[Edan] watches until Hannah is out of sight; then, checking his reflection in the river, he makes his way back to Estimaza's lodge. On the way, he makes a mental call for Kyauta, but will not as yet use sorcery to force the call if his affine does not answer.
Great Lord! Do you need me? I am afraid I cannot come to you quickly without assistance.
~No. I'm checking up on you, and our link. If you are well, I shall expect to see you at the big tree by the next sunrise. If you are not, I shall come to you. Edan trudges onward towards the lodge.
I am in a fish, eating it. I ... can almost certainly eat my way out by then, Great Lord!
The lodge is across the clearing from Edan; the horses whinny when they scent him.
Very well, then... call to me if you run into trouble.
Taking a deep breath, Edan squares his shoulders and walks back to the entrance of the lodge. If not met beforehand, not knowing exactly the proper form, he scratches at the side of the entrance.
There is no answer, but he hears snores from inside.
Taking care to erase what must either be the remnants of a silly grin or the beginnings of a guilty look from his features, Edan scratches louder at the door frame and adds, "Ah... hello? Estimaza?"
There is a snort, followed by the sound of stirring, then the blanket is pulled aside. "Yes? Firedancer? Where is Ohanzee?"
"She went on to find her Grandfather Bear," Edan says. "She asked me to come back and ask you... to meet her at the big tree in the morning, if you... or you and Elm... intended to come with her. And despite her desire to honor our dead cousin, she would come to you if you wished to speak with her and stayed here."
The man smells strongly of tobacco. "Elm and I believe that I was waiting here to be brought to our people to help them not be stupid any more. We will go with her, and if we are to honor my dead step-niece, that is an honoring I would be pleased to offer."
Edan bows. "I must go wake the great tree, then, and talk to him and ask him a favor," he says. "I will see you there in the morning, then, Estimaza, if not before."
The young man who doesn't look like he could possibly be Enana's father nods. "Look out for bear. They are a jealous lot," he says, smiling.
"Ah..." Edan smiles and nods back. "Of course. I will. I shall see you there."
He turns, and makes the long walk back to the place where he first made his camp only a day before, but what suddenly seems like a very long time ago. It is a long walk, but he spends the time remembering what he was originally going to do and how he was going to do it. When Edan finally arrives, he rebuilds his fire on the ashes of the old, digs a small hole in the earth with his fingers, and fills it with water and shavings of exotic wood and leaves that he finds around him or in his pockets. He dips Enana's three hairs into the mix he's created, pausing every once in a while to stretch the hairs over the fire and let the smoke and heat dry the hairs. After a minute spent doing this, he ties and knots the hairs around his left wrist, knowing that Enana likely felt these gentle manipulations on her own head. He strokes the hairs, once, then stands to start work on the larger spell.
Edan moves in a large circle around the great tree, perhaps twenty yards radius from the center. Every once in a while he stops and clears a little brush and starts a new flame, until there are seven small fires burning around the tree. Strangely, they don't spread and don't light the brush around them. Edan then walks a path from fire to fire, humming something under his breath as he does so, until his circle is fully circumscribed, each fire connected to all the others. Each line contains a strange squiggle that Edan draws in his walk. The circle takes a watch to complete.
When he is finished, Edan goes to the tree and lays his hands upon the bark; he sends his awareness down, deep beneath the roots, down, down to the heat and energy he knows is deep beneath the earth, even in this place of spirits. He pulls the energy back up, funnelling it through his awareness, up to the roots of the great tree and the matrix of containment he himself has created. Slowly, he lets the restless energy of fire work its way into the roots of the tree, up into the trunk, up, up into the branches and the leaves, all the way to the very top. He doesn't have to open his eyes to know that the tree is burning now without heat, a dark greenish flame of energy and health and awareness. He binds that energy to the tree with his name, just for a moment, knowing that the spirit of the tree has woken and can feel and be aware of this new world and the strength that Edan has brought. He makes his plea, then, offering the tree a choice: be aware of this new energy, the world around it, feel this new strength and awareness, for at least a season. Edan offers to return at the change of seasons to offer this source of power, as long as the tree wishes; or, if it wants to go back to its sleep and remain undisturbed, Edan will withdraw and not trouble it again. All he asks in return is to use the power of the tree and its fire to come and go as he wishes, for the tree to remain a guardian of this gateway as long as the power is manifest. He holds, then waiting for the tree's response before he continues.
The tree seems pleased with the new energy, although it doesn't seem to quite understand, it welcomes the gift.
Edan makes the fires and the circle permanent, and the tree will have the awareness to grow and fortify itself, with occasional visits from Edan to continue the binding.
The effect is strong, Edan is convinced he could visit this locale from any fire in this world, and possibly closely related ones like Enana's Blue Earth. Until he tries it, he's not sure about farther.
As he completes his work, Edan feels the oddly familiar stirring of a trump contact.
Hannah heads the bank of the river, picking up a rock to play with, and grinning the whole way. She doesn't linger, but is hopeful she'll find a fishing grandfather down the way. She hums a tune as she goes, but not too loud, because Coyote may be around somewhere.
She looks to the sky and the water and the grasses and breathes deeply of this place she has missed so badly.
The tune seems to form little secretive musical creatures in the air, who hide out of Hannah's line of sight. She can hear them, like ancient echoes, behind her.
After a short walk, Enana tops a small rise. Grandfather stands in the stream, his back to her and his wet fur blue black in the sunlight. He is swatting fish from the river.
"Grandfather, Grandfather, what have you caught for me?" she calls, and continues to up the little hill.
The voice that comes back is deep and sounds like Grandfather's blue-black fur. "Who is that calling to their grandfather thus? Hare, is that you?"
"A little rabbit? It is your Shadow, Grandfather, and I have been gone too long," she calls down the rise. "You used to give me rides on your back and keep me warm after swimming because I didn't have the sense to grow enough fur. Do you remember me?"
A fish is expertly pawed onto the shore, where it flops, still stunned from the great paw-swipe. "Shadows are long in the morning and evening, and gone in the night and noonday sun. Where do you go, Shadow, when you disappear from me?"
"I go following a unicorn to my mother's people, who think they live at the center of all worlds. Could you tell I was not on the Blue Earth, or was I just gone too long?" she asks, circling around the pile of fish. She picks a spot she hopes is out of range and settles herself to watch him fish.
The fish is followed by a second and shortly by a third. They slap wetly on the shore, near to Hannah. "Your father's people are strange. They must be very strong to have bodies in the spirit realm of the world-center. I saw the Unicorn when she passed through the Blue Earth. She did not speak with me."
"She did not speak with me either. I do not know if she has forgotten how to speak like we do, or never knew, or if she simply does not do it because then everyone would be asking her many questions. Like I come to ask you, Grandfather. Are there more of my father's people here?"
"You did not seek me out for an accounting of your family. Ask me more serious questions, or come fish." His great paw stabs the water, and Hannah hears a meaty thump, but the fish swims away.
Hannah smiles. "Very well. First question then: How do I heal a pelvis that has been crushed and then healed back together all wrong?"
"Hmm," says the bear, poking at the river again. "Very specific question. How do you heal it? Others might do otherwise, but you break the problem down into smaller, solvable problems. You reverse the course it is on, step by step. It is your way."
"That is such a long path. I am not sure he can survive that long." She puts her face in her hands, rubs her eyes, and looks over at the river again. "I am trying, but I am not sure he has the patience for this journey. And there are many pressures, from the family. Everyone wants him to heal, because his not healing means they can be stricken this way. So the family is... difficult. His son has sworn not to marry until his father his healed. This is..." she rolls her eyes, "this makes everything more complicated, because the father cannot be the son's first priority right now.
"And my uncle is stubborn, like you, he has all these rules that must be followed. And like you, he is not wrong. But it is hard. And I just knew I was going to come here and you would tell me the hard way is the way for me to try, but I had to come anyway, because I have missed you so much. I wish you could still take me for a ride."
"Why do you think I cannot? You are not too big for a bear. Come ride on me, and I will tell you what you need to know instead of what you asked. It is quite simple."
Hannah smiles and shakes her head, but gets back up and dusts herself off. "Very well, I will listen to good advice while having a ride. I might giggle like a child, but you won't mind at all, will you?"
She starts to step around the fish, and then stops and stands back. "I will climb right on after you have eaten," she insists politely.
Grandfather looks at an odd fish that swims by, its stomach bulging, but he doesn't paw at it.
"Very well," he says, and eats his fish, offering a small one to Hannah.
When he is done, and has done what is needful with the remains, he comes over to Hannah, and says "Climb on, child."
Hannah does as she's told, careful not to prod too hard with her boots. She settles herself and gives him a big hug. Then she finds a roll around his neck and gets a hold with her hands. "So tell me, grandfather, what I need to know. If it can not be easier, perhaps I can at least keep to simple."
"We go swimming," declares Grandfather Bear, who begins to wade into the river. As the water reaches up his legs, he turns to Hannah. "You asked me how you would fix your Uncle's legs, and I told you. What you did not ask me was how would someone else fix your Uncle's legs. Look outside yourself for ways, Enana."
She sighs. "Guilty. I will try that. Perhaps I can even get said Uncle to participate in finding out how others might do it, so he can agree." Hannah reaches a hand down to run it in the water. "I have been all out of balance."
The bear pads deeper in. He could swim from here, but seems to be content to enjoy the passing water. "Yes. Many things could be done, all are their own balancing acts. It is difficult to help others fix themselves when you are off balance. What are you doing about that? Should I expect strangers and girl-children as when your father lived here the last time?"
Hannah laughs herself silly. When she can take a proper breathe again, she says, "Anything is possible, when one does not try to change what is probable. There is a stranger here. But he will go soon, as will my father and I, I hope."
"Girl-children," she chuckles, but then realizes, "Hey, wait. Did my father have more than one girl-child here?"
The great bear laughs. "It was often hard to tell. You always have asked enough questions for an entire litter of cubs." He pauses, then turns serious. "There were no more like you. Your kind are heavy on the land, moreso even than the Omaha. I would have noticed another like you."
"I do not like to be heavy on the land," she says sadly, and lays a cheek against his fur. "Has my father been around a very long time?"
"It is the nature of your people. You can no more help it than I can help eating fish or walking on grass.'" He swims across to the other side and begins walking in the water up towards the falls. "Your father has not been here forever, because he was not made like we were. Ask the Corby of him; he might know more. They are tied."
"Is he a raven, really?" she whispers. Then she sighs. "I cannot stay and hunt this down. I have to get back to the big tree on the other side of the river - by the bend. There is a ceremony my mother's people are having that I should be at. A memorial for a cousin."
Grandfather heads for the shore, "You think too much of the future, and not enough of the now. But that is the way of your peoples. Both of them."
"Not all of us can be bears, you know. So are you going to give me a ride to the tree and impress my new friend?" she laughs, making no move to get off.
"I shall. We shall see what he is made of." The great bear's laugh shakes his entire frame, as he ambles out of the water.
"We need to go get my father moving first, and see if my clansman is coming or cowering. You know where the hut is, yes?" she asks.
Grandfather Bear knows where the hut is, and soon enough Hannah has arrived to find her father and Arthur Elm waiting. They are supposed to meet Edan at the tree. Her father will come with her and Elm has no intention of being left alone in this realm, so he's coming with as well.
Together, they will all go down to the tree.
Paige crests the rise, leading her horse toward the cliff's edge, hoping the Children will appreciate the view as much as she always does. "This is Xanadu, King Random's new creation, and our new beginning. Once we arrive, I'll introduce you to the mayor and we can find you all a place."
[BTW, while I understand that Lalal is always with them, is she with them?]
[You think you see glimpses of her throughout the trek, but unless you seek her out with the priestesses, not in any way you can chat with.]
The people stand with her on the cliff's edge, looking down from the forest verge over the caves to the beach and the sea. The city is growing, but still quite incomplete and the palace, flying the ruby unicorn flag, is magnificent. The waterfall is a ribbon of silver, and cannot be heard from this distance.
"Lady, we are glad you brought us here, but we are a forest people. We were told we would be here." The speaker is a woman, not a priestess, but clearly of some social standing. She looks to be one of those women who barely age between 25 and 55, but she speaks with some confidence.
Paige replies smoothly, "Those that take service with the King's Rangers will live where they work.
"As to what other woods are available for settlers, you can speak with the King's man in town." She indicates where she last saw Lord Ash.
The woman looks down at the town in the same way Robin looks at the Castle. "We will stay here. It is close enough. Send the Man to us."
The body language of the people indicates that they agree with her.
Paige nods, drawing her Trump deck from her saddlebags, a pleasant expression on her face even as she silently curses herself. Shuffling out her Father's card, she concentrates on his warm eyes.
Bleys' eyes smile his genuine smile, and his smiling face follows. "Paige. Are you in Xanadu already?"
Paige smiles at her father, "Broceliande at least. The passage was uneventful, almost enough to make one worry, if they're inclined to do such a thing.
"Lalal's Children of the Moon and I are atop the cliff. I've explained that there will be no settlement within the wood, save those that serve in the Rangers. As such, they would like to speak with someone from the City as to other options. Are you aware if the Lord Mayor still serving in that role?" she asks, stepping a few paces from the refugees.
"Ash? Yes." Bleys nods. " He was up here yesterday, but I haven't seen him today. He usually disappears into Random's confidence with Soren when he climbs the cliff. If you need a suitably impressive official to snow the rubes, I can certainly come through."
Paige extends a hand, chuckling, "I warn you though, I told them that I was looking for a King's man."
Bleys steps through with a cheery smile of his own. "To the extent that I'm not, they'll never know the difference."
His daughter nods, and taking the lead turns back toward the Children.
"This is Prince Bleys, brother to King Random," she introduces.
Bleys grins and says to Paige, "well chosen spot." He bounds upon three rocks arranged in a stair at the edge of the cliff. He turns towards the Children and bows. "Well met, oh Children of the Moon. The King bids me bid you welcome in his name. Our lands are new, and they are raw and rich, and none who sets his mind to prospering will fail."
He gestures towards the city. "Who speaks for you? I would have words with your leaders."
The High Priestess steps forward, although for a moment Paige things the woman who spoke to her earlier was about to.
Bleys leans in towards Paige. "See if you can find Lalal. I'll butter up old hatchetface, here."
Paige nods, "Watch the other one. She's got an attitude."
Bleys smiles at the older woman. "Come, let us discuss your needs and ours." He leads her quickly away.
Paige steps towards the group of people, reasoning that her cousin is with her people. She whispers with the slight breeze atop the cliff, calling gently, "Lalal, cousin, we have arrived. I would speak with you, for your Children's sake."
Paige feels a breeze on her face, coming from the woods to the west.
She thinks that it's more subtle than a windstorm and turns to find her cousin at a brisk walk.
"Why not show yourself among your Children," the redhead asks the zephyr as she gains some distance from the refugees.
The wind sounds like laughter, and as Paige reaches a brook, she sees Lalal sitting on a tree branch. The tree is tall, but not like those deep in the forest. "My people need separation from their Goddess. They need to be able to be virtuous or sin as they please. People die inside if they are not given a free choice to serve or reject."
She looks down at her cousin. "Did your parents not teach you this about being a Goddess?"
Paige sits back on the grass beneath the tree and looks up at her cousin. "My mother was mortal and knew nothing of gods and goddesses, and in the end little enough of me.
"My father and his siblings? Well of the many things in which he instructed me, godding was not one." She runs a hand through her short locks, smiling. "I believe our grandfather discouraged it."
She nods, sadly, and the breeze grows warmer. "I knew of that. My sister spoke of it, because it affected her son. He never understood why it was discouraged, when it was just who he was-- we are not suited to your rules and rigidities."
Paige nods. "I fear several of of us raised with such strictures are not suited either, but it begs the eternal environment versus heredity question," she muses. "If such had been imposed on you in your formative years, would you be as trapped by them as... well, as I am?"
She shrugs her shoulders, indicating no need for an answer, but obviously won't stop her cousin, either.
"My father is speaking to your people about settlement options, but I am sure you are aware of that," the warden begins. "As of this moment, only my Rangers will reside within Broceliande, and I fear your Children have no desire to serve nor reside in the growing city."
Lalal looks down, contemplating Paige for a long moment. "This is true. Will your soldiers hunt them if they try to live in the forest?"
"I am the King's servant," she responds plainly. "One of the conditions of their rescue was swearing the King's allegiance, and it is by his command that Broceliande's environs remain unpopulated." Her eyes are full of compassion for Lalal, genuinely touched by her concern for the Children.
She stands on her branch. "We were at home in a place not of Arden but in Arden. Can we not find similar Arcadian Groves for my children?"
Paige nods, "Perhaps such is the ideal, until then there will be some temporary arrangement made."
She looks back toward the cliff. "I'm sure my father will have some options."
Lalal looks in the same direction, as if listening to distant conversations. "Yes, very persuasive. My sisters and I have never cared much for time. Seasons are cyclic, not progressive. I would prefer to find solutions in the way things have been done in the past."
"Of course," Paige agrees. "Those that ignore the past are doomed to repeat it, or so they say.
"But using past solutions. It mires us in time, does it not?" she muses. "I would learn from the past solutions and problems and forge something better. Wouldn't you?
"Isn't your very being here in Random's new seat of Order something of a new future for you? Nothing cyclical about the destruction of Amber, to my knowledge of history." The redhead watches her cousin's reaction carefully.
"In the forest, a sapling or a yearling roe experience the change of seasons and the cycle they are born to, as surely as they are new things, they fit old, old patterns. It is a different valley, but the herd still eats, watches, and mates as they did in years past." She looks up and her voice becomes more tense. "My sister," she doesn't explain, and stands on the tree, looking for all the world as if she is about to leap down.
"Then we shall trust the old patterns to provide the answer, if it meets the King's will," Paige answers, rising to her feet smoothly.
She scans the distance. "I have a brother to call forth, but if Adonis's mother or another of your sisters have need of me..."
There is a rustle in the leaves and when she looks up, Lalal is gone.
Paige shakes her head at Lalal's disappearance before removing her Trumps. Edan's face on the pasteboard makes her smile a long second before she wills his image to life.
She is standing within a magical wood, before a large bole, her cropped red hair tossled by a breeze.
Paige stares at the card, willing the redhead into presence.
Edan comes into focus. Wherever he's standing, it's nighttime, and he's managed to get some rest and is wearing fresh clothing. He looks chipper, almost. Behind him is a tremendous tree that is glowing with a dark crackling green energy. "Ah, Paige," he says. "I like the look. I was hoping you'd call a little later, though."
"Well, the funeral hasn't started, but I've arrived here in Broceliande. Father's being diplomatic with our cousin's refugees near the cliff," she answers, rubbing the nape of her neck self-consciously. The sunlight dapples through the greenery above her as she considers. "I suppose I can try you again later, but I have no idea how much more time it would afford you."
Edan smiles and shrugs. "It is night-time here, and more than halfway to the dawn. I think time runs almost twice as fast here than there. But I do not ask just for myself, my sister. I have run into one of our cousins, and she asked to, ah, hitch a ride, as it were. Perhaps we could talk a little while; I expect her to come with the dawn." He looks like he's about to say something else, but stops.
"You're just like Father, to be off meeting women when you should be paying attention to me," Paige chuckles.
"Which of our cousins did you run into?"
Edan barely hesitates. "Hannah is her name," he says. "She asked to come along, and bring one or two others. Will that be possible?"
"Of course," Paige answers. "Hannah led my spiritwalk when I lost the Trump of Random to Broceliande. She's a wonderful sort and was working on helping Uncle Gerard last I heard."
She considers for a moment, "One or two others? Cousins or mortals?"
"Mortals, I think." Edan rubs the back of his head. "Not Family, for certain. And I understand that they're not spirits. I'm either fully in the spirit realm, or as close as you can get to it. Would that be a problem?" He smiles. "And your trip, how did it go?"
"Well enough, one supposes. Nothing of note other than my new charges dismay at the possibility of urban resettlement when they arrived. My hands are tied at the moment, as until I've established some... well... not order... nor Order... but safeguards in my enchanted wood." Paige sighs. "It's Random's order, and our cousin Lalal seems to believe they'll resist."
"It is a thing that has disturbed me somewhat, following this tale," Edan says. "You have assumed control, but not full control, of the forests around Xanadu, and now you are approached by people and goddesses of Arcadia. You give them a home, and they are not satisfied, though I suppose no one likes to be unpleasantly surprised. Won't taking in this Lalal bring the troubles of Arcadia to your door? Will not others follow, to take the battle to these settlers? Or are these people a safeguard against another Arcadian faction you wish to keep away?"
"I've been given leave to extend the King's generousity to all those that would swear his allegiance," Paige dodges. "Even Adonis's children.
"It's going to make assuming any more control a focus of my near future."
Edan and Paige continue to discuss various things for a time and soon enough Hannah and her father (and Arthur Elm) arrive, accompanied by a great bear. It bids Hannah and her father goodbye--and Elm, for all that he seems in awe of it, if not terrified--and together they all pass through the trump transit into Broceliande.
Bleys is nearby and will trump those who wish to go into the castle on Fiona's card.
Edan actually gives Paige an awkward embrace (probably the least graceful thing anyone's seen him do to date) and promises to see her at the funeral if not before. He hangs back a little, planning to have at least a few moments alone with his father, then realizes Bleys won't likely leave his Arcadian charge any time soon- so there will be at least one witness to everything they do or say. He mentally shrugs as he moves up with the others to take the Trump back to Xanadu.
Hannah will introduce her father and Elm to Paige and then Bleys, happy for a shortcut to the castle. She explains, briefly, the trumps to Elm, having the example of Edan's tree to work from. She expects her father knows about them already.
Then she will go hunting down Gilt, to see if he can't tell her where the King is.
Gilt is easy to find, and he does know where the King is. The King is on the plaza outside the castle.
Hannah wants to introduce her maybe-father and Elm to Random, and ask Random if he can tell if this is really her father. She's right open about this in front of Iron Eye - she expects him to get it. Not that she's gonna stop giving him his proper respect if he's not. She just thinks this might be important. Also, she was just curious if there would be an eclipse or something if two young (but not) drummer punks came together.
Iron Eye is amused by the question. Random says he can't but he can tell that he's family, so Hannah should hang on to him.
Later Random talks to Hannah privately. Iron Eyes is not the kind of family who can walk the pattern, so she shouldn't do anything rash.
Random is interested in Iron Eye's drumming, and they talk at length about it. Random offers to let him build a drum studio in Xanadu City.
In the whirlwind of activity, Fiona summons food and drink (non-alcoholic) for Edan, which conveniently arrives at about the moment when everyone else has dispersed.
Fiona's quarters are sparsely-decorated by the standards of Amber, but this new place seems to have fewer of the accretions of time on it yet. In the center of her receiving room, there is a low table with comfortable soft chairs around it. Fiona shows Edan where he may wash the dust of the road from his hands, if nothing else, and seats herself to wait for him.
[The bathroom is modern Ikea.]
When he returns, she gestures to him to join her and eat.
Edan bows before seating himself, touching his fingertips to his forehead. He lets Kyauta perch on the back of his chair before he takes a plate. "You honor me, my aunt, to take time from your busy day to receive me so. I am humbled."
"There is no work so important as one's family; it is my pleasure to speak with the son of my brother. I am only sorry that Bleys' duties with your sister prevent him from joining us." Although she speaks Thari, Fiona's rhythms have adapted to the forms of the Land of Peace, as if in response to Edan's manner of speaking.
"And perhaps when you have finished, we can speak of family matters, and you can tell me of your travels. Much has passed in Amber and Xanadu since last we spoke. You have heard about Cambina? And Lucas?"
"Cambina, yes. Lucas?" Edan frowns. "You speak of them together. Lucas is dead?" After a moment, he shakes his head. "I never met him. Cambina, either, but I have read her histories. I cannot say that I am greatly grieved, but that is only because I have not had the chance to meet them. This news is very troubling... what happened?"
"Cambina fell from Tir. Lucas made a secret trump of the Queen of Rebma, and she slew him for his impudence by means of her mirrors." Fiona pauses to let Edan absorb that shock.
After a moment, she continues: "This touches on many pieces of the family history: the civil unrest in Rebma, now turned to war, which touches on Huon's ill-starred pursuit of your father's head, and also on the secret making of trumps, which is a thing forbidden because of the transgressions of your uncle Brand." The last phrase carries a heavy emphasis, as if it is meant as a warning for Edan.
Edan's quest for food slows, stops. For a moment, his eyes meet Fiona's over the table, before he looks down and turns his attention back to his plate. "Brand did many things," he says slowly, "of which I am either incapable, or unwilling. Trumps, for example; I do not have them, cannot make them. I rely on Sorcery and Pattern." He gives a tentative smile. "That actually is part of my story, since I left you."
Fiona nods. "Brand was brilliant. He had many gifts that are not well understood, even now. Those of us who were close kin to him will lie under the shadow of his deeds for centuries."
That seems to be all she has to say on that subject, for she turns to a new one. "But you have travelled far since last we spoke. Pray speak of it, and I shall listen."
Edan closes his eyes and makes a slow bow of his head in acquiescence. He doesn't bother to check Fiona's wards with his Third Eye when he sits back. "After I left you and Brennan, I saddled my horse and travelled by land through Shadow," he says. "I preferred drier climes, and as such I happened upon the Race to Madness, near Ygg. I entered the race, originally thinking it would aid my journey across to Chaos, but as it happened I decided to finish the race and won it. Along the way, I encountered Chases-in-Madness, daughter of the High Marshall of Ghenesh. Apparently, Count Madoc sponsors a race on the other side of the Tree at the same time." Edan indicates Kyauta. "My affine, here, was my token of Chaos to complete my race.
"Afterwards, Martin and Lilly came through the shadow. I found out later their reason- to rescue Meg. We parted ways, and I went on to Clarissa. She offered to send agents on my behalf to answer my other quest, to answer my theory that paths were being laid in Chaos by Hob. While there, she offered to teach me a little advanced Sorcery with Ambrose, which I accepted. We went to Uxmal-" Edan pauses here, then continues, "but Ambrose had left ahead of his sister Chantico's army, taking his people with him. We looked for clues as to his wherabouts in the pyramid, but were caught in some traps Ambrose left behind. I became angry at being trapped, and freed us by exploding a significant fraction of the pyramid and destroying the jungle for miles around."
Edan smiles, mirthlessly, more a showing of teeth. "Lilly found us there in the ruins. Her negotiations with Madoc did not go well, and he transported her- across Ygg, I might add- to Uxmal. We all went onward to find Ambrose. Clarissa was caught in another spacial trap, and lost a couple of fingers." He produces a small box and places it on the edge of the table, far away from the food. "I preserved them in a folding of Time- please return them to her, as you will no doubt see her before I do. Lilly and I found Ambrose, his defenders, and his people about to be wiped out by Chantico, her army, and seven gods of Uxmal. We rode to his aid, controlling the minds of nearby warriors as we advanced to the generals.
"Chantico slept most of the humans, the gods moved to the air after I challenged them, and Chatico and Lilly agreed to a contest of swords. No magic. Lilly found out too late that Chantico was only partially there, using ensorcelled armor to animate. Lilly was injured, and Ambrose protected us while I first yanked Chantico and the gods more fully into the Shadow, then exploded them with a massive sodium fire. Afterwards, I rested in a place of spirits and let Kyauta feed, where I met cousin Hannah, then Paige Trumped us here." He pauses. "There is more in the details, but that is the gist of it."
Fiona takes the box, her lips pursing in a way that suggests displeasure. She does not open it before setting it aside on her end of the table. "Mother will be pleased that you thought to return them. Normally she is not so careless."
"They could also be tracked," Edan says, looking a little more relieved. "I do not think that was her intention at the time, but there you are. It is the reason I froze them in time- Grandmother has already amply demonstrated that chaos theory overcomes mathematically-based ciphers and subterfuge screens, as well you know. Sharkovskii would be so proud to know he was right."
"You will need to speak to Brennan about the pyramid, of course. Uxmal is in his orbit. He is already aware of Chantico's transgressions; Lilly is within the castle recovering from her wounds. Ambrose has not yet brought his people to Xanadu. My understanding is that he's still in transit with them."
Fiona holds out her hand, palm upward, and gestures to Kyauta to approach.
My lord, will it eat me?
Edan physically shakes his head. No, that would be rude. And my aunt is anything but rude in polite company. She just wants a look at you. A pause. Though it might feel a little uncomfortable. Please bear with any discomfort, it would not last. I am here. To Fiona, he says, "Brennan, yes. I will go to Paris, and try to see him there. Out of respect, I would hesitate to broach the subject so close to Cambina's funeral."
Whatever metaphysical examination Fiona is giving Kyauta doesn't distract from her ability to converse in the slightest. She seems to be fully attentive to Edan even as Kyauta, with some trepidation, slinks over toward her.
"Brennan is not particularly attached to Uxmal, so I doubt you will upset him further. Most of it he has heard from Ambrose already, so your report will only be a courtesy."
She strokes the quivering dragonet with a surprisingly long, elegant finger.
"But of course waiting until after the funerals would be courteous."
Edan nods agreement, keeping his attention on the exam. He opens his Third Eye to see what she's doing. "Anything... interesting about Kyauta? I determined early on that he... er, it... wasn't being tracked, but not much beyond that."
[Is Fiona actually using Sorcery, as far as he can tell?]
[He can't see any active spells. She's probably looking at it with her Third Eye. When you have a few centuries of experience with it, you can probably get a lot just by looking.]
"Has your father examined it?" Fiona asks. "There are no obvious spelltraps, nor do I see any obvious signs of Gheneshi work. Moonrider magic is quite distinctive once you know what you're looking for."
Kyauta isn't saying anything, nor does Fiona appear to be doing anything to him, but he's quailing away from Fiona as if she were a very large, very hungry predator.
Peace. Edan reaches out to touch the spot in between the wings on Kyauta's back; he takes a calming breath to center himself, knowing that the affine would feel it too.
To Fiona, he says, "Father knows of it, when I spoke to him by Trump, but he has not yet seen it. Not knowing how most of the family will react, I intend to keep Kyauta... obfuscated." He smiles, a little. "What struck me about the whole scene was the timing. Kyauta might have been just that, a gift. But to meet the daughter of the Marshall, just then? And for her to have just the right token at the right time? And not let it affinate to her already? No, that gift was meant for me. She has seen me before. Were I to guess, I would say that she saw me when I walked Tir's Pattern." He looks away, suddenly. "I was... vulnerable, then."
Fiona picks out the easiest part of that to answer first. "My standard advice to my children and their cousins is not to conceal one's powers from the family, even if one does not detail their full extent. Affines are in somewhat bad odor right now after the Aisling business, and the business with Marius that followed, but you're more likely to be suspected for concealing an affine than for admitting to the act of affination."
Edan nods assent to this.
"And it's certainly true that the Marshall has a grudge against your father. But I don't see anything that leads me to believe you were, as they say, 'set up'."
"I was hoping that, but not suprised, either. No, what worries me is that she knew who I was, where I came from, and how I got there. I took extra steps to mask my, er, footprint, afterward."
Fiona doesn't sound particularly concerned. "Some of the Moonriders have a gift of foresight. Part of what they did to themselves unstuck some of them in time a little."
Edan looks like he very much wants to ask a question, but juggles it with one from the new subject; the second one wins. "Chases-in-Madness felt that a confrontation was inevitable, that the only way to avoid bloodshed was for us to step aside when the Moonriders returned. I explained to her that this was as unlikely as her father changing his mind. I have heard of the rescue of Queen Vialle, and of the existence of another Queen. I do not understand their motivations. I do not see what they see. What are the Ghenshi trying to do? Is their Queen cut off from Tir-na Nog'th? Are they trying to restore her to power? Aren't they wasting their time, trying to go through Amber?"
"No one sees what they see. We know they want to restore Tir to what it was. And before you ask the obvious next question, Tir has been the way it is since before I was born, so I don't know for all that I might speculate. It has something to do with the Queen of Air and Darkness, their Queen, the Queen of Tir, and it may have to do with your uncle Brand's research into Tir and what he thought was a flaw in the Pattern--the one on True Kolvir, not the one in Amber, and many other things."
Fiona sits back in her chair slightly and continues, "For now, they're wasting their time trying to go through Amber. But at some point they'll realize where the new stair to Tir is, and come to Xanadu. Benedict and Corwin feel it would be bad if they had free access to Tir, and I don't know why Random would feel any differently even if it weren't for the history and the complications of defending Xanadu with mounted cavalry marching through." She leaves the corollaries unstated.
Edan pauses significantly before continuing. "I have heard that Benedict stated that the Moonriders were not welcome to Amber. And, by extension I suppose, Xanadu. Would that apply to... all of them?"
"I'm not the right person to ask that question, Edan. But I wouldn't bring a Moonrider, no matter how much I trusted them, to any of the cities without clearing it first. To do so and be wrong would be at best an act of disrespect; at worst, treason and exile." Somewhere in the discussion, the familiar rhythms of the Land of Peace have slipped from Fiona's voice. Her Thari now is more stark, more Amber-like. "We've had enough of that already this year."
Edan's jaw drops. "Ah... this one, I have not heard. Treason? Exile?"
Fiona settles in her chair slightly; this must be a long telling.
"When Cambina fell from Tir, her body was recovered and brought back to Xanadu," she explains. "It seems that Vere, Gerard's son, has some power of speaking to the dead. Queen Vialle was missing and it was thought Cambina might have been with her. So Gerard's daughter Solange, who knew about her brother's gift, proposed to take the body to where Vere was in Shadow so that they could speak to her and locate Vialle. Gerard, who was serving as Regent while Random was abroad looking for Vialle, and Corwin, who was present in Xanadu, both forbade it. So Solange took Cambina's corpse to Vere in secret." Fiona pauses here, well aware that this statement is likely to elicit some reaction from her nephew.
Edan distantly hears his jaw click shut. "And it didn't work, or it wouldn't be called treason and exile," he says. "I think I would be... angry." He frowns suddenly. "Are they both banished, then? Those personally affronted, have they said anything publicly?"
"Gerard still held the Regency when the truth of Solange's action came out, Vere has repented his treason. He hadn't spoken with his father before it happened and when Gerard recalled him to his oath, he surrendered Cambina's body. Solange is banished until the King's pleasure, which seems to hinge on Solange making peace with those who are, as you say, personally affronted. Those would be Corwin, whom she defied in person; Cambina's brother Jerod; and your cousin Brennan, who was her lover. There's been no public statement, but there won't be until the family meets, which will happen after Lucas' funeral. But I understand Vere is expected at the funerals and Solange ... is not," Fiona says delicately.
After giving Edan another moment to absorb that, she adds, "It would still have been treason to directly defy the Regent, who stands in the King's stead. Success would have mitigated the punishment, but success only ever mitigates. It doesn't erase whatever harsh words are spoken, nor the actions taken. Your uncles' memories are long, Edan, and their hatreds are deep. Don't trifle lightly with the Moonriders and the ancient grudges this family bears toward them, lest you fall in."
"All right," Edan says. "I am convinced. I just thought... I asked Chases-in-Madness whether there could be another way to peace. I thought she might be open to talk. At least, I got that impression. Any discussion we had would have to be far away from here, that's all." He pauses. "I am too new of a nephew, here. Beginnings are delicate times. I would think hard before I created too much of a disturbance. Father is the only one I know well, and he will not be too pleased with me as it is."
Fiona nods to the comment about discussions being far away from Amber and Xanadu. "Speak to the King about it. It will cover your bases if the offer is genuine, not that I say it isn't. As for Bleys," and here Fiona gives a sigh that reminds Edan that his father is, in fact, Fiona's younger brother, "he's overly attached to his Altamareans. But his concern about the Moonriders would be real even so."
"That," Edan says, "is another avenue I need to pursue. Delve into the history of the Altamareans, find the songs that cover the split with the Gheneshi, learn about them and the Queen of Air and Darkness. No matter how long it takes them to sing it. But, that is not the reason Father will be displeased." He falls silent again. "It is one thing to gain knowledge over time. It is another to ride along a voyage of quick discovery, a high curve of learning. No. More like a bubble of learning, one that expands and you don't know when or where it will break. I feel as if I am on such a bubble, and some of the things I have learned have fundamentally altered who I am, how I think, how I perceive the world around me. I question my abilities, my choices, my... limits."
Green, catlike eyes narrow slightly at Edan's last word. "The last five years have been a time of sudden learning for all of us." For someone with the long lifespan Fiona has already enjoyed, perhaps five years is a short time. "Some of us have profited from it; others have perished. Limits can be questioned, and their extents redefined, but we ignore them at our peril."
Rather than look alarmed, Edan looks almost pleased. "I hope that I may always be welcome to discuss the subject of limits with you, my aunt," he says. "There have already been those who have counselled me that there are no limits, only degrees of difficulty. And that it is folly to take on the limits of Shadow."
If Fiona were of the afriti blood, Edan suspects something in the room might be bursting into flame. He can imagine that she, of all people, can imagine who might have given him such advice. "There may come a time when you wish for less of my advice rather than more, Edan, but I shall share such advice as you ask for, or which you seem to be in need of."
"I would always be happy to hear advice from you," Edan says automatically. He settles back in his seat. "And one other subject, besides ethics, springs to my mind. Something that I have discovered for myself, of myself. Something that you may already have explored. Are you well-acquanted with the afriti of the Land of Peace? Have you seen their magics, their localized Parting of the Veil?"
"I am not particularly familiar with them," Fiona allows. "Bleys has mentioned them, but I haven't seen them for myself. I am familiar with a variety of elementally inflected sorceries, however."
"There is a thing that the afriti can do," Edan says. "They... walk through... pass through... flame. It is like Parting the Veil, except that it is... local. They can create fire around themselves, and step through to, say, a fireplace many miles distant. It is a function of their... our... makeup, our bodies. If they had visited a place, if they know the destination, it is nothing to go from one place to another. None had ever walked the Pattern, so the phenomenon was limited to one Shadow. Now... one has."
"It's an interesting variation, although subject to the same hazards both to the traveller and to Order that Parting the Veil itself is. I assume Bleys has discussed that with you." It's not a question, as Fiona leaves no room for Edan to answer it. "If you require a fire at the far end of the transit, that compounds the risk, but an initiate should be able to manipulate the probabilities to ensure the necessary events occur."
The entire discussion is an academic problem to Fiona. Her expression shows little concern in mentioning the risks.
Edan nods along. "That, and I am building a network, of sorts," he says. "It would need maintenance, over time, but takes much of the effort out of the transit itself. And much of the worry. If you are ameable, I can let you know how it is going, and, how does Father put it, 'pick your brain' if I hit a snag."
"You are welcome to 'pick my brain'." The Bleysian phrasing, or perhaps the informality coming out of Edan's mouth, seems to amuse Fiona; the corners of her mouth quirk up slightly. "My advice may change if I understand what you are building. A transit network for yourself is one thing; a transit network you expect others to use, another; and an exercise to see whether it can be done, still a third. Have you decided which this project is?"
Edan nods and spreads his hands. "Mostly the first, and a little of the third. One of the examples of pushing my limits, you understand. But mostly, it is for me. I have no Trumps, and it is the best alternative that I can imagine. I am taking advantage of the... what is the word... utility? of sorcery. How it can be used to mimic other Powers. Like using a spell to make a pseudo-Trump reading, as I did before I came here. If I am successful, I think that I would be the only one that could use such a network. Fire magicians, and creatures of power, they could not use it to jump to another Shadow. Sorcerors would find it easier to simply Part the Veil than use my complex system. I installed a Guardian at my first Gate to prevent tampering, and have learned much already about the balance of size versus duration versus effect." He leans forward a little. "Once I have a few strong connections made, I could show you, if you would like to see it. Understand... it's not just about curiosity. If I get caught in one and need help, it will be one place you and Father will know to, ah, look."
"Oh, yes, I'll want to look at it. I can see the utility of it, if you mean to travel between certain places regularly. Less draining than Parting the Veil and less difficult to create than a permanent Shadow path that anyone can use. As the network becomes more complex, though, the difficulty will increase... there will come a point when it's easier to hellride, I think." Fiona looks off into space, as if doing some mathematics in her head. "You could work out the equivalent equations, I think, but paradox means that it's always an estimate."
She frowns again. "Why do you want to duplicate the power of Trump for a reading? You could ask Random for a full deck. And even without the Trumps proper, you can read with the remainder of the cards."
"I might have if I was here, but I was... away, and I felt the need," Edan says, with the tone inflections that indicate a longer telling is to follow. He smiles to himself, realizing that his grammar and pronouns have moved from 'polite formal' to 'family intimate' in just a short telling, such is the ease that Fiona has instilled in him at this meeting. He can't help but glance at the bottom of his cup before deciding that his aunt simply is very good at the proper forms and social niceties when she wants to do so. A different form of magic entirely.
"Father was clever," he begins. "Yes. Father was clever, leaving me in the Dar-es Salaam. He gave me enough room to develop on my own, yet he knew that the rigidity of the mores and culture would keep a control on me. Rather too much, really, for when he tried to dispel my beliefs, I was not agreeable. You know the way of it... after twenty years of preparation and the advanced Pattern mathematics, there came a time when he could not teach me further. Diminishing returns. I had to go on and derive my own Pattern equations, solve my own proofs, with a nudge here and there from him. I am still doing so." He looks down at his hands. "And yet, there was always room for a proof of God. God could still be found in the variability of the mathematics. Despite Father's insistence on his version of history, I had... faith.
"And then I visited Clarissa, who dispelled that final uncertainty. From the beginning, she explained God was of Shadow, and I had been restricting my actions and my ethics and my mores all this time. Everything unraveled, oh so quickly. Father was right all along. Dworkin was the Creator, and Time and Space existed long before him. The variability I was hoping for was merely the paradox of Chaos in the system. I had to come to grips with Reality. I am here because a wild rebel Lord of Chaos lay with a unicorn and then drew his creative madness upon the ground. The universe as I know it is held together by a wild drummer and a brooding composer. And all the self-sacrifice and self-control I had, all the rules I had been following, they didn't matter any more. I was greater than God." He looks back up to Fiona. "As I told your mother, I do not deserve to be God. I am both lesser and greater, and there we were. Clarissa was... not encouraging of my talk of limits and morality. It was all... too fast. That learning curve I mentioned. In a fit of anger, I blew apart the Magician's Pyramid in Uxmal, undid centuries of Brand's work. In an attempt to help Ambrose, I laid waste to an entire battlefield, rained fire and burning metal down from the skies. It was too much. I moved away then, after seeing to Lilly. I was beginning to wonder if everything I touched would be destroyed. I had to get away to rest, to think. It was during that time that I sought to look outside Time, to see my fortune with Sorcery as the Family does the cards. I did not have Trumps, but when there is fire my Sorcery is strong, very strong. I used it as best I could."
Fiona listens carefully to Edan's tale, nodding at various points, and narrowing her eyes when her mother's name is mentioned. At the end, she murmurs, "You need cards of your own." Then she moves to refill his cup, either noticing his need or spending the time involved in refreshing his drink to consider her answer to his story.
"Mother has her own agenda. Her motives are to be distrusted even if her facts are not. Let us say for the sake of argument that there is no God." There's a brief pause there, long enough for Edan to complete the rest of the statement of faith as he learned it as a youth. "But if you are a god, how and why does that make you less subject to the constraints of morality?"
"There is morality of the Land of Peace, and then there is morality of House Barimen," Edan says, hoping he's answering what Fiona is asking. "The Merciful One is strict in his teachings. Rewards and punishments are well-laid out and understood. There is a heaven and a hell. There is an afterlife. If the Merciful One was, as I believed, everywhere, his teachings would apply everywhere. But a God of Shadow... then what are the rules? What is morality? Are morality and ethics not colored by the setting, the Shadow, the people therein? Don't many of the Family consider the Shadows to be their plaything? Morality is suddenly no longer the rules of the Land of Peace. They are the rules set down by Dworkin in his creation, Oberon in his edicts and laws, tempered by the centuries of interaction amongst ourselves. And Dworkin himself comes from the model of total dominance and submission in Chaos. There is still morality. But we are the ones who tell each other what is right and what is wrong... and so many of the Family do not care to have rules dictated to them. Is is all both easier and harder to navigate."
Fiona slowly nods her agreement with Edan's last sentence. "We have learned that our laws, like our flaws, lie not in our stars, but in ourselves. For some of us this is a greater constraint than any rede we learned as children; for others, it is no constraint at all. When you walked the Pattern, you became a man in the eyes of your family. But achieving the rights and responsibilities of manhood doesn't bring you the wisdom that you need to live as man instead of a boy.
"Mother is right that you've transcended the laws of the Land of Peace. The gates of the afriti that you're making across shadow boundaries are proof of that, more than any question of morals. But--" Fiona raises her hand, palm upward, a delicate finger outstretched but not so rude as to point at him "--that does not mean there are no rules at all. Wisdom will be in finding those rules for yourself.
"How do you mean to seek that wisdom, nephew?"
Edan smiles, a little. "A man named Kant once said, 'Science is organized knowledge. Wisdom is organized life'. I must have the intelligence to question everything, have the courage to make the mistakes when I act upon those questions, have the humility to recognize those mistakes and learn from them. Wisdom is the ability to remember those mistakes and avoid doing them again."
"So you have recognized your mistakes, and you have learned from them?" Fiona's green eyes rest on Edan's face.
My lord, Kyauta, who has been dozing on the arm of Edan's chair while he speaks with Fiona, pipes up. The other Lord is looking at me again.
Edan decides not to take anything for granted. Which Lord, Kyauta? The one here, right in front of us?
"There is another step to the process, responsibility," Edan says while this is going on. "Dealing with the consequences of my mistakes, at least the ones I recognize. There is a thing that still needs to be done, and I anticipated that I might need Father to assist. He would be the most familiar with my... physiology."
Yes, my Lord.
Fiona nods slowly. "I am also familiar with a variety of exotic crosses and variants, but I can understand why you might prefer to speak to Bleys."
"Indeed," Edan agrees. Only then does he glance down to Kyauta, then back to meet Fiona's gaze. "And I shall be vigilant in recognizing where I make mistakes. Some things are more... choices. Trade-offs. Where you have to balance what is gained against what is lost." He smiles. "Will you be staying around here long, my aunt? I would love to try a proper message to you via a bird of desire soon."
"I will be in Xanadu for a time. Random has asked my advice on certain matters of metaphysics. If I leave after the funerals, it will be to go abroad to my laboratories to test some sorcerous theories. Your father will be able to find me." Fiona's expression has not shifted. "I'll be interested in seeing your techniques for creating a bird of desire."
"I have been getting a lot of practice in the juggling of probability, lately," Edan says. He touches his fingers to his forehead, adds, "I am most pleased to see you, my aunt. I hope that we can meet again soon. May fortune smile upon your endeavors." He catches himself from saying something about the Merciful One; the effort, once he recognizes it, makes him a little sad.
"And upon yours, until we meet again," Fiona says, making of it a ritual response and a dismissal, so he can rise and depart.
Last modified: 12 June 2010