle Amber to this place.
As they make their way up to the Castle, Corwin says, "The last time I came up here, I ended up in the throne room. Dara was there; in the future she was from, Chaos won the war. She told me I was long-dead. Don't be surprised at anything the shades say to you."
Indeed, Hannah can see the shades, spirit-beings, what-have-you, as she walks through the shade of the city. Perhaps if she knew Amber well enough, she would recognize some of them.
"Hm, so they are not bound by truth. Or at least, not the truth of... Amber, then? This will be a facinating exercise in probabilities. To be honest, I was hoping we'd serve as nice bait to draw out whatever happened to Cambina," Hannah admits.
"There may be a truth there. There was last time," Corwin says, pursing his lips and looking a bit sour. "That doesn't mean it's the truth as we understand it. If you see something that you want to investigate, tell me. Grayswandir can bridge the distance between us and them when we need it to."
Hannah nods. "That's so facinating. Perhaps it is part ghost, somehow."
She squeeze Corwin's hand and stops suddenly. "Wait. I think I know that man. Huh. That's one of my cousins."
Corwin follows her gaze to one of the figures nearby. He draws Grayswandir and raises it overhead, taking a moment to bring it to the ground, where he lays it. He steps through the slash in reality and draws Hannah with him.
The Ponca looks straight at Hannah, startled, clearly seeming to recognize her.
Hannah draws a deep breath. Here is a piece of home. "Horses West! What are you doing in Amber?" she asks, reaching out to take his hand, ready to embrace him if he doesn't pull away.
It's Corwin who reaches out to stop her. "Don't," he says, holding her arm to keep her back. "You'll lose him."
Horses West says, "Who is this man, Ohanzee? Do the Protector's men not treat you respectfully?"
"This is my Uncle. Because he and I are spirit walking right now he is afraid if I touch you then you won't be able to see us anymore. So though I have missed all our peoples I will control myself. But tell me, how did you come to be here in Amber?" Hannah asks again, putting a hand on Corwin's arm and wrapping her other in the bottom of her shirt.
Corwin, for once, lets Hannah take the lead.
"I came with the Protector. He took the city after he won the siege of Rebma and slew the one called Bleys. Now we wait to see what our reward will be," Horses West explains.
Hannah can feel Corwin's arm jump at the mention of Bleys' death.
It takes Hannah a moment. Then, "The Protector is Huon, correct?"
Horses West nods. "That is one of his names."
"Can you tell me which name he approached the tribes under?" Hannah asks, her frustration affecting her grip on Corwin.
Horses West's eyes sweep over Corwin and then he looks at Hannah. "He earned his name of Conquers New Stars. Now he leads the Hethuska Society, and he has brought us to this land rich in prizes." He thrusts his chest out slightly, as if to challenge Corwin.
Corwin is ignoring the display, although Hannah can feel that he's tensed up.
Hannah keeps her grip on Corwin's hand, but twists it a bit as she slips between him and West. "Cousin," she begins quite formally, "are there Omaha here too? And where are the women and children?"
"The Omaha cousins have come with us as well. And the women and children are with another part of the army Conquers New Stars has forged. He brought many nations together to conquer the underwater city, and now this one. Come in the flesh, Ohanzee, and I will bring you to him. He will honor you as befits your station in the tribes, and your knowledge as a medicine woman." Horses West is clearly confident of that.
Hannah squeezes Corwin's hand a bit too hard. "I will think on it. Tell me, what happened to Prince Random's wife? Do you know?"
Horses West shakes his head. "I do not know her, but if she is a friend to you, I will send the word through the tribes that she must not be harmed."
Corwin says quietly, "Let me know when you're ready to move on."
Hannah sighs. "I can't say that my friend, as I think my world is much different from the one you are in. I hope things have not become so brutal for you that you'd harm people who aren't warriors."
She turns to look up at Corwin. "Let's go."
Corwin steps across the blade again, taking Hannah with him, and Horses West fades to a silvery shade, looking around for Hannah. "Fiona tells me they've found Vialle. Do you want to go down now, or is there something else you need to see first?"
Hannah musters a half-smile. "No, I've had enough. Unless you think we might be able to learn more of what happened to Cambina by staying."
Corwin bends over to pick up Grayswandir. "I doubt we'd learn anything that makes sense. I'm told one of Cambina's strengths was picking truths out of the nonsense of the phantoms of the city."
He extends his hand. "Fi, I'm going to pass Hannah through, and then I'll come through myself."
Last modified: 25 July 2009