Writhing in Amber

Vere briefly considers the idea of taking the quick route to Amber through the Deep Green, then rejects that as needlessly foolhardy when no extreme need for speed has been suggested for the dispatches he carries.

Instead he commandeers one of the the small boats of the Rangers and sets off down the river. Once he is out of site of the camp he begins shifting shadow, turning the deep forest around him to something closer to the trees close to Amber.

He also tries something new, experimenting with actually shifting the nature of the boat he is in as he travels, so that the closer he comes to the mouth of the river and the sea the more it resembles his sloop Psyche.

The boat becomes, gradually, the sloop. Vere cannot tell any difference between this sloop and Psyche. Vere arrives at the mouth of the river, and can sail from here up to Amber. The weather is clear and he can see Cabra in the distance. If he were to stop, he might find the cairn of stones that once marked the path to Rebma.

Vere sails out into the ocean, and for a short time simply delights in the feel of once more being upon the sea. He gives the sloop her head, feeling the way she moves, and shaking his head in bemusement when he finally determines that her every little trick and idiosyncrasy perfectly matches the Psyche of his memory.

Then he turns her towards Amber.

A sloop is better at sailing into the wind than any square-rigged ship, so the Psyche is an excellent choice for Vere’s sail back up the coast to Amber. He arrives to a gorgeous sunset, the sky a wash of reds and oranges tinging into blue. He comes up to his regular berth and does not see the Psyche. In fact he doesn’t even see slip 12, where he last left her. The dock ends with slip 10, which is empty.

The Psyche glides smoothly into slip 10. Vere ties her off and steps onto the dock, pausing for a moment to regard the harbor ands the city, comparing it to his memories, judging how the city and its feel have changed.

The city seems as he left it, although a few weeks closer to autumn that it was when he left.

He will wait a few minutes to see if anyone approaches him, officially or otherwise.

A young man comes striding down the dockside. "Good Evening, my Lord. Admiral's Complements and may I summon a remise for your use?" He looks to be one of Caine’s young officers, or a man who wishes to be one of that lot.

Vere nods a greeting to the young man. "Aye," he answers. "Where is the Admiral right now?"

Rather than guess which Admiral, the young man just rattles off the top two. "The Marquis is at the Naval Club." He looks up at the castle and spots the pennants flying there. "The Regent is in residence. I have not heard he is in the city, so the castle is the most likely place to find him. I can send runners, if you wish."

"Do so," Vere replies. "And another to the Marquis, to inform him that I would like to call upon him if the Regent permits. I will go ahead and begin to travel to the castle. Have someone intercept me if it is determined that the Regent is somewhere else."

The young man nods. "As you wish, My Lord. I will accompany you to the carriage house."

He glances at the end of the dock then back to the young man. "Is my memory at fault or was the dock not longer in the past?"

"The... recent past, My Lord?" The young man looks back at the dock. "It has not been longer than that that I recall. Perhaps before the sundering, but I was a child then."

Vere drops the subject and allows the young man to escort him to the carriage house. He silently looks about him as they walk, and once in the carriage will keep the curtains open and observe the city as it makes its way to the castle, looking for any other changes that have occurred since he was last here.

Amber seems greener that he remembered it being when he recently left. There is more green space, as if some buildings have been demolished. There's nothing Vere can point to and say that a particular building was gone, but there's a lot of growth, and in places overgrowth.

As Vere looks ahead, the path up the mountain seems more overgrown than it used to, as if no one was clearing the spring growth off of it regularly.

Vere frowns, then closes his eyes and opens his third eye to regard the greenery. Is it more than natural overgrowth caused by neglect?

Vere sees no signs of the incursion of the Deep Green, but it's possible activity from that front caused more growth in Amber. Plus, there are more vacant lots.

It's also warmer and wetter than this time of year usually is.

Vere briefly considers experimenting with making slight alterations to buildings as they drive through the city. Then he considers Caine's possible reaction and chooses to refrain.

He regards the castle carefully as the carriage approaches it.

They've done more work repairing the defensive fortifications that were damaged when the family tower collapsed in the Sundering.

The staff seems diminished, although the guard seems to be at full complement.

Vere's carriage is met at the inner bailey by a footman, who may or may not be a sailor on other occasions. "Welcome to Amber, Prince Vere," he says. "The Admiral is in the Library. Shall we open your room?"

Vere gives him a nod in greeting and replies, "Not yet. I may or may not be staying dependent upon the desire of the Admiral. I shall see him immediately." He will pause a moment, giving the footman the opportunity to lead him to the Admiral if that is his order. If not, then Vere will head to the library on his own.

The footman doesn't seem to have any such orders, and Vere take the well-worn steps to the library. It's diminished, of course, since Random moved the family library to Xanadu, but there are still books, both on shelves and in crates. There are many sea-charts as well. Caine sits at a table, reading some sort of report in a folder. He's shaved and had a recent haircut.

"Welcome back," he says. "How was your voyage?"

He seems distracted.

"The voyage was quiet, sir," Vere answers. "And it was quite pleasant to be on the sea again, even if I never did get out of sight of land." He lays the dispatches on the table.

Caine looks at them, as if they're not what he expected. He slowly picks the fist dispatch up, opens it, and looks at it. His eyes don't look like they're tracking the writing on it.

Caine picks up the rest of the dispatches. "Interesting. Where did you get these?"

"I have been working with the Rangers," Vere replies. "The Warden needed someone to bring these to you."

He tilts his head slightly to one side, regarding the Regent.

Caine's head tilts slightly, as if he were a mirror of Vere. "Oh, yes. My brother. How is he?"

Something is not right with the Regent. He leans his hand on the table beside him, puttling his weight fully on it. He is either about to spring up to the chandelier or collapse to the ground.

"Quite well, as always," Vere answers, giving no sign that he has noticed anything unusual about the Regent. He glances off to one side, opening his Third Eye, then slowly returns his glance to Caine. He doesn't want to blind himself by gazing full on at a member of the Royal Family if this really is Caine.

It's not Caine, or if it is Caine, he's lost whatever light and energy differentiated him from a non-royal person.

Disturbingly, the floor, walls, and ceiling of the library are also glowing, in a way that buildings almost never do. To Vere's Third Eye, the library looks like an extension of Caine.

Not-Caine lurches forward towards Vere.

Vere falls back, avoiding Not-Caine. "Is this necessary?" he asks, while reaching through the Principal of Space to recover the dispatches from the desk without approaching Not-Caine. "Can we not discuss matters?" His eyes flit over the room, gauging potential exits.

The room is well lit, with large windows letting in as much light as possible. Nestor's office is also close by, and the door Vere entered by is behind him.

Caine stumbles forward. "I don't... feel well."

The attachment of the room to Caine looks far too much like the way a Lord of Chaos is part and parcel of his domain to Vere for comfort, so he is going to avoid touching things as much as possible. He will endeavour to avoid the Cainish figure, dodging around to head for Nestor's office. If the door to the Head Librarian's office is closed Vere will use Space to blow it open before dashing inside.

Using the sorcerous equivalent of a hard kick, the door flies open. There is a room behind it, but it’s not Nestor's office. It's unfinished, like a stage set meant only to be seen from one angle.

Looking over his shoulder, Vere sees Not-Caine stumbling after him. He seems to be shrinking as he comes, as if he's peeling off a slice of his leg with every step. The net effect is that it looks like he's going down very narrow stairs into the floor.

The view through the door looks wrong, somehow, as if it's not as solid as it seemed when he was led in.

Vere slashes a hand through the air, ripping a hole in Space between here and the deck of the Psyche. He glances through the hole before leaping through it, just in case there are any unpleasant surprises waiting.

The ship is floating peacefully in the slip in the harbor. It has started to rain, gently, and some is actually falling into the hole that Vere has opened.

Behind Vere, Not-Caine has fallen to the ground, and is crawling towards the door. Each movement pulls off another thin layer from his arms and knees, as if he were composed of slices of roast beef. He's nearly at the door to the office. Or part of him is. Behind him is a trail of the rest of him.

The Psyche is firmly beneath Vere's feet, and the whole dock seems to be shaking.

Through the portal, Not-Caine looks at the Prince of the Isles. "Vere, help me!", he says.

Vere glances at the city, and the castle on the mountain, with his Third Eye, looking for other traces of Not-Caine, before turning his attention back to the portal. "What help would you have, then?" he asks in a cold voice.

"Pull me through! This shadow is collapsing! It couldn’t handle both of us." Not-Caine reaches for the rip in space between his office and the Psyche.

Vere lifts a hand, preparing to close the rift. "Be honest, and I help you," he says. "Lie, and fall." He is prepared to either reach through and pull the other to safety, or to close the opening, depending on the words and actions of the one claiming his aid.

"This is why I sent everyone away, you fool! Pull me though your sorcerous gate!" He's crawling, leaving more bits behind him on the floor. In another moment, he'll have reached the opening. Parts of him will have reached it, anyway.

"And that you are Caine is what I do not believe," Vere says, a faint trace of sadness in his voice, as he closes the Portal before any of notCaine can come through it.

He casts off from the dock, and observes Amber, or perhaps merely a shadow trap made to resemble Amber, as he sails away from it.

As Vere goes to cast off, he notices that the Psyche is in slip 12. He doesn't really know what he’d change to make this shadow more like Amber.

Vere sails a little ways out into Amber Harbor, makes certain that he is not in the path of any other vessels, then quietly observes the city and the castle for a while, using both his mortal vision and his third eye. "I certainly hope that was not you, Saeth," he murmurs quietly. He draws his father's trump, but pauses thoughtfully, and does not look at it.

Amber is itself, the partially abandoned city that is a shadow of its former self. There are still plenty of people, but not the thriving trade and rough life it once held. Many have left and even a diminished city does not lack for people to fill the abandoned spaces.

The castle and city look as they did when Vere left, but the city seems smaller. Not in size, and not in the buildings, but in life. On the fringes, parts of it seem abandoned completely. This is a continuation of trends Vere saw when he was last here.

It seems hard to believe that it once rivaled Paris or Xanadu.

Vere watches silently for a short while, then shakes his head. More investigation is clearly called for, but he will not be so reckless as to go in without informing someone, in case he vanishes.

He looks at the card in his hand. "Father," he says. "It is Vere."

"Hello Vere," his father replies. "Sorry, I was taking a nap. Have you returned from your mission for the King?"

"Not yet, Father," Vere answers. "I am still working with Uncle Julian and the Rangers, as we discussed when we last talked. I wanted to know if you have heard any news of Amber recently? I am here, and there is a most curious situation."

Gerard shakes his head. "No news that I've heard. A lot of people are still coming from there to Xanadu, of course, so I'd've expected we would've, were there any.” Gerard, at least, understands his antecedents.

Vere nods. "That is what I expected. Very well, then, this needs to be brought to the King's attention. Uncle Caine is not in residence. Instead, there was either an impostor or a construct of some kind pretending to be him. It might have tried to attack me when I discovered it was not Caine, although I am not certain if it was actually an attack, or an attempt to save itself when the constructed shadow of Caine's office collapsed." Vere shrugs. "I do not know enough about these things to be certain what happened, but I do think it is important to report that either Caine has left Amber, and left a decoy in his place, or else someone was able to kidnap and replace him." Vere's voice does not indicate which of these he thinks is more likely.

"I am about to go to the Naval Club to question M about this matter. I wished to report what had occurred so far in case of any..." Vere pauses delicately, before concluding, "...possible difficulties."

"If aught like that had happened to Caine, I'd hope we'd have heard." Gerard's face scrunches into an agitated frown. "Someone would have come through the gate."

There's a ponderous slow pause while Gerard considers the options, settling on one he clearly doesn't like. "You know that when too many of us spend time in a shadow, things become strange around it. Is there a chance the shadows around Amber have led ye astray?"

Vere nods. "That is always possible, Father. I have not been using the Pattern for long, and walking through shadows is still new to me. When I first arrived I noticed a few oddities - a dock that was not as long as it should have been, more overgrowth than should have occurred in this short time, and so on. I thought they were due to the fact that Amber is now only a shadow, not Reality."

Vere tilts his head thoughtfully. "I escaped from the false Caine through a Sorcerous portal. It is possible that I might have stepped from a shadow of Amber to the true Amber when I did that. I do not know how to test this, other than perhaps going back to the Castle and seeing if Caine is there."

"I'd leave and come back into harbor, meself, but I'm a stick in the mud that way. Are you sure you don't want to come here and have me hand you through to Caine instead? If there's no certainty of where you've landed with your sorcery, it might still not be safe." Gerard's native mistrust of sorcery leaks through the connection, along with his concern for Vere.

Vere considers that possibility, then shakes his head. "At this point I am rather interested in finding out what has happened. I shifted through shadows on my way here to turn the boat I was using into the Psyche, which I had left in Amber. When I used Sorcery to escape the false Caine I stepped through Space onto the Psyche. Perhaps Reality had created a false Amber to prevent the paradox of the two Psyches, and I am now back in the true Amber? Does that sound possible?"

Gerard ponders the question for a long moment before saying, "Could be. I've never tried to find a thing I knew was mine in Shadow to take back to Amber knowing it was there. Or to make one, if you will. If I have a thing, it's with me; if it's in Amber, it's in Amber." He shrugs, a bit of bafflement coming through the connection. It's not clear to Vere whether his father is questioning the possibility that Shadow is working the way Vere's trying to make it work or why Vere chose to plate his metaphorical and metaphysical beans in that manner.

"But you have found something in Shadow that was somewhere else in Shadow, have you not?" Vere asks.

Gerard starts to say something and then decides whatever it is isn't relevant as Vere continues.

"And Amber, alas, is but Shadow now." He smiles. "Well, since that may well have been what happened, and not some nefarious business regarding Uncle Caine, I think my next step is to return to the castle and see if he is there."

Vere pauses then, then adds, "I have not seen Robin yet, but I have been told that she has returned from her visit to Aunt Fiona."

"Aye." Gerard sounds relieved at the change of subject. "She's gone back to Arden to help Julian. The last I heard, she was sniffing around for some trouble on the border with Broceliande, such as it is. Not," he hastens to add, "into the Deep Green. Just the forest border that shades off into shadow toward Xanadu."

Vere nods. "I would dearly like to be with her," he says, "But I believe that Uncle Julian thinks it best for the Family to see that she can operate on her own and does not need to rely upon me for stability. This is logical although I do not like it."

Gerard frowns. "I wouldn't presume to say what Julian thinks or not about the needs of his daughter. But have ye considered that Robin may want to show such herself? She had a rough time coming back from the wars, but she's no child. If her knees wobble now and again, she may want to stand straight on her own, without need of her sire or any man to tell her what to do."

Vere's face reveals nothing of what he thinks of this suggestion. "Once I am through with this matter in Amber I shall return to Arden," he says. "Robin and I shall discuss the matter then.

"Thank you, Father, for your advice. I shall return to the castle now." Vere's hand hovers over the card waiting to sever the connection unless Gerard has some final words.

"Good luck, and call again if ye need me. I’ll be waiting to hear from you or Caine." And on that note Gerard is ready to relinquish the contact.

Vere sails back to the dock, ties up, and takes a leisurely walk up to the castle. He is closely observing the city, to see how it compares to the last version.

The city here is more like the one Vere remembers, though it seems to be depopulating more rapidly than Vere has any reason to expect, even given the hardships of the Regency and the exoduses to Xanadu and Paris. More buildings are boarded up and abandoned, though many shops are still open, if with fewer goods, and many homes and tenements are still at least partially inhabited. If Vere passes by the Naval, it's open, or at least guarded rather than abandoned.

The stair up to the castle appears unchanged, at least, and there are guards on duty at the gate as there should be.

Vere enters the castle and considers the servants and members of the staff that are apparent. Are they new, or are they old members of the staff who chose not to relocate to Xanadu?

Some of the members of staff are familiar to Vere from the five years of his father's Regency. Others, perhaps more, are young Naval types, presumably in Caine's service. Fewer, if any, of these are personally known to Vere. As far as Vere can tell, the people Vere knows are, in their brief encounters, behaving exactly as they ought to do. There's nothing strange or wrong about any of them.

He will request an audience with the Regent at his uncle's convenience.

The midshipman on duty passes that message to Caine.

Not long thereafter, Vere is ushered into the office from which Caine does his Regenting. It looks just like it did the last time he was in this office with Unstable Caine. "Welcome to Amber, Vere."

"I hope so, Uncle," Vere replies with a small smile. "Earlier today I arrived at someplace that wasn't quite Amber, and someone or something that wasn't quite you."

"Then you'll need to sharpen your use of the family gifts as you come here. I'm not surprised based on what I've heard of the metaphysics. To the extent that Amber is losing its reality, it's going to be harder and harder to come here directly through Shadow, especially for those of you with less experience." Which Caine doesn't say unkindly so much as observationally.

"Would you like a drink while you tell me your news?" Caine reaches around behind him to the credenza, where several decanters--flat, ship-style--of liquir are sitting.

"Yes, thank you," Vere answers. He puts the dispatches on the table in front of Caine. "From the Warden."

Caine finishes preparing two drinks and puts one down in front of Vere. He then opens the dispatches and glances through them. "Hmm. Nothing urgent. Tell me about what you encountered in Arden, and then how you think you went wrong on your return."

He stirs his drink idly with his finger, in a way that Flora would almost certainly disapprove of.

Vere pulls a chair up to the desk and sits down, then takes a sip of his drink before answering. "I am working with the Rangers currently, learning how they do things and what is going on in Arden. Uncle Julian sent me on a reconnaissance mission into the Deep Green, which contacted me to give a vague, poetical warning of some sort. I had heard some of the stories of the Deep Green and the Dragon of Arden. My brief and glancing encounter with it definitely reminds me of a Lord of Chaos."

Caine looks surprised. "I would recommend against... entanglements with the Dragon. It has bested more than one Prince of Amber."

Vere nods. "I did not seek it out," he clarifies,"And I have no plans of doing so in the future, unless under the direction of someone who understands it far better than I."

Vere tilts his head to one side. "As to how I went wrong in coming here..." he smiles slightly. "I think that was the result of an experiment that I attempted. I sailed to Amber from Arden on one of the boats of the Rangers and as I sailed I shifted shadow to change the boat into my sloop Psyche which I had left in dock here in Amber. I suspect the resulting paradox is the cause of my failure to arrive here on the first attempt. When I fled from the collapsing shadow I used Sorcery to open Space back to the deck of the Psyche and Reality appears to have used that as a loophole to return me back to Amber and the collapse the two versions of the Psyche back into one."

This time Caine doesn't look surprised at all. "I assumed it might be something like that. You can't force a paradox with the pattern, you can only make the illusion of a paradox. You got exactly what you expected, which was Amber, but without the Psyche.

"So, instead of landing in the same Amber that I'm in, you ended up in some near-Amber, but not a very stable one, from what you say.

"You can discuss the philosophy of it with your more philosophical cousins, but practically, it can be dangerous. It's one of the reasons Dad didn't let youngsters walk the pattern too soon, and why he made sure we all had Trump decks."

Vere nods once again.

Caine looks down at the dispatches from Arden. "Do you want to return immediately, or will you accompany the supplies that I'm to send to the Rangers?"

Vere takes another sip of his drink, then asks, "How long will it be before the supplies are ready?"

Caine gives the list a quick glance. "Two days. Most of it is basic supplies: blankets, food, bandages and such. It's the weapons that will take a bit longer."

He hands the dispatches to Vere. "Nothing unusual here, we're just going to have to gather it together."

In summary - Vere wants to check out the Amber library, just to see if it is still as he remembers it or if it seems to have fewer volumes. More as a point of information than anything else.

The library does have fewer volumes,and fewer librarians. Apparently much of it has been moved to Xanadu. The fragile stuff is waiting on the return of Nestor, who is in the new capital organizing the new library.

Then he wanted to go by the Naval Club to see M. Whether we play out the meeting with M or not depends on what sort of shape the old man is in.

M will see Vere. He's too old for a command at sea, but he's good on land. He seems more careworn than he did when Vere last saw him. Even the Naval seems less busy than it was. The center of Amber Naval power is split between Xanadu and Caine's office, so M is not in the middle of the web as he once was.

He's still got his wits though, and his voice is still stern. Once appropriate formalities are dispensed with (and M is a stickler for appropriate formalities), he gets right to the point. "I understand you're riding with the Rangers now."

"I am, milord," Vere answers. "My upbringing in the Isles included a great deal of forest craft, and I fought beasts of Chaos in the woods during what were called the Black Forest Incursions. It seemed a natural fit."

"I've never understood the appeal of the land, when the sea beckons." He shakes his head. "Nonetheless the Admiralty always stands ready to help the princes of the blood. What can I do for you?"

"You are in the habit of knowing things," Vere says. "That is not an easy habit to break. What is being said that is not making its way to the King or the Regent, now that you are not in the loop?"

M looks at Vere, considering how or perhaps what to answer. "There are multiple loops, and the King and the Regent are not completely without my guidance.

"What the King and the Regent choose not to deal with is another matter. And a difficult one, for how does one slowly kill a city that has lived for over two millennia? The city has not social structures to deal with wholesale abandonment.

"And yet it happens."

Vere nods slightly, without expression. "I confess to being somewhat disappointed," he says. "I had hoped that the appointment of the Regent meant a plan to save Amber, a revitalization. But what I see is a city in decline. It is ... sad." Neither his voice nor his expression show the sadness he speaks of, nor give any clue to his real thoughts on this matter.

The old man snorts. "Try not to be sentimental, Lord Vere. It's a fortification whose walls cannot be rebuilt. The city hasn't been the same since the sundering. It's foundering.

"No, we save the people and move the flag. If that works, the city will rebuild. But we do this so fast that elements that we should not allow in to the new world are amongst the first."

Vere nods. "Lady Robin and I had a similar conversation regarding the destruction of my homeland," he says. "In the end, the people matter more than the place."

He tilts his head to one side. "I believe I see your point," he adds. "If we are forced to move, then that move could have been a chance to..." he pauses, as though considering his words carefully, before continuing, "...to filter the populace."

M snorts. "Cull the bad seeds is what I mean. There's many who've already gone from Amber to this Xanadoo who should've been chained to a metaphorical oar, where they could've done some service to their King. Now those elements are parasites in his new city."

"A healthy organism can survive a certain number of parasites," Vere says mildly. "Especially if the cost of removing them is cutting out healthy flesh."

He to tilts his head slightly to one side, considering. "Unless you think it possible they are symptomatic of something deeper. Conspiring with enemies of the throne, for instance?"

"Bah! It's just opportunists. Most people will sink to unspeakable behavior, if not governed." M looks. "There's something to the King's plan, of course. Do it quick and don't look back."

"Indeed," Vere says. "Especially when there are real and dangerous enemies that have to be dealt with?" It has the form of a statement, but the tone is interrogative, and Vere waits to see what M's response would be.

"The admiralty needs to become more involved, there and here, to help maintain order and stability. There were riots on the docks of Xanadu. Riots! Sir Archer would've hanged the ringleaders, back when Oberon was King. They're probably going to give him a title and a country estate to die on."

He turns to Vere and looks at him with only the slightest tone in his voice. One might imagine that it isn't even accusatory at all. "There's no point in securing the woods against monsters if you don't also secure the city against people."

"Indeed," Vere answers. "I appreciate the point, milord." He takes another sip of his drink, then asks, "But other than warnings against the general sort of people who have been allowed to immigrate, you have no specific individuals or groups in mind at this precise time?"

"Oh we've got lists. We've passed them along to Lord Ash. The woman who smuggled a basilisk to Xanadu is on it, but she's got protection of some sort. Octave, the lawyer for another. Some of Lord Lucas' spies, who also have royal sanction. Every single printer that hasn't had his shop burned down in the past five years.

"And so on. The new Lord Mayor of Xanadu is more interested in politics than the King's Peace, if you ask me. He needs to set some examples."

Vere nods. "I see," he says. "This is then a difference of opinion between the old order and the new, complicated by the difficulties caused by King Random having brought people in from outside who have different ideas of how to proceed." He finishes his drink and sets the glass down. "That being the case, you can understand why I might prefer the more definite enemies of the woods for the time being."

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Quite. Perhaps the forest or indeed the palace are better suited for your talents and ambitions, my Lord." He pauses, just long enough for it be described as uncomfortable. "Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

The old man seems sharper, somehow, then he did a few moments ago.

Vere rises. "I would not wish to take up any more of your time," he says. "It was very good of you to see me."

"My best to your father," he replies.