Swords and Sparring

Signy finds one of the stewards of Random's castle, and inquires to see if Bleys or Fiona is in Xanadu.

The stewards direct Signy to a suite of rooms in on the waterfall side of the castle. The view from the great window at the end of the hall is breathtaking. The door on the left is Bleys. It's wide open and the prince is sitting at a writing desk, penning something. When he sees Signy at the door, he puts some papers in the desk and shuts it.

"Hello, Signy. What brings this familial visit?"

Signy opens her mouth to introduce herself to her uncle, and then closes it with a slightly surprised look. "I'm...ah...yes. I wanted to talk to you on Brennan's recommendation. There were some things that happened during the rescue of the Queen that he thought you should hear, and I had some questions about the swords my father made."

She takes a step or two into the room and towards Bleys before stopping, a slightly uncertain look on her face.

"Come in," he says, gesturing to a seating group by the window. Signy notices the light here is excellent for reading.

"It's been quite a while since I last spoke to your father. He confirmed some things I only suspected about number theory." Bleys leans in towards Signy.

"What happened with the Queen? I've only heard a bit about that."

Signy walks over to the seats and perches on the edge of one, facing Bleys. "Well, we rescued her. Beyond that, I'm not sure."

She takes a breath before continuing. "We left from Benedict's castle, and rode for a bit before we ran into someone named Robin, who called the King 'Brandom' before attempting to kill him with a device. We drove off her and her men, and then came to this large depression. It was filled with dead bodies -- Robin's men, and these things called 'Grackeflints'. The Queen sat on a throne, and this Robin and someone that looked like the King were in chains in front of her, being held by the Marshall. We attacked, the Marshall, Robin, not-Random and the bodies all disappeared, and we were left with the Queen. And a silver chain."

She gives Bleys a quizzical look. "Some people think that all of that is just nonsense and looking for meaning is pointless, but Brennan thought I should talk to you or Fiona about this."

She pauses, and then tilts her head slightly. "And why would the Queen be with these people, and order the death of someone that looked exactly like the King, and then seem to have no memory of any of what went on."

Bleys pulls a cigarette from a silver box and offers one to Signy. "Tir is an odd place, and it's easy to attach too much meaning to what you see up there. Formerly, the only known way to get to Tir was the intermittent stairs in the moonlight of Kolvir, but now, that's not the case. And it never made sense that there was only one way up. The equations don't balance unless the metacyclicals are freely transformable in a ring. I think I may have to visit Benedict's castle soon. It sounds more special than we'd been led to believe.

"As to the Queen, in Tir you can often see people you know, and the odd ways in which they act are the portents and signs that people interpret to mean whatever they hope or fear they'll mean before they head up to it. So imagine the Queen is there, held, unable to see or hear. The image of the Queen does whatever images do, then when the magic is broken, the real queen is there, as if you'd seen her act.

"That's the most likely explanation, I'd expect. I'm not in love with fortune telling. It's been done so poorly by our family in the past." He takes a long drag on his cigarette.

Signy looks at the cigarette, before shaking her head and declining the offer.

After Bleys speaks, Signy is silent, clearly working through the things that Bleys said. "So, first. These equations that you mention. Is all of this, the Pattern and everything, governed by them? And if they are, who can teach me?"

"There are a few of us who could teach you more about reality and how it is calculated. Father offered it to all his children, but few took advantage of it. The benefits of a higher education are many, but finding an agreeable tutor is not always simple.

"We were taught by Dworkin, who is genially insane these days."

She takes a breath, before continuing in a slightly slower pace. "That still leaves open the question of how the Queen got there in the first place -- are abductions like this routine? And even if people attach too much significance to what happens in these sorts of places, it sounds like you think they may be devoid of any significance entirely?"

"So, the Queen was last heard of leaving Xanadu late at night with the Lady Cambina, to investigate the stairs to the Dreaming City above. She didn't return, and Cambina's body washed ashore the next morning. That someone could stay in Tir beyond the setting of the moon is a thing that has not been reported before. What happens in that case is wholly unknown, since the Queen cannot tell us."

Bleys takes a long, slow drag on his cigarette, more for show and to give Signy a chance to respond than for the flavor of it. It hardly smells of tobacco at all.

Signy quickly quashes a hopeful gleam that tries to burst forth from her eyes. "Would you be one of those people?" she inquires.

"As for the Queen, I don't think we were in Tir, exactly. It sounded like we were in something congruous to it, but not it exactly."

"In all the time I've been around Amber, I've never known anyone to have a back door to Tir, so that makes sense. I wonder if it could've been a shadow of it. Moonshadows are not out of the equations, but of a necessity, they haven't been well-explored."

He blows some smoke from his cigarette. It twists and turns upon itself as if building something, then dissipates.

"And I know enough to teach, but I'm not looking for an apprentice right now."

Signy deflates at this. "Is there anyone else?" she asks in a quiet voice.

He nods. "Yes. Your great-grandfather is the most knowledgeable, although he's still mad. It wasn't a popular course of study and of those who were trained in the ways of Kingship, I was the only one who kept at it, although I daresay that Random and Corwin have a journeyman's education in the field by dint of their patterns. Still, one never knows what one can ignore if one diligently sets out to do so.

"My sister is also quite knowledgeable. As is my mother, but you probably don't want that education."

"Your sister Fiona," she asks, not quite managing to hide the uncertainty.

Bleys nods, encouragingly. "I see someone has given you the guided tour of the genealogical rolls."

She gives Bleys a considering look. "Was my mother given to Weyland as a debt for one of these Pattern blades?"

Bleys looks surprised. "Unless I miss my guess, your mother wasn't born when the Pattern Blades were forged, and there'd be no keeping them from their masters. She also," he says, pausing, "seems unlikely to have agreed to any such bargain."

He tilts his head and looks at Signy. "What makes you ask that?"

Signy shakes her head in the negative. "It was an educated guess -- Brennan mentioned you and her as the two to talk to about what happened with the Queen."

She exhales sharply. "My mother left my father when I was very young, and apparently took my brother Marius with her, but not me. It seems there's a lot with my father that I have yet to learn." She looks at Bleys quizzically. "What are these Pattern blades, exactly?"

Bleys opens a wardrobe and takes a highly decorated scabbard from it, he unsheathes a blade from it. "They're tools for reinforcing Order, and a specific vision of Order to boot. They are a particularly shaped reflection of the thing that gives us our power of shadow, and they are damned useful in imposing your will upon others, with caveats." It's one of Weyland's blades, clearly. And if it's balanced the way it looks, the best work of his she has ever seen.

"Werewindle, by name," he say, introducing the weapon to Signy. "Did your father tell you nothing of them?"

Signy starts to raise her hand to touch the blade, before visibly restraining herself and giving Bleys a questioning glance.

"No, he didn't mention anything about them. This is his work, but I've never seen its like in my years working with him at the forges."

"There are, to the best of my knowledge, only two others. It sounds as if your father plans more. I frequently find it disappointing when an artist returns to a completed theme. It's unlikely that they find anything new to say on the topic." He pauses. "Not impossible, of course. And it matters how 'completed' the theme was."

Bleys reverses the blade and hands her the pommel. Even in the low light, Signy can see the burnished blade has the pattern itself inscribed on it. She feels it resonate with the pattern that is in her.

"Yes, you feel it. But it's not quite the same. Werewindle is Amber's blade."

Signy grasps the blade and holds it up, casting an appraising eye over its length. She raps the blade once sharply with a knuckle, feeling the vibrations in the palm of her other hand. Her wrist flexes, allowing the blade to catch the light and briefly illuminate the whorls and ripples of the metal underneath the Pattern tracings, feeling the uncanny lightness of the blade as it glides through the air.

Bleys watches her use the blade, and Signy suspects that he learns quite a bit about her strenghts and skills by doing so.

"How did he capture the Pattern in there like a living thing? Is he part of our family by blood?"

Bleys looks at her like a teacher asked a very clever question by a student. "I can't prove it. But I don't see any other way. I suspect he is the child of some lost brother or sister of your grandfather.

"You may be your own first cousin."

Signy doesn't notice Bleys's expression as she continues her study of Werewindle.

She attempts to reach out to the blade with the Pattern within her, attempting to ping whatever of Order is within the blade and see what resonates back to her. "What is the debt that the King mentioned?" she murmurs, her eyes slightly unfocused as she stares through the blade.

Signy reaches out with her powers, and it's clear the blade is -- something. It's hard to tell here, in Bleys' presence and near an active pattern, but it's not just a sword.

Bleys laughs--an unforced, easy sound like bells ringing. "You don't think a blade like this comes without a price, do you? Ask your father if you want details. Suffice to say I knew there was a price, if not the exact nature of it, when I accepted the honor and burden of this from my father."

Bleys continues to watch her handle the sword. "I've been wondering what it would be like if your father made more of these, now that we have new patterns."

Signy looks up at Bleys at his last question. "If you need a Pattern to have a blade, what happens to the blade for a Pattern that's been...Sundered?" She thinks for a second before continuing. "Do you know how quickly after the existing Patterns were created the swords were made?'

"No, no idea--to either question--at least since I'm not dead, my first order equations were wrong. The three blades predate me. I'd advise against asking Caine, the previous holder of Werewindle."

Signy nods slowly, giving the sword one last, long look before deftly flipping it in her hand and offering the hilt back to Bleys.

"Thank you," she says simply.

Bleys nods, takes the sword and resheaths it. He hangs the hangar over the bedpost.

Signy looks out the window for a moment, before looking back at Bleys. "How well did you know my mother?"

Bleys blinks slowly. "Not as well as Brother Corwin did. I was a younger brother and she had very little time for such. She didn't approve of her father's remarriage."

Signy gives Bleys a considering look. "Did she have any close friends, or allies or servants or anything? Surely she would have known that Weyland is family -- is it usual for our family to have that sort of relationship with one another?"

Bleys steps over to the window and opens it, letting a fresh breeze in. "Hmm. Your mother's associates? Caine, Eric, Corwin. Her friends were few and far between. That lordling she liked, who everyone thought was Marius' father. Boreal, I think. She may have had friends in Rebma. Not a lot of people. She was hardly the type."

Signy stands and inhales the outside air deeply, scrubbing at her face briefly.

"For learning more about the Pattern, what are my options for teaching myself? How are other family members trained?"

Bleys' eyes shine. "Oh, it's possible to train yourself, but unwise. It's a long road, with many possible missteps, and some real dangers. You could be like some of your uncles and not understand for centuries, even if you think you know. I learned from my grandfather, as did my brother and sister. That path is not necessarily available, and in the end Brand was not strong enough to survive what it did to him.

"That kind of training, and I say this so you understand, does not come without a price."

Signy nods, and her voice takes on a coldly calculating tone. "And what would that price be?"

Bleys almost laughs at her demeanor, but doesn't quite. "'From each according to her ability, to each according to her need', as they say. In a sense, the price is what you negotiate it to be with your teacher. In another, the example of my late brother is not without relevance to this conversation. The top going price is your sanity, your life, and your reputation. Try not to pay that much."

Signy gives Bleys an appraising look. "And if, for the sake of arguement, you were to take me on what would your price be?"

Bleys laughs, loud and free. "Oh, are we negotiating now? What do you have to offer?"

Signy offers a slight shrug of her shoulders. "Say that you're providing some avuncular advice to a newly-found neice," she notes in a neutral voice.

"All the things that I used to bargain with -- my Sorcery, or my abilities as a smith -- I suspect that they aren't coin worth much in this Family."

Bleys nods, not completely disagreeing. "Sorcery is actually good. You might find an uncle who is willing to teach you in exchange for you teaching it to his daughter. Smithery is less valuable, unless it is of the quality of your father's, and that's special.

"That leaves you with knowledge or service, both valuable trade-goods in the cargo hold of the vessel 'Signy'. It's even possible to make complex agreements. You could offer to serve the King to repay a debt I owe him, or to help me put him in my debt, for instance.

Bleys smiles. "Inventiveness and ruthless self-exploitation are your best bartering tactics." He pauses. "Oh, and it's best to find a way to use the thing you wish to be taught to further your patron's cause, of course. 'Teach me more of the pattern, that I may better investigate Ygg's true nature for you,' is a winning pitch with an inquisitive uncle, should you happen to find one."

He leans back. "If you see yourself as valuable, and present yourself as such, then you will be. That is the entire stock of avuncular advice."

Signy shakes her head. "I am better than many smiths, but I am not my father's equal. Especially after seeing that blade," she notes in a matter-of-fact tone.

Her voice shifts back to a more neutral tone. "What was this 'Ygg' that you mentioned?"

"Ygg is... Well, its Ygg. In once sense it's the tree that marks the boundary where the influences of Chaos and Order are equally balanced. In another sense, it's a para-space-time inflection point where the 2nd order differential approaches infinity in the 3rd equation."

Bleys gestures towards the windows, "it just shows up when you get close to the inflection, which is how we know it's an artifact and not a being.

"On the far side of Ygg, other rules apply. There are still rules, but they aren't the ones you grew up with. It's wild out there. You either have to use the pattern or sorcery to survive."

As Bleys talks, Signy slips into a Zen-like attentive state. "Is it hard to find?" she asks. "It seems the sort of thing that would have been investigated fairly easily, unless there's some other challenge at play...."

Her eyes lose focus slightly as she digs through her memory. "It's been some time since I did math that was that involved. I'll probably need to do some brushing up. If I were to be interested in learning more about this Ygg, what things might be helpful?"

He smiles. "Well, you should have walked the Pattern, if you want to see the far side of the tree. Depending on where you go to it, and you can't miss it, it's literally everyway you go, if you go that way. Depending on where you go to it, you might want the ability to defend yourself. It's often in dangerous places. The most helpful thing to bring to an attempt to learn more of Ygg is an inquisitive and open mind. And a method of taking copious notes."

Bleys clears his throat. "For what it is worth, you have never done math that is this involved. There are only a handful of students, three experts, and one master. You are related to all of them.

From the determined glint in Signy's eyes, it's clear that she intends to move out of the first category and into the second quickly.

"I have already walked the Pattern. Would that be sufficient to start looking at Ygg, or is there more that an uncle might suggest that I do to prepare?"

"The standard thing to do before an expedition to a new place is some research. You could ask the Librarian. And then some of your cousins who have been there recently. Edan, Lilly, and Martin, most recently from what I hear. Fiona's children, too."

Changing the topic, she gives him a quizzical glance. "Also, there was mention of a daughter that needed to learn sorcery?"

"Yes, I said you might find one. Not me." Bleys grins. "My own daughter hasn't expressed such an interest. Although," he ponders the question for a moment, "she might want a tutor for her children. Talk about it with some of your female cousins, you might turn something up."

Signy nods slowly. "And would the trip to Ygg start teaching me the math that I need?"

Bleys tilts his head slightly. "That depends entirely on you. Every experience you ever have is a part of building the base of knowledge upon which you construct further edifices of scholarship, or else it's mere hedonism to bother experiencing anything at all.

"I'll give you the first lesson, in the form of a hint. Figure out why we call the actions we take to walk between shadows 'adding' and 'subtracting' and you'll be on the right track."

He looks out the window. "I'm afraid I have other engagements this evening. If you'll excuse me?"

Signy smoothly rises from her seat. "I'm sorry to have kept you so long, but I certainly appreciate your advice. Thank you for taking the time to help out a newly-found niece."

Offering a shy, hesitant smile, she makes her way out of the room.

"The pleasure was mine, I assure you."

Bleys watches her retreat, and returns to a book he's got on his table. The pages are covered in red marks, and the Prince pulls out a pen to make more of them.

If there is one thing Lilly simply can not do, it is sit around and wait for her body to recover. Yes, she made promises. Yes, she told loved ones she would take the time to heal. But healing and growing soft were two different things entirely. While it might be a while before she can fully bear her weight on her leg, her arms still work perfectly fine. After several days of following doctor's orders, Lilly decides to take charge of her convalescence.

Making her way to the salle, proves to be a bit of an effort. Moving about a castle of crutches is a workout in and of itself. Still, Lilly is determined. It may take twice the normal time but eventually, she finds herself in the salle. The next order of business is finding a suitable blade. Doing this serves as a painful reminder that she needs to return home. The ruin of her sword remains carefully hidden away in her rooms. Hopefully Mallett would be able to repair it. At the very least, he could provide her with something close to it's equal. For now, however, she would have to make due.

Lilly tests the weight of nearly every sword available before deciding that she likes none of them. With a sigh of frustration, she takes the least annoying of them, and moves towards a chair. After all of that, she needs a bit of a rest before beginning a true work out. She closes her eyes and shuts out all distractions until she is one with her breathing. Slowly, she lets all cares flow away until her mind is clear. Meditating, Lilly has found over the years, is always the best way to begin.

Jerod views the environs of the salle quietly, having finished another exploratory walk through the castle hallways, the metallic tap...tap...tap of the spear end echoing quietly as he memorized the layout, noting the changes in this new Order compared to the others that he had become familiar with.

Having seen Lilly, he stops himself from approaching, remaining at the edge, noting the behaviour and recognizing the situation for it's strangeness. Data filters through the back of his mind, bits of information gleaned from servants like a whale sifting krill through baleen. A seated Lady who should more likely be standing, a pair of crutches, kitchen staff comments on food for guests, mention of royal physicians and their regular visits to certain rooms, the collected minutae of dozens of conversations, forming a conclusion in the barest fraction of a second.

He steps forward onto the sand, absently noting his own ribs previously broken, a lifetime ago it seems. His pace is measured and steady as he approaches and stops on her left forward flank, just outside of sword range. Once there, he waits patiently. He too understands the value of meditation and patience.

Slowly Lilly opens her eyes and looks Jerod's direction. She allows for the briefest of smiles. "I see Garrett and I are not the only ones of our generation present in this fair city." Her smile flares for a moment then recedes behind a mask of stoicism. "It is good to see you, Jerod. I trust all is well? Or at least as well as we can expect these days?"

"The latter I would say." Jerod replies, nodding to her as he leans slightly on the spear, the grey of his new colours a contrast to his previous ones. "The preparations for my sister's funeral have occupied some of my time but not enough I'm afraid. I find myself spending more time here than I normally would. So much that I am lacking for sparring partners. I'm guessing my reputation has caught up with me."

He motions to her seated position. "You appear to have had a run-in of sorts." he says, leaving it open for her to respond as she wishes and at her own comfort level.

"Of sorts," Lilly replies with a nod. "Brennan's sister. Lovely girl, really. Perhaps just endowed with a bit too much of her father's psychosis. Though, I will admit, meeting her makes me glad Brennan is on our side." She pauses for a moment. "I can also safely say the outcome might have been quite different if not for Edan. I'm not sure how, but it would have been significantly different." She shrugs.

"I can give you all of the messy details if you'd like but the moral of the story is be wary of the redheads - particularly when they are being helpful."

Jerod smiles a little. "Tell you what. I'll trade stories. You tell me about psycho-bitch of the redhead clan and I'll give you an update on psycho-nutbar Huon.

"Edan did not strike me as being one who was...extravagant in his behaviour. I'm guessing he did something that didn't quite work as it should have?"

"Edan is a sorcerer. I think there is a rule somewhere that they all must be extravagant at some point or else risk loosing their power," Lilly quips. "I was with Martin. We were attempting negotiations with Maddoc. It went poorly. In a fit of sorceral rage, he cast me out into Shadow and as fate would have it, I ended up very near Edan and Clarissa in Uxmal, Brennan's home Shadow. There a war was being waged between Chantico and Ambrose. Edan and Clarissa were there to extract Ambrose from the situation and so I agreed to help." She gives her hand a small shake. This, of course, Lilly now recognizes as her first mistake.

"Clarissa opened a portal for Edan and I to use to track him but she was unable to follow due to some type of mystical trap laid forth by Ambrose. You will have to forgive me, my knowledge of sorcery is minimal at best and, as such, I am unable to give you much more information then that." Lilly says with a shrug. "But once Edan and I made it to the other side, we were able to track the path of the armies with ease.

"In fact, everything went fairly easily. We managed to infiltrate Chantico's army causing unrest and accomplish the task of getting to Ambrose without much effort. A little sword and sorcery seemed to go a long way. But in the end, the whole set-up played out like an elaborate trap though I think that was less the plan and more a set of circumstances that worked in Chantico's favor. In the end, it came down to Chantico and I battling one on one. And that is when things got out of hand.

"Is this making any sense so far?" Lilly asks not wanting to get too far ahead of herself.

Jerod nods, motioning to one of the men-at-arms on the side lines, a hand signal for refreshments. "Your narrative has been quite clear, though as always there are many questions forming." he says. "I promise to keep them in abeyance to allow you to continue."

"All right then," Lilly replies as she shifts her weight subtly to find a more comfortable position. Pausing for the briefest of moments, she reaches into her memories and decides how to best present this Jerod. "Do you know that moment? The moment in the heat of battle when everything is going just as planned and you feel as if you are one with your blade? That invincible rush that rarely occurs? So rarely in fact, that when you become aware of it, it immediately loses it's magic because you start to become suspicious? You start to wonder why it is all going so well? And then you notice, through it all, that your opponent has never lost their swagger and their confidence seems completely unshaken? And you realize, right then and there that you have lost the battle somehow before it even began." She falls silent and averts her gaze.

Jerod remains silent. He knows that moment, has known it several times. He does not comment on her words though, for he wonders of her need that she would offer them.

In a quiet whisper Lilly continues on. "My blow landed clean. Her head separated from her shoulders with the barest bit of skin keeping it from flying away. And she laughed. She actually seemed to enjoy the whole thing." She turns back to him, eyes still down and sighs deeply. "We had walked into the middle of her trap. I with my honor failed to recognize her utter lack of such. Or, as my father chided, her difference in perspective when it came to such things. Her form was incorporeal and the force of my blade ripping through non-existent skin threw my balance. In that moment, she was able to land just one decent blow. Perhaps it would have killed another. Perhaps I am lucky I was merely thrown rather than cut deeply about the center. I can not say for sure. But I landed hard on rocky terrain and felt my hip give way.

"Edan realized the treachery of her actions and intervened. Somehow, he forced her into a more corporeal form and bade me to strike again. By then, I had accepted the prospect of certain death as she neared me, ready for the killing blow. I knew I would have but one chance... Before that final confrontation could commence, it began to rain fire from the skies burning everything it touched." She shakes her head. "I took cover, of course. Better to allow to sorcery to work on the enemies, I decided." Her mouth twists into the ghost of a grin. "And then, just when things seemed to be at the darkest, it all ceased and Edan, Ambrose, and I stood alone on the field. I did not see the cause but can only tell you this - Edan believes the entire army was swept up, somehow, by a coyote spirit of sorts. Or that was what I though I heard. At that point, the pain and the shock of it all had begun to affect my senses. He went to investigate and sent me through to Amber. If have not seen or spoken with Edan since."

Jerod nods when she finishes, accepting the jug of water and the plain cups from the guardsman who has brought them. He fills them both, rough hewn and simple, but more than functional for what is needed here and he offers one to her, keeping the other.

She takes the cup with a grateful nod and sips gently.

"Shortly after the return of the King, I managed to get back home to Rebma. Was snooping around in Court business and got my ribs busted by a Triton." he says, smiling at the remembrance, his expression at odds with his words. "A rather unpleasant experience. Got caught like a flat footed squige surfacer, even using a sword instead of a decent spear.

"I gather you consider your situation on the unpleasant side." he says, drinking from his cup.

At this, Lilly laughs. "You might says that." She takes another sip of the water before becoming serious once more. "I'm not used to such a sedentary lifestyle. Even as a small child I refused to sit quietly and 'act like a proper' lady as my foster mother would put it. I need to stretch... and run... and spar. Something. Anything. And so I came here. But now that I am here, I'm not quite sure where to start."

"So if I may be so bold, to sum up, you appear to be faced with a situation where your considerable talents appear to have no benefit." Jerod says. "You are not in direct control of your surroundings but like all family you want to be, and you either have no training or experience, or at best limited experience, upon which to fall on to guide your next move. Would that be fair to say?"

Lilly nods. "More then fair." She takes another sip of her drink. "But I suppose in the grand scheme of things, it could be much worse. I will heal. I have assured of that. This is but a very minor setback. Frustrating but I am trying to use the time wisely. But enough of that," Lilly sets the cup aside and promptly changes the subject.

"I was very sorry to hear about you sister," Lilly says quietly. "If I may ask, what happened?"

Jerod nods but says nothing for a moment. If there is sorrow, it is no longer fresh enough to show on his face, though he does not appear to be trying to suppress his feelings. He appears more pensive than anything else.

"I'm not entirely sure." he says. "By the time I found out it had been a few days since she was found. I was in Huon's camp outside of Rebma, bringing a message from his brothers to him, looking to avert a war. The option to depart was not available.

"I managed to get additional details as time passed, after the battle was done. She went with the Queen to Tir, without backup as far as anyone can tell. Her body was found later, the Queen missing. I learned after the Queen had since returned safely, apparently found by the King. I learned of other activities that had happened with regards to Cambina's body and the hunt for the Queen that require...resolution." he says. "Ultimately, the trail is now cold so I must return to the start and begin ask questions. For some perhaps uncomfortable questions. But my starting point will be the Queen, and that means the King and it means possibly dealing with Tir as well."

He looks at his cup and smiles a little, just a little. "Which means I am faced with a situation where my considerable talents are of little benefit, I am not in control even though I always like to be, and I am wishing I did not have as much experience in burying family as I already possess. I think the King would say that at this moment it sucks to be me."

"It's nice to know I'm not alone," Lilly replies with a genuine smile. "As for your problem... I do not believe in speaking ill of people, particularly not when it is the wife of the King. And even more so when it is someone I have been assigned to protect in the past. But I am uneasy around her. There is something I can not quite put my finger in. Something odd. I suppose it might be nothing more then protective walls built to fend off the difficulties born of her blindness but still.... If there is something I can do to help on that front, let me know. I may not be the best person for interrogation but she sees me as someone in her service and bound to keep her safe. And that might give me an edge."

"I'll take whatever I can get, and an inside person is worth extra points." Jerod says, finishing up his cup. "I'm curious though. What would make you uneasy? I've known the Queen for awhile, but I'm also aware that I have a bias so I might miss things that others would not. And I never under-estimate the value of a fresh perspective."

Lilly shakes her head slowly. "I don't now," she answers honestly. "Something I can't quite put my finger on. She just never seems... genuine, perhaps? It's always as if there is a bit of a performance. And there could be very legitimate reasons for that. I have always accepted the King's judgement when it came to her. If he loves and trusts her, then who am I to question? But this situation seems a bit odd and if you can forgive me for saying so, love is sometimes blind."

"Love, and guilt." Jerod replies. "Random's last intimate conquest in Rebma ended poorly for Martin's mother, though the details on that remain sketchy. I have sometimes wondered if Random remains committed to Vialle as a way to atone for a perceived guilt for his actions. It is a question that is likely to remain unanswered."

Lilly nods. "It makes me wonder, at times, if it is possible for those of our blood to have truly loving relationships. Those who dwell within the Shadows can not truly understand us and those who dwell closest are effected by power and politics. Perhaps now, while I still know youth and innocence, is the only real chance I shall ever have to know love. And even still, I can not help wondering if such a thing will last."

Jerod smiles. "Martin and I had a discussion on this topic a few years back. He took the position that love was not possible, that it could not last and that it was ultimately meaningless. I bet him a drink that he was wrong.

"Turns out that a little while ago he admitted as much. I'm expecting that drink right after the wedding. What do you think of that, given that Martin could be considered one of the most put upon of us of this generation?" he asks.

"I suppose there is that," Lilly agrees with a smile. "Though I do find it ironic that one of the last pieces of advice my father gave to him was 'do not have children'. And he was not being anything other then completely forthright and serious when he said it. He seems to think increasing our numbers is unbalancing the universe. I myself think it's an excellent piece of advice regardless of the universal metaphysics of it all."

"Advice is usually good if it in application to a situation that one finds oneself in." Jerod says, having rapidly sifted Lilly's words. "I believe Oberon's prohibition was on pairings between Family, which no doubt raises some questions when one considers Vere and Robin or Martin and Folly.

"I would wonder however...why would your father offer you such advice? He may come across as stingy in his speech but he did not survive as long as he did by being obtuse. And parroting common prohibitions does not seem to be his style."

"That is a very good question," Lilly responds thoughtfully. "Especially considering it came before Martin became involved with Folly and before I became involved with... anyone." The last word sticks and Jerod is certain it was a last minute substitution.

"Okay, give it up." Jerod says, once more smiling. "Don't make me figure it out. I can, but then I'll destroy my reputation for being a sword-swinging brute incapable of deductive reasoning. You have no idea how many people would suffer the total devastation of their view of reality should that vision ever be brought low. Do you really want that on your conscience?"

The laughter that flows forth is both honest and innocent. "There is not much to give," Lilly replies but she's still smiling. "It's all probably ridiculously sweet and makes me feel rather like one of those annoying girls who sneak around behind their parents' backs to exchange small kisses with their betrothed." The smile falters. "That is not to imply a betrothal of any sort," she continues firmly. "It's not that serious."

Lilly takes a deep breath as she realizes she is rambling and is likely to continue to do so unless she puts an abrupt stop to this uncomfortably show of proper courtly feminism. She looks Jerod straight in the eye, nods once and states quite simply, "Garrett."

An eyebrow goes up momentarily as the name registers. "Well, as choices go he doesn't have anything immediately against him." Jerod says. "Certainly if you are going to get serious, you might as well do it in the big leagues. And you could certainly do a lot worse, though I'm not sure about the reverse.

"I suppose the logical question to ask is...does the King know?"

"I have not told the King," Lilly replies. "I suppose Garrett may have but he has not mentioned it to me if he did." She smiles, "But when we arrived, I sort of got the feeling he suspected something. So he may very well know or at least suspect that something is going on between the two of us."

Her mood quickly darkens, "And my father most definitely suspects but certainly has not been told... At least not in so many words."

"Well, he won't hear about it from me." Jerod says. "I've experienced that wonderful moment when a parent decides to find your choice of a companion to be...not to their liking.

"Are you concerned that his reaction may be more than simple displeasure?"

Lilly considers this for a moment. "Nothing is a simple displeasure with my father. In fact, I have come to believe that the word simple does not exist in his vocabulary." Her lips press into a tight line. "And I think I may have already sent him a very clear message about my choice in all of this. He wanted me to go with him to heal and I choose to go with Garrett instead. It's possible he sees it as my choosing to come to Xanadu instead of going off into Shadow but somehow I I highly doubt that... Sometimes all the logic in the world falls to the wayside when it comes to the relationship between fathers and daughters."

Jerod nods. "Parents can have trouble when the time comes for children to step outside and define themselves. I would suspect the problem might be worse when they're immortal and have had time to become set in their ways.

"In this case however, I sometimes wonder if it might be problematic to make assumptions in that vein. Parents can surprise their children as much as the reverse. I would ask another question. I am assuming that you've never actually sat down and talked to your father on these sorts of matters. Is there a reason? You are hardly what one would consider as a shrinking-violet so it would not be for that."

Finding himself with royal introductions out of the way, Fletcher's concerns turn toward closer family introductions. Borrowing a room temporarily in the palace, he asks the castle staff to let him know which members of the royal family are in residence and takes a bit to clean himself up. Upon learning that Lilly is in residence and Benedict is not, Fletcher determines that decorum dictates that he introduce himself to this newly-discovered sister as soon as possible. Employing the palace staff as his allies in this endeavour he sets out at once to find her in Random's palace.

It takes the staff very little time to discover that she is in the library. If pressed, they will note that most days, she can either be found there or in the salle. Today, her reading load is modest and only a small pile of four texts occupy the table in front of her as she reads from a fifth.

A tall man in a suit of clothes more fashionable to Paris than Amber appears in the periphery of Lilly's awareness. He is tall and of middle years. His suit is more appropriate to Court or the city than for battle but he carries a long sword in a scabbard slung over his shoulder. In his lapel is a stick pin bearing the insignia of the Order of the Unicorn. He pauses at the periphery, as if certain she is aware of him but does not approach before announcing himself. "Pardon me, please forgive this intrusion I am Sir Fletcher, Knight Commander of the Order of the Unicorn. I am told you are Dame Lilly, Knight Commander of the Order of the Ruby and the third child of Prince Benedict. When I was told you were here in residence I wanted to take the first opportunity to introduce myself." He seems to assess her condition with a physician's eye and awaits her reply.

Third child? Lilly thinks to herself. Father what have you managed to leave out now? Certainly, life should not contain these sorts of surprises.

Lilly turns slowly at the torso to look at him fully. Her right leg is propped up on the chair on front if her and she is careful to not move her hips as she pivots. Raven black hair is tied loosely at her shoulder and her almond eyes are a deep shade of brown. Normally, she refuses dresses and gowns in favor of more serviceable attire but today is different. She is wearing a simple, deep red gown with a squared neckline. As she moves, her right hand come to rest on the cane that had been leaning on the table beside her. Her face carries little expression but the set of her shoulders betrays the wariness within her mind.

"I am Dame Lilly," she replies in soft tones. "How may I be of service?"

He approaches closer, but remains standing. "This is my first trip to Xanadu." He pauses, blue eyes taking in Lilly's posture and the cane. "I didn't know you were injured. I trust you're recovering well? If there's anything I can do to help...I suppose one should start at the beginning. From your expression I'm guessing that you've never heard of me, which is a reaction I'm starting to get used to, actually. I was away from Amber for some time. My mother was Princess Emerald, you see, and by virtue of my father being Prince Benedict I'm told you and I are brother and sister." He half-smiles, not knowing what to expect.

Lilly nods once, very slowly, and manges, somehow to hold back the gape mouth expression that is currently residing within her mind. "My... Our father is rather adept at holding back details he deems to be either inconsequential or dangerous should they be known. But I suppose you already know that," She takes a deep breath and gestures to a free chair, "Please, have a seat. I having to look up at people all the time a bit disconcerting. And I suspect this is not a conversation we will be able to complete in a matter of minutes." Her voice has less of a formal edge but remains flat and devoid of emotion.

Fletcher takes a seat and sets his scabbard at his side. Leaning forward, he gives Lilly his full attention. "I imagine you have some questions."

"I hope I'm not the only one," Lilly promptly returns. "But first, put something into perspective for me, as much as you can anyway because I know this is a dangerous question," for the first time she nearly smiles before continuing on. "You said you had been away from Amber for quite some time. About how long is that? Do you even have a way of counting it? I confess that I only counted 20 turns of the seasons before my first arrival in Amber and that was... well... not that long ago. And yet, even still, with the way time passes in Shadow, I would be hard pressed to give you an age but let's just say early twenties and leave it at that. How old do you consider yourself?" Lilly's interest is genuine and may have something to do with the books of Amber's history and lineage that are sitting before her.

"I was born in Amber, so I suppose I tend to keep the Amber calendar and let the shadow math work itself out. I'll try to put it in terms you might be familiar with. I was born during the reign of Queen Faiella in Amber, when Corwin was a young man and Caine had not yet arrived on the scene. That was, by Amber reckoning, about 1800 years ago, give or take. I'd need to check the calendars to be more exact. I left shortly after Queen Faiella's death, and have only been in intermittent contact since. Most days I don't feel a day over a thousand, but today isn't one of those days. It must have been strange coming to Amber after being raised in Shadow. Was it very different from Amber?"

Lilly looks at him intently for a moment. "My...", a pause and a slight shake of the head, "Our father took me from the place I was born when I was a very small child and fostered me with a weapons smith and his wife in the Tecys. It was, I daresay, a quiet upbringing. They gave me the things I needed instead of the things I wanted and I thank them for that. We remain very close. They tried to prepare me for life within this family as best they could.

"And actually, I think even if I had been raised in Amber, it would probably would have been very different then the home you knew. As I understand it, a few major events happened between our births."

"Yes, there were several changes I know of. I don't know how one would prepare someone for life within our family. My childhood was a lot of things but quiet wasn't one of them. Our father was... not suited to simultaneously fighting on the three fronts of marriage, parenthood and the affairs of a royal court, you might say. As I talk to people I'm slowly warming up to idea that he may have adapted. Fosterage may have been a wise choice. At least, from what Martin tells me, you've done quite well for yourself so far. He didn't mention you'd been injured though. I trust you've been receiving the best of care?"

Lilly nods. "Two of our cousins aided my healing soon after the incident. And of course, there are those in the palace who have taken it upon themselves to ensure I am as safe and comfortable as possible. To be honest, it is a bit stifling at times. I am rather accustomed to a much more physical lifestyle. I took up the sword when I was a small child and have spent the better portion of my life learning to duel. Being stuck in the library is a bit of a departure." She gives a shrug. "And as for our father, I do not think he has adapted well. I think in many ways I am still something of an experiment or an opportunity for learning. I used to try my damnedest to do exactly as he wanted but now I am thinking I may actually do him a true favor by offering up more of a challenge. I would hate to think he has conquered parenting a female in only twenty short years." Her expression and voice remain completely neutral but her eyes twinkle with mischief.

"I should think the trick would be to keep him committed to the endeavor. Faced with an unconquerable resistance he might retreat or surrender altogether. Was your training with the sword the path he charted for you, or your own choice? Our family seems to have a natural affinity for swords."

Lilly smiles. "Most definitely my own," she replies. "Though one might suppose he was hopeful for that outcome when he placed me in the home of a weapon's smith. Most children don't have such things available to them, I suppose." She pauses for a moment, then smiles again, this time more brightly. "But actually, if I am being honest, I did not really have them available to me either. My foster mother was far too sensible for that. I just managed to discover all sort of interesting ways to break into my foster father's work area."

"I suppose I was lucky in that regard. My mother probably started screening fencing tutors as soon as I was born. But then, I was a boy. If I recall correctly my mother thought concealable weapons were more fashionable than swords for women. It seems our family has pushed the boundaries of traditional gender roles since then. Random told me 'Paige' is the warden of Broceliande. Are you familiar with many of our cousins? I only know their names and places in the family tree."

"Many of our generation gathered to fight the War in Chaos," Lilly replies. "Paige is formidable but she is complete. If you would like her to play the part of the traditional Lady, I am certain she could manage.... At least for a time. Like her father she can take on the needed role. But some of the female cousins do mirror the Aunts a bit better then others. Solange and Celina strike me as more traditional. Then there is Folly. She may perhaps be the most loved for the joy she brings to others. Hannah is strong willed but I can not say that I know much more about her other than that. Robin and Brita seem about as comfortable in the traditional court roles as I am. And trust me, I far prefer the uniform of a soldier to a ball gown. And my only encounter with Signy left more questions than answers so I can tell you very little about her as well."

Fletcher nods sympathetically. He also prefers to wear military uniforms rather than ball gowns.

Lilly pauses for a moment as she realizes she might be rambling on about presumably unknown cousins. "There are quite a few of us, as I am sure you can tell. And like all things. I know some better then others. There are those I would trust with my life, Garrett, Ossian, Brennan, Folly, Martin, and Paige most definitely. Most of the others as well. I daresay we are closer in some ways then our parents might ever hope to be."

"Yes, I'm ... given to understand that some of our cousins are quite close. I've studied the family tree, but that only really has their names on it. I don't know much about them otherwise, except for Reid. Were they all raised secretly in Shadow before going off to war in Chaos?"

"Many were," Lilly replies. "The Elder generation has difficulty trusting one another when it comes to disclosing what they ate for breakfast let alone letting loose details of intimate relationships." She smiles and settles back in her chair slightly. "But some, I suppose, were much more secretive then others. Brand for one. His children are still coming to light and they are not exactly friendly. His daughter gifted me with this," she gestures to her hip. "She has some issues."

Fletcher thinks for a moment, quickly deciding that if a man had attacked his sister honor would require him to act, but not if it was a fight between two women. "She must be quite formidable. I was told that you were one of the most skilled combatants in the Courts of Amber and Xanadu. Is she an enemy of the realm, or was this strictly a personal engagement?"

Lilly thinks on that for a moment, "She is an enemy of her brother, Brennan. And I consider him to be a close friend and confidante as well as my brother in arms - we are both founding members of the Order of the Ruby," she offers. "And these days, very little seems strictly personal. This is a time of unrest. The fall of the Pattern in Amber, the loss of King Oberon, and the resulting coronation of King Random and the establishment of a Pattern here in Xanadu has created a time of great change. Some see that as a vulnerability, I am sure. Still other, long forgotten enemies are rising anew because they no longer have reason to hold to the diplomatic accords with Amber. Plus, Amber could not and did not fall without directly effecting events in Rebma and Tir. To think it otherwise would be absurd."

"I see. So she's become a problem for everyone. I don't look forward to meeting her if she was able to best a warrior of your reputation. Is she really that good, or did she use some kind of gimmick?"

"She is the daughter of Brand," Lilly says in flat tones. "And, like her father, shrouds herself in sorcery. Had it been a fight of steel against steel, her head would no longer reside upon her shoulders and I should have needed little more then a warm bath to rid myself of her stench afterwards. But here I sit," she gestures to the broken hip. "Like her father though, I strongly suspect her pride will become her undoing. She is by no mean invincible merely formidable."

"Watch out though. Killing a descendant of Oberon can come with its own built-in penalty. Am I likely to run into her soon? What sort of tricks does she favor?"

"I have heard of these 'family curses'," Lilly replies sounding mildly doubtful. "But if it comes down to her life versus mine, I truly do not plan on being caught off-guard once again. She is a sorceress and likes to create illusions. My guess is, she can work a fair number of other spells as well. Magic and sorcery is most definitely not my strong suit. I prefer to fight corporeal object and spill blood with the cold of steel. But, in this family, the arcane arts seem to be garnering favor - particularly among our generation."

"I can't imagine why. Mysticism is generally no match for the Pattern. Still, when it comes to fighting non-corporeal objects, I find the key tends to be finding where they're corporeal."

The scrape of the pencil on the page is barely noticeable even in the stillness of the room as Jerod finishes the notations to the page. The departure of the other musicians has left the studio quiet, the thin silence lingering in a place that seems bereft of purpose under such circumstances.

He looks at the paper, the neatness of the staves filtering through his thoughts. Not what anyone would expect from him, he thinks. Yet inspite of appearances, some things never change.

A glance up at the door, a mental check of the time frame. He wonders where the page that he sent out could have gone. It's not like the instructions were that tough. Find Prince Gerard, ask after his guest and have her come to the studio. How hard could it be to find a bright green haired, and green skinned woman in Xanadu?

Jerod looks around at the studio, the disorderly yet oddly neat pile of beer cans left behind by the musicians. Given the number of people in the King's employ possessed of at least adequate musical talent, Jerod wonders if it might not be as simple as he first thought.

The door scrapes open and Carina's head appears around it. Her eyes take a moment to become used to the uneven pools of light as she makes sure that Jerod is alone. Seeing him so, she rushes into the room, and stops suddenly right before him, as if she fears that her welcome will not be the warm one she expects.

At the sound of the door scraping, Jerod's head snaps to view her entrance. He does not move as she rushes in, the flash of emerald green hair a blur in his thoughts, perhaps so as to not cause a collision. Where normally there is a flatness to his expression, the mask of control firmly fixed in place, there is now an expression of brief sadness. For as long as the time that he will be here with her, it is more likely that something will draw him away in the future.

He gives his heart a shake at that thought. Down that road lies nothing good he knows, and he will not spoil this moment. He puts down the pencil and rises up from the chair at the small table, not bothering with the uniform jacket. He always considers what he wants to say when these moments come, always the time in between each rejoining seeming too long, too protracted. Each time there is earnest desire to bring forth some new words to tell her how he feels, but in the end, he always comes back to the same three words.

"I missed you." he says simply, and holds his arms open.

She slides into his arms and buries her head in his chest, just breathing and letting him enfold her.

She laughs, briefly, but not at anything. "We have spent years only seeing each other occasionally, so I am quite used to missing you. I have now been forced to flee two kingdoms, and am here as a guest of the Queen, who has no reason to treat Rebman courtiers kindly. I have not had time to miss you properly until I arrived in your home." She looks at him.

"I'm told you saved Rebma from being destroyed by Huon."

He kisses her forehead as she looks up. "After a fashion." he says. "While my parents will surely be displeased that I do not claim as much credit as possible, it is fair to say it was a joint effort, though very much a pragmatic one. Given a choice between taking on Khela or Huon, the latter was the bigger threat at the time. I'll explain details in a bit."

Dark eyes always serve to capture his attention and her's most of all. "A hint concerning the Queen. Despite the fact that Random is the king, I like him. He might even turn out not bad at the role - I'm waiting to see how long he keeps bluffing and when he's going to put his cards down. I also like Vialle and she knows this. That I like you is a point that can be used in your favor should you need it." Jerod does not bother to explain how it can be used. She is old enough by far to understand what can be done with it and he trusts her not to abuse it.

Carina nods. "Thank you."

"The Queen. Mother. Leaving Rebma." he says simply. "What happened?"

"It was... difficult. We were told that only a personal appeal from the Queen to the King of Paris could possibly save us from the oncoming armies. Your mother argued against it and offered to go in her place, but the Queen was adamant.

"It was untrue, of course. She wore the face she wears when she tells a courtly lie. I had not determined what her real plan was."

She looks at Jerod. "I do know that she spent some weeks prior acting as if her death in the war or shortly thereafter was preordained. When this mission came up, that was no longer mentioned."

"When was the mission first brought up?" Jerod asks, using her answer to run a calculation based on relative time flows to determine when it occurred in relation to Cambina's death.

Carina leans into him. "It came up suddenly. I was awakened and told to attend the Queen, and when we were out of the city, I was told of why. Huon's forces were threatening our ability to get a message to Paris, so we had no time to delay."

"If she spoke a lie about a meeting with Corwin, then what did she do when she arrived? Vere informed me that he spoke to you there and you stood in the Queen's stead to advise of her fleeing the palace."

"It wasn't that it was a lie, " she says, frowning. "More ... pretext. As if she had some other reason but the one she told was plausible enough."

The frown disappears. "Whatever her plans, it was not as simple as meeting the King. When Celina arrived to act for Khela, the Queen was content to allow her a seeming victory, as if she only disputed her from habit or to confound observers."

She looks up at Jerod. "That court was no good place for scholars before, and now less so."

"Celina has her own reasons for hating Moire." Jerod says simply, his expression enough that Celina's reasons are hers alone. "It remains to be seen if she realizes the nature of the position she has placed herself in.

"Why do you say that about the Court?" he asks.

She smiles. "No court is a good place for scholars. If one is successful at court, one becomes a rival to be torn down. If one is unsuccessful, one becomes a stepping-stone for the powerful. And the occupation of being a courtier takes too much time away from scholastic activities."

Carina pulls back, holding Jerod by the forearms, letting him support her weight. "And you cannot imagine that I would have been retained, or complacent with requests, implied or explicit, to change the archives to suit the victor."

She lets out a deep sigh. "No, exile is a better place for me, but I do not have to like it."

"Your exile may not be that long." Jerod says, easily holding her weight. "Khela holds a throne not meant for her. Her actions mirror my father's. She may yet inherit his fate. If so, I am curious to see if she faces it with as much courage as he did.

"If exile is in your cards, what would you do, if you were bound only by your desires?"

She smiles, and leans into his arms, and the words flow like a deep current from her, warm and rapid. "I don't know. If I am not in Rebma, I am at risk, because Khela's partisans will not want my version of history to be perpetuated. If I am, I have to turn on the Queen who helped me and my family so much, and who looked the other way when I inappropriately courted her grandson.

"So I think I must be somewhere public, so as not to be quietly murdered, and yet not threatening by my presence. Here may be best, where I am just another exile, in the service of a new Queen. She's changed so much from when she was in Rebma, but who would not, having been raised so high?"

"Then here is where you shall be, for as long as needed. We'll see if Khela appears for either of our upcoming funerals. If so, then I'll be sure to provide her with an understanding of what will happen should something untoward happen to you." Jerod says, his expression changing a little as he speaks. There is no rage at the thought of losing her, only a coldness at the thought. He recognizes it as a limit, a boundary of behaviour that he instinctively knows he should not cross, a boundary that would disappear if she were to be gone from his life too soon. There are things that can be done, and things that should be done and the former often exceeds the latter to the detriment of all. He knows that without her, the former might easily become the only way he would continue to behave.

The possibility of this, he realizes, is something he finds disturbing. He also realizes that others would like it even less than he. Both are realizations that have value.

"And on the subject of the Queen, I must now ask you some questions about that." Jerod says. "Questions await for her and Random that will not accept silence as an answer and I must have every scrap of information I can before I meet her, if I'm to unravel what happened to my sister.

"I want to know everything about Vialle that you know."

She opens her mouth and then closes it. "Hers is not a history I know well. A poor relation to the queen on her mother's side, she was orphaned young and brought to court rather than be left to run an estate sightlessly. It was more physically safe for her, but not a happy place. Duke Martin would be able to tell you more of her early days; she was not well-loved after he left.

"When I knew her, and it was only in passing, she wore a very meek face. It was unusual for the court, but one I recognized. We were not friends, because that didn't happen.

Carina pauses. "Now she is a Queen, and not like those of us who are not Queens." Her smile is small and sad. "Sometimes she remembers her old self, I think, but only sometimes."

"Faces for court are for survival." Jerod says, repeating an old lesson. "As for being Queen, I must say truthfully that I pity her. For all that the position might offer, the choices frequently become fewer and less palatable it seems. I will not belittle your exile for I know how much you love what you do, but in this you have greater choice now than she. And I for one am glad of the most recent choice you have been able to make.

"If Martin were here I could question him further, though he is loath to speak to her or about her. He indicated to me that Vialle was set upon him as a minder, to watch him and report back to the Queen and I gather she approached that task from the perspective of an intimate relationship. The face of meekness is useful in blinding prey, like the irukandjis, small and inoffensive looking, until it stings you. That she was not well loved after Martin's departure is probably due to her not warning the Queen of his escape.

"I need to know if there is anything unusual about her, if she dabbled or met with others who did so, no matter how insignificantly. My sister was many things but foolish was not a characteristic I would place on her. The Queen went with her to Tir, and Cambina would not have accepted her company without a good reason. And a blind woman in a ghost city of visions is as much a paradox as I've ever encountered."

"That was before I was here, but I can ask and learn. I can at least use my skills as a Rebman Archivist, we are trained to learn the doings of the court by listening and asking innocuous questions."

"Let us hope that Random is wise enough to recognize the value of an archivist." Jerod says. "In the meantime, I was wondering about your help on another matter. I'm just in guest quarters now but I'll need to set up permanent ones if I'm going to be around for awhile. I could always use a second opinion on some choices. Interested?"

"Of course," she replies, very casually. "Have you spoken to Gilt Winter about it? He seems to run a number of things here, not the Steward."