Agraynel and the Pattern

[Wired*Nun]

"Well, I mean, all right then." He looks at her in surprise. "I didn't realize you would want to jump right in...most people sleep well and prepare mentally for it, do you want to do that, or just...head down?"

Gray shakes her head.

"I've had enough sleep to last a lifetime. And to be honest, if I take time to think about it I'll probably lose the nerve..."

She looks up at Bill, eyes bright again - maybe a little too bright? - and slight frame taught with restless energy at the prospect of having a challenge at hand.

[chalice]

She looks up at Bill, eyes bright again - maybe a little too bright? - and slight frame taught with restless energy at the prospect of having a challenge at hand.
"Hmm, well, I've never done this before, so I don't know really what to do. I've only seen the thing once, when Corwin took me down, and that was years ago. Who do you know that would be sympathetic to you? Flora is the obvious choice, you're on her good side, right?"

Presuming a positive answer, Bill leads the way to Flora's office, where the queen bee is busy in her chamber. "Bill, Gray, nice to see you two," she says brightly. Putting aside an unruly stack of papers, she says, "Thanks for the excuse for a break. Let's get some coffee." Outside her office she heads for the buffet, on which is set beverage service. Pouring a cup for each, she drinks hers black. Looking over the rim, she asks, "What can I do for you today?"

Bill turns to Gray and says with a twinkle in his eye, "Well, I'm just counsel for the defense here, better let the client speak for herself."

[chalice]

Bill turns to Gray and says with a twinkle in his eye, "Well, I'm just counsel for the defense here, better let the client speak for herself."
Gray returns him a half-hearted smile, then turns back towards Flora.

Keeping her hands clasped in front of her, around the book she was reading, and her eyes submissively on the floor, she says quietly "Bill suggested walking the Pattern might be a good idea. I would like to try it -"

Now that the adrenaline rush has worn off, Gray realises she is almost worn out, and even a little shaky, and adds

"- after getting some rest. What need I do for that to be possible?"

[Wired*Nun]

[Sorry, forgot we were going private]

"I'll put you on the docket. Tomorrow morning? And Bill, you want to go with her?"

He nods thoughtfully. "Though I don't relish the thought of walking all that way back. Ah well, I'll pack a lunch and take my time."

"All right, two for the basement. Will there be anything else?" Gracious, but harried, she seems to be.

[chalice]

"I'll put you on the docket. Tomorrow morning? And Bill, you want to go with her?"

He nods thoughtfully. "Though I don't relish the thought of walking all that way back. Ah well, I'll pack a lunch and take my time." Sounds like you realise I don't plan on coming back afterwards...

"You don't have to come, Bill. I mean - you're very welcome, but - well, it'll be strange, is all. Last time, my shifting went completely wild and...you might prefer not to see that...Mandor did put something in my mind to help me control the Gift, but he said it would disappear" quite painfully "if I 'accessed Pattern'...so that isn't going to help."


"All right, two for the basement. Will there be anything else?" Gracious, but harried, she seems to be.
"Just one thing," Gray hesitates, "would it be possible for me to borrow a Trump of Landon? I don't have one, and now I know - kind of - where he is, and that Corwin might allow him to accept calls, I'd like to try to contact him from time to time." One quick, hopeful glance up through her eyelashes, then her gaze returns to the floor.

If Random has filled you in, you'll know what I'm talking about. If not, that should give you enough to join the dots yourself...I'd tell you everything, but not with Bill here...you know where to find me though, if you want to talk...after all, I wasn't told not to tell anyone else...hell, since it seems Random wants excuses to get mad at me, why not give him a real one...?


Gray yawns, covering her mouth delicately with one hand. "Excuse me. I think I should go and get some rest now. Goodnight, Aunt Florimel," she raises herself slightly on tiptoe to kiss her aunt's cheek. Mmmm, you smell so good.

"Goodnight, Bill," she repeats the process. "And - you did help. Thank you. Sorry I was a brat."

Gray heads back to her room.

Back in her borrowed sanctuary, she curls up on the bed, intending to meditate for a few hours, half hoping Flora will drop by to talk - and instead falling almost at once into a deep sleep.

[Wired*Nun]

"You don't have to come, Bill. I mean - you're very welcome, but - well, it'll be strange, is all. Last time, my shifting went completely wild and...you might prefer not to see that...Mandor did put something in my mind to help me control the Gift, but he said it would disappear" quite painfully "if I 'accessed Pattern'...so that isn't going to help.""Oh, it's the least I can do, really. And, frankly, I'd like to see it again. The Pattern, I mean. It reminds me how extraordinary the place I am in really is."


"Just one thing," Gray hesitates, "would it be possible for me to borrow a Trump of Landon? I don't have one, and now I know - kind of - where he is, and that Corwin might allow him to accept calls, I'd like to try to contact him from time to time." One quick, hopeful glance up through her eyelashes, then her gaze returns to the floor.
A lift of an eyebrow is all the reaction from Flora. "Of course, dearie, no problem. Stop by, I'll have it for you." Was that a wink?

Gray yawns, covering her mouth delicately with one hand. "Excuse me. I think I should go and get some rest now. Goodnight, Aunt Florimel," she raises herself slightly on tiptoe to kiss her aunt's cheek. Mmmm, you smell so good.Flora accepts this as her due, and squeezes Gray's arm as she lets her go. "Come see me any time, really, honey. It's tough to be a woman around here, and even tougher to be a girl. Bill, thanks for looking after her." She favors him with a genuine-seeming smile, and he colors a little bit. "You'll turn an old man's head, Flora."

"Oh, I do hope so, and you're not so old as all that."


"Goodnight, Bill," she repeats the process. "And - you did help. Thank you. Sorry I was a brat."
"My, my, now my head is really turned. Ladies, it's been a pleasure. I should either work or sleep, I'm not sure which. Any luck on convincing Random to get Dworkin to put more hours in each day? I thought not. Well, good night."

Gray's dreams are pleasant and untroubled, unusually peaceful. Somehow, something seems good and right, right now, though she can't put her finger on it, and she wakes to the morning light, drowsing under the covers.

[chalice]

Gray's dreams are pleasant and untroubled, unusually peaceful. Somehow, something seems good and right, right now, though she can't put her finger on it, and she wakes to the morning light, drowsing under the covers."Mmmm..." Gray allows herself a few minutes more cocooned in warmth and this wonderful feeling of contentment - funny...don't remember getting into bed...nice bed... - then stretches and makes ready for her morning adventure, not questioning the feeling, lest it vanish.

Once clean, and dressed in comfortable grey leggings, white shirt and soft boots, she stuffs the few items unpacked the day before into her travel satchel - along with the book - and swings her warm old travel cloak around her shoulders.

One more glance around the room, and she will make her way to find Flora before it's time to meet Bill and head Pattern-wards. At this time of day, she expects to find Flora in her own quarters making ready for the day, so she asks a page to direct her there; should Flora prove not to be there, she'll ask where she might be found and head off there.

She finds herself humming happily under her breath as she makes her quiet way through the corridors of Castle Amber.

[OOC: or, interrupt where needed:) ]

[Wired*Nun]

One of the maids directs Gray to Flora's office. Apparently she rose early today, against her custom.

Once there, the smell of rich coffee tinged with some spice assails her nostrils, along with the sight of pastries and soft cheese.

"Morning, Gray, help yourself. Terribly fattening, isn't it always. Have to go join Random for one of his infrequent workouts one of these days...or maybe just go back to Vienna and dance for a week. Here's Landon's Trump," she says, handing it over, "and do you have one of me? If not, there's one for you. Bill should be in at breakfast, or in his office working, though I haven't actually seen him." She points at the Trump of her sitting on the edge of her desk, then flips open a book and makes a notation. "I keep bugging Random to figure out a way to get some computers in the palace, even a word processor or two. Low priority, I guess." She rolls her eyes.

[Wired*Nun]

One of the maids directs Gray to Flora's office. Apparently she rose early today, against her custom.

Once there, the smell of rich coffee tinged with some spice assails her nostrils, along with the sight of pastries and soft cheese.

"Morning, Gray, help yourself. Terribly fattening, isn't it always. Have to go join Random for one of his infrequent workouts one of these days...or maybe just go back to Vienna and dance for a week. Here's Landon's Trump," she says, handing it over, "and do you have one of me? If not, there's one for you. Bill should be in at breakfast, or in his office working, though I haven't actually seen him." She points at the Trump of her sitting on the edge of her desk, then flips open a book and makes a notation. "I keep bugging Random to figure out a way to get some computers in the palace, even a word processor or two. Low priority, I guess." She rolls her eyes.

[chalice]

"I suppose, " says Gray, in a carefully neutral voice, "that he has a lot of other things on his mind."

She tucks the proffered Trumps safely away with her others: "Thank you. I did borrow one of you from Heldrik, but then I ended up coming back here with Arrotel..."

She helps herself to a cup of milky coffee, and a couple of pastries, apparently thinking something over. How do I begin...Then she perches on the edge of a chair, balances the plate on its arm, and with her hands wrapped around the cup looks back at Flora a little anxiously.

"Yesterday was a - a really strange day, Aunt Flora. I expect you've already heard all about it, but do you think I could tell you anyway, myself? And - maybe - ask if you had any advice for me...?"

Unless Flora says 'no', Gray will go on to recount events from the moment she, Heldrik and Asmundson left Amber to look into the stranger at the Maze, up to her return to Amber with Arrotel. There's no missing detail, but this account is a more 'personal' one than she gave Random, involving her own feelings and reactions, and also her failed attempt at disobeying Heldrik to go and look for Landon, and detail on what Mandor seems to have done to her mind. She doesn't continue in detail with anything after returning to Amber, though - she simply finishes: "And then we told the King."

She grimaces, and sips at her coffee. "And I don't know what he thought about any of it, because we got into an argument."

More coffee. "I don't like being used to help start a war..." I don't understand why we would send our people to get killed to help the King of Chaos secure his domestic position...

"So - anyway - I don't really know what to do next, but I do know I can't stay here. I thought I might go and look for Landon, unless - do you think he would prefer me not to? He doesn't like me much..."

She looks down again, and begins to nibble at a honey-coated pastry.

At least I don't have to worry about weight gain...

[Wired*Nun]

Flora puts down her work and fold hr hands, perfunctorily at first, but her apparent interest grows as Gray's tale unfolds. A little smile smile plays at the corners of her mouth, until the last, when she apparently buries her amusement at Gray's serious tone.

"I don't think it will come to war, but if it does, it won't be Amber that starts it, and it won't be your fault that it happened. If you hadn't been there, they would have found some other way to pass the word. The art of ruling is really just that - not a science. No matter how organized it seems, it's always balanced on the edge of a knife. No mater how much power there is, there's never enough to go around, or to satisfy everyone who wants it."

"I'm going to make a couple of guesses - that Landon is in no danger except that is his own making - that he would be happy to see you - and that you need to work out your own life, dear. He's..." She glances around, and lowers her voice, "He's the only connection you have left to your father. Do what you need to do."

[chalice]

Flora puts down her work and fold hr hands, perfunctorily at first, but her apparent interest grows as Gray's tale unfolds. A little smile smile plays at the corners of her mouth, until the last, when she apparently buries her amusement at Gray's serious tone.
Far from being upset, Gray seems to find Flora's amusement comforting somehow. I always do take everything too seriously...especially myself, I guess...Killian always said that was what made me such a natural owl...

"I'm going to make a couple of guesses - that Landon is in no danger except that is his own making - that he would be happy to see you - and that you need to work out your own life, dear. He's..." She glances around, and lowers her voice, "He's the only connection you have left to your father. Do what you need to do."
Gray brightens visibly at the words 'would be happy to see you'. At the last, quieter comment, she nods. "Yes, I thought so."

Setting aside her cup, she comes lightly to her feet and gives Flora an implusive hug.

"Thank you! I'll go and find Bill now!"

Light on her feet as a dancer now, she turns to go, pauses to collect her half-eaten honey-cake, and then is out of the door and on her way to find Bill.

She checks his office first; if he isn't there, she'll head towards the breakfast room, hoping to meet him on the way. If this doesn't happen, she'll wait outside for him to finish, not wanting to break her unlooked-for good mood by attending a Family breakfast, and catch him when he leaves.

"Ready?" she asks, smiling a little nervously.

[Wired*Nun]

Boll Roth is in his office, and waves her to a seat with one hand while scribbling with the other. "I wish I could bill someone for all these hours. Having unlimited wealth just isn't as much fun when there's no one to be impressed by it." He finishes his scribbling, tosses down the pad and stand up, flexing his hand.

Stepping around the desk, Gray can see Bill is dressed in practical boots and trousers, a linen shirt and vest with pockets. Picking up a leather shoulder-bag, he slaps on battered fedora and motions for Gray to lead.

Down and around the winding staircase, Bill keeps a hand on the edge of the steps above. "I suppose a railing is out of the question? But you folks never trip and fall, do you? Any chance that immortality thing is catching?" His tone is light, but there is an undercurrent of sorrow. Must be hard to know those around you will probably outlive you...I wonder if shapeshifting can reverse some of the effects of aging?

The caverns are uniformly cold, as usual. The seasons have no meaning here in the depths of the mountain, and they both are shivering a bit, and walk briskly to keep warm. Faint sounds - rocks shifting? - echo down the corridor, and they are both somewhat relieved when they reach the seventh door. Bill reaches up to turn the key, but can't. "Sorry, I guess it takes your strength to do it."

[chalice]

Down and around the winding staircase, Bill keeps a hand on the edge of the steps above. "I suppose a railing is out of the question? But you folks never trip and fall, do you? Any chance that immortality thing is catching?" His tone is light, but there is an undercurrent of sorrow. Must be hard to know those around you will probably outlive you...

At least as hard as knowing everyone around you will fade and die...


I wonder if shapeshifting can reverse some of the effects of aging?

Gray's eyes widen at the thought.

Maybe...maybe it could...there's no reason the physical deterioration should not be reversed...at intervals...if the spirit - soul - whatever - is immortal, perhaps it would stay, given an immortal frame...?

"A plague of Amberites, you mean?" she keeps her voice deliberately light to match Bill's. "What a hideous thought!"

The teasing tone of voice doesn't quite hide the pensive look in her face - even to a non-lawyer, it would be obvious that his seemingly light-hearted question has got her thinking seriously about something.

The thoughtful, abstracted look deepens as she turns away from Bill and continues downward, thoughts blessedly diverted from memories of the last time she made this long descent with Eric, to the intricate details of her anatomical studies.

Wouldn't be fair to raise the possibility until I've experimented...but I will find out...


The caverns are uniformly cold, as usual. The seasons have no meaning here in the depths of the mountain, and they both are shivering a bit, and walk briskly to keep warm. Faint sounds - rocks shifting? - echo down the corridor, and they are both somewhat relieved when they reach the seventh door. Bill reaches up to turn the key, but can't. "Sorry, I guess it takes your strength to do it."

"My pleasure." I'm cold, not scared. That's why my voice is shaking.

Gray reaches out, turns the key in the lock and pushes open the door. She gives herself a moment to take in the sight of the Pattern, and calm herself, then steps inside with Bill.

"Well - I guess this is it...wish me luck, Bill?"

Giving Bill a quick hug, Gray turns and makes her way to the Pattern's beginning. Then she takes a deep breath, and begins to walk before she can change her mind.

[Wired*Nun]

"Luck to you, young lady. I'll wait and watch, if you don't mind." He settles down against the cavern wall, and opens his bag, rummaging in it for a thermos of coffee.

Setting her left foot upon the Pattern for the second time in her short life, she is reminded of the first time, and the instructions her father gave her. "Keep focused, keep pushing, and never give up. I love you, I have faith in you, wolfling."

The sparks come immediately, crackling about her boots, light but no heat, shivers, ozone...a few steps, then the first arc, then another and another, the first Veil rising before her. Knowing she has done it before, knowing she can do it again, sustains her. I wonder what became? will become? of whatever it was that Lord Mandor did to me?

He question is answered, the Veil falls upon her head like a stone wall. It never felt like this! is all she has time to think before the pain overpowers her and she stumbles off the line of the Pattern.

"GRAY!" comes the reflexive shout from Bill as she hits the floor, blind from the agony. All of the thoughts and feelings, all of the doubts and fears, thunder back upon her in a wave that sweeps aside all thoughts of control. Reflexively, she reaches for her crinos form, but cannot effect any change at all. Despair buries her as she loses consciousness.

Years later, or minutes, it's all the same, she wakens. Cold... it seeps through her clothing from below...she is lying on chill stone, sprawled. Glowing discs overhead...stars? Enormous droplets of light dance and twinkle in the heavens, more stars than she has ever seen, as if she could reach up and touch them, pluck them from the sky...if she could only move.

With a groan, she rolls on her side, and massages some feeling into her arms. Thirsty...how long have I been out? Well, at least I'm not dead.

A pair of boots come into view, attached to baggy pants and a sheepskin coat. The weathered face beneath unkempt, gray-white hair is unmistakable.

"Dworkin?"

"The one and only. Come on, child, let's get inside and have a hot cup of tea. It's too cold to be napping on bare rock." His hand reaches down and lifts her effortlessly to her feet, holding her upright against the betrayal of her pins-and-needles legs.

Turning about, she gasps in shock. Red-pink, the Pattern glows with eternal fire, and she feels its presence like a sound in her mind. This must be the...the Primal Pattern...

[chalice]

Turning about, she gasps in shock. Red-pink, the Pattern glows with eternal fire, and she feels its presence like a sound in her mind. This must be the...the Primal Pattern..."Ohhhhh..."

For a few heart-stopping moments, all Gray can do is stare in awe, letting the power and beauty wash over and through her, fire reflected in her eyes and tears pouring silently down her face.

You are so beautiful, she says to it in her mind. Had I died, it would have been worth it, for this.

Enraptured as she is, she still allows herself to be led away by Dworkin, grateful for his support as returning circulation brings her painfully back to her own small self in a thousand tiny pinpricks.

Still sounding half-dazed, she murmurs "What..happened to me, Dworkin? I thought I was dying...This place - this is the true Pattern, isn't it? Why am I here?"

[Wired*Nun]

Leading her into a cave, they pass through a door and into a comfortable living-room, reminding her of the stories of gnomes living in cozy holes in the ground. "You will have to tell me how you came to be here, miss. Then I might be able to tell you why." He leads her to a comfortable chair by a crackling fire, sets a crocheted afghan over her legs, and pours two mugs of hot chocolate from a vacuum pitcher. "All the comforts of home," he says as he hands her one. "You can start by telling me your name."

[chalice]

But - I thought he must have brought me here...somehow...

"Thank you." Gray wraps both hands gratefully around the mug, still shivering a little but feeling the dreadful, bone-deep chill thaw in the blessed warmth of the fire.

"My name is Agraynel," she begins, softly. "But most people make it just Gray.

"And I don't know how I got here. I was walking the Pattern - trying to - hoping it would heal my mind...but I - fell off." She bites her lip. "At the First Veil."

One hand comes up to touch her temple briefly, and she grimaces at remembered pain.

"I had an enchantment in my mind, helping me to -to control my shapeshifting, and stay calm...but it was set by one of Chaos, and when I hit the Veil, it...disintegrated, I think. It was - agony. I never knew anything could hurt so much. And then everything rushed back at once, and I lost control and I...fell." Her face reflects the terror and despair of that moment.

And I should feel ashamed of failing, and of being so afraid, but somehow I don't sense that he is judging me...I feel...safe...how strange

"When I came round, I was where you found me." Gray begins to shiver again, and not from the cold this time.

"I should be dead. I d-don't understand why I'm not."

[Wired*Nun]

At the mention of her name, Dworkin nods, as if in recognition, and peers at her more closely. After she finishes, he nods again. "Yes, yes, I see it now. My grandson' Eric's lost daughter, yes, I have your Trump around here somewhere..." He shuffles his chair around to reach into a pile of papers, cards, and other objects spilling across a table, magically locating one in the mess and looking at it. "Yes, that's you, you see! I knew I had it somewhere." He hands it to her, and she examines it in wonder.


Held one way, it shows her as a young woman, perhaps sixteen, reaching above her head to pick some flowers on a trellis. Held a slightly different way, her form changes, grows, into that of a sleek she-wolf, leaping upwards to snap at a bunch of grapes. Another way, and she appears as a ferocious weir, claws slashing at a grizzly bear. She's never seen a Trump even remotely like it.

"You're not dead because the Pattern apparently doesn't want you dead. I must admit I had some small say in that," he says with a sniff and a joking preen, "as what with all the abuse of the thing, I thought it best to ask it to send anyone who fails it to me, rather than destroying them outright, then I can make a recommendation." He smiles again, and his face lights up like the grandfather of all grandfathers.

"So here you are, to brighten up an old man's home. Tell me your tale, child, and well see what old Dworkin can do to fix you up."

[chalice]

At the mention of her name, Dworkin nods, as if in recognition, and peers at her more closely. After she finishes, he nods again. "Yes, yes, I see it now. My grandson' Eric's lost daughter, yes, I have your Trump around here somewhere..." He shuffles his chair around to reach into a pile of papers, cards, and other objects spilling across a table, magically locating one in the mess and looing at it. "Yes, that's you, you see! I knew I had it somewhere." He hands it to her, and she examines it in wonder.

Held one way, it shows her as a young woman, perhaps sixteen, reaching above her head to pick some flowers on a trellis. Held a slightly different way, her form changes, grows, into that of a sleek she-wolf, leaping upwards to snap at a bunch of grapes. Another way, and she appears as a ferocious weir, claws slashing at a grizzly bear. She's never seen a Trump even remotely like it.“This is...amazing,” she breathes. “Beautiful. It’s – why, it’s like magic!” A childlike delight softens her features, making her look very young and – just for that moment – beautiful herself.

Then she blushes.

“I’m sorry, that was a silly thing to say. I know the Art is a thing far beyond mere magic.” Trust me to say the wrong thing.

With a wistful sigh, she hands the astonishing thing back to its creator.



"You're not dead because the Pattern apparently doesn't want you dead. I must admit I had some small say in that," he says with a sniff and a joking preen, "as what with all the abuse of the thing, I thought it best to ask it to send anyone who fails it to me, rather than destroying them outright, then I can make a recommendation." He smiles again, and his face lights up like the grandfather of all grandfathers.

"So here you are, to brighten up and old man's home. Tell me your tale, child, and well see what old Dworkin can do to fix you up."Gray’s answering smile lights up her own pale features in response.

“It’s not a very long story, really,” she confesses ruefully “it seems I managed to spend around two hundred years asleep…”

Where to begin? At the beginning, fool.

“I was born in a Shadow of Amber, one that my father had sought out for himself long ago, and where he married my mother, Vivien. She was of the weir, and it was clear almost as soon as I was born that she had handed the Gift down to me. I learned to run with the Pack as easily as I learned to walk among men. I never questioned it – it was just…natural to me. Even though for most of my packmates the Gift appeared much later, after their twelfth or thirteenth winter.

“With me – I think because of my Amber blood – the Gift went further. I found out early that I could take other shapes, learn to talk with other animals.”

She smiles reminiscently, thinking back to the great gray owl who taught her the ways of flight. “I was eleven when I found Killian. He couldn’t fly; one of his wings got broken in a storm. I was always bringing back strays to my tower, so no one really noticed that I’d added an owl to the collection. Anyway, I wanted to help him, but I didn’t understand his wing structure well enough just from books. So I learned how to turn myself into an owl, and I broke my wing in the same place and watched it heal – and then I was able to mend his wing. I’d learned already that I could use the Gift to change and heal others.”

Listening to her own words, Gray pauses, looking faintly embarrassed. “Um, it seemed quite a logical way of doing things when I was eleven…” she adds, just a trifle defensively.

“Killian taught me to fly, and that summer I did almost nothing else – but I didn’t tell anyone. I wasn’t sure how mother would feel about non-weir shaping, and father was away. He came back unexpectedly, and I wasn’t there to greet him. When I told him it was because I had been flying he didn’t believe me at first; then, when I showed him I was speaking the truth, he was pleased. Pleased but kind of worried too – even a little afraid, I think.

“I wasn’t afraid,” no, I didn’t have enough sense to be afraid, “and when I realised that this was a talent no one else could offer him, I took the Gift as far and as fast as I could. I hoped it would make me valuable to him – maybe even make up for me not being a son.”

She falls silent, looking into the fire. Oh, Landon, where are you now? What would you and he have made of one another? He wanted a son so much…

“Four years later, when I walked the Pattern for the first – well, only – time, then I was afraid. My Gift went wild, out of my control, and I took shapes I had never even seen in dreams as I walked forward. By the time I reached the centre, I could only just remember what I really looked like. What it felt like to be me, Gray.

“Back home, I found that changes came more easily than ever, tiny changes happening almost all the time, reacting to my thoughts, or surroundings, or feelings. And it still felt natural. It felt good. Until Corwin-” she swallows. “Until Corwin invoked his Blood Curse against my father.

“After that I – I started to see things in a different way. I saw how much my talent cut me off from normal people, how even mother was afraid of me, at heart. I couldn’t feel my connection to the Pack anymore, and our cubs would no longer come to me for healing or tales. I started to lose control, let changes happen when they wanted to. Everything in the whole world seemed to be darker, somehow, and I couldn’t think straight for fear of…well, of everything. Every corner was full of shadows, every shadow full of horror.

“Even my painting, my music – even they were poisoned, twisted. I couldn’t create anything pure. Anything right.

“The voices started then, quiet at first, but soon my body was shifting to match them…I took shapes out of nightmare…father sent me doctors, mentalists, shamans, even exorcists, but none of them could help, though they could all assure him that I was indeed as mad as he feared.

“I’m not sure when rage started to replace fear. I grew filled with the urge for violence, for blood – craved it like some foul drug. The frenzy could take away the fear, for a time. I was possessed by the urge to hurt, to destroy, and my body followed through, I couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop myself. And I did hurt people. My own people, who looked to me for protection.”

She closes her eyes, flinching from the memory, then opens them again and looks back at Dworkin, a world of pain in their hyacinth depths.

“I killed people,” she says, flatly.

“In the end, father had to imprison me in my tower, chained with steel and bound with enchantments. He was the only one I would let near me and he just – he couldn’t be there all the time. I had no one to talk to but myself, and the voices in my head started screaming at each other in the emptiness. I would go away, right inside my mind, into the dark, so I didn’t have to listen to them, or feel the pain of the Curse…deprived of any outward target, the violence turned inward, against my own body. It was like being eaten alive. The frenzy destroying, and my healing instincts repairing, over and over…I wanted to die, but I couldn’t. I just crept towards it by inches.

“Then, right at the end, father came back one last time. Time was a thing he had run out of, Amber and the War demanded it all, and he knew I was close to being lost. He took the Jewel, and his magic, and worked the enchantment that I lay under for the next two hundred years. He said it would be like falling asleep, until he could come and wake me and make me well. I’m sure” almost sure “that’s what he meant it to be like, but it - wasn’t. There was awareness, from time to time, there was knowing that I was held helpless. Hopeless. And there were…dreams.”

A burning log shifts in the fireplace, and the small shower of sparks seems to bring Gray back from somewhere far away.

“Father couldn’t wake me again, because he was dead. But eventually, just a few days ago” I can’t believe it’s only a few days “Landon came, and released me. I thought at first I was well again, but I’m not.” She looks miserably at the grandfatherly figure opposite. “I’m not. The voices still come, and some of them – some of them seem stronger than me. And my body began to follow them again. Then, when I was taken to Chaos, I really began to lose control, and Mandor did something that shut them up, and took the feelings away, and it felt so good. Bill thought walking the Pattern might make me whole again, and I so wanted to be, so much that I guess I did something really stupid…maybe I should have asked someone to remove the enchantment, but I was afraid that without it, I would never be able to focus enough to even make the attempt…”

Something Dworkin said earlier, which has been scratching at her mind, finally makes its way clear, and interrupts Gray's story. Her eyes widen.

“You said, you asked the Pattern to send failures here? You can talk to it? Then – could you tell it that...some people...are planning to try to weaken it by destroying its reflections? Please?" An expression of chagrin - almost self-disgust - crosses her face. "I should have told you that first, instead of just talking about myself. I'm sorry, Dworkin."

She shakes her head. "It feels..really presumptuous, calling you by name. But 'Great-Grandfather' is such a horrible mouthful." She looks at him shyly. "Do you think I could - would you mind if I just called you 'Grandfather'?"

[Wired*Nun]

With a wistful sigh, she hands the astonishing thing back to its creator."I'll just put that up here where I won't forget about it this time," he says, placing on a shelf at the top of his reach.

"You may call me whatever you like, just don't call me late for dinner, oh no. Dworkin will do nicely, I never really was the family type, believe it or not. A failing of mine, I'm afraid. Oh, no, one son was enough, and I'm sure Oberon's mother thought so too."

“You said, you asked the Pattern to send failures here? You can talk to it? Then – could you tell it that...some people...are planning to try to weaken it by destroying its reflections? Please?"
"Shhhh! That's the last thing I want it to know! Do you inform the tree that is to be pruned? Do you ask the sheep if it wishes to be shorn? No, that's not a good metaphor, let me think... Do you think the rabbits would choose to let the wolves cull them? But if they didn't, they would breed and eat everything, overrun everything! Oh, I'm not making much sense, am I. I'm sorry, ever since the Spill and the the repair, my mind's not been what it once was. But I'm all I've got, and it's all it's got, if you get my meaning."

“With me – I think because of my Amber blood – the Gift went furtherDworkin stands up and begins to pace, energetic, almost agitated, as if giving a sermon, or teaching a class, as if working it out aloud. "It wasn't your Amber blood that took you so far beyond the pale shadow of the gift that those around you had - it was your Chaos blood. Oh, yes, we all have it. It is reorganized, reformed, overwritten, if you will, by the Pattern, but it is there nonetheless - and you discovered your talents long before the Pattern got ahold of you. Yes, your Chaos blood, that's what it's all about, that's the key, that's the lynchpin to the whole thing, don't you see?"

"A blood curse is a deal with the devil, it takes and twists your deepest desires back upon you to wound you, that's why it's so terrifying. Doubly so because Corwin and Eric were of the same mind, yes, where Chaos was concerned. Both of them hated and feared all that Chaos stood for, never knowing that was where I came from, where they came from, in the ultimate sense, don't you see? And Corwin's contribution was only the first tragedy to befall us." He stops in front of Gray and stares at her now, mingled pity, horror and sorrow in his eyes, his hands held out to her as if to a small child.

"Eric cursed the enemies of Amber when he died, which were of Chaos. I am so sorry, granddaughter. It was Eric's curse that finished you off, don't you see?"

[chalice]

Dworkin stands up and begins to pace, energetic, almost agitated, as if giving a sermon, or teaching a class, as if working it out aloud. "It wasn't your Amber blood that took you so far beyond the pale shadow of the gift that those around you had - it was your Chaos blood. Oh, yes, we all have it. It is reorganized, reformed, overwritten, if you will, by the Pattern, but it is there nonetheless - and you discovered your talents long before the Pattern got ahold of you. Yes, your Chaos blood, that's what it's all about, that's the key, that's the lynchpin to the whole thing, don't you see?"

"A blood curse is a deal with the devil, it takes and twists your deepest desires back upon you to wound you, that's why it's so terrifying. Doubly so because Corwin and Eric were of the same mind, yes, where Chaos was concerned. Both of them hated and feared all that Chaos stood for, never knowing that was where I came from, where they came from, in the ultimate sense, don't you see? And Corwin's contribution was only the first tragedy to befall us." He stops in front of Gray and stares at her now, mingled pity, horror and sorrow in his eyes, his hands held out to her as if to a small child.

"Eric cursed the enemies of Amber when he died, which were of Chaos. I am so sorry, granddaughter. It was Eric's curse that finished you off, don't you see?"Horror, rejection, agony...Grays' expression changes faster by the second as she searches desperately for the safe, dark place in her mind and finds it no longer there. Deprived of escape, she has no choice but to face her inner demons as they close in on her.

With a cry of pain more animal than human, she reaches like a drowning thing for Dworkin's outstretched hands, holding on with a strength that would crush ordinary flesh and bone as she falls to her knees. Half-formed words in Thari mingle with French, English, animal tongues, to match her body's half-taken forms as her Gift rages faster...stranger...unearthly beauty followed by dark horrors...hopelessly trying to escape what she feels in her blood and being to be the truth.

A timeless time later, when she reaches a state of blessed exhaustion, Dworkin finds himself holding the slight, trembling form of a ten-year-old girl.

She looks up, and there is nothing childlike about the bleakness in her ice-grey eyes.

"They're all quiet," she says, wonderingly. "They're all afraid except me."

[Wired*Nun]

"That's because only a child could adapt to this kind of abuse..." comes his whisper. Dworkin's eyes are so kind, so kind as he holds her hands. "The things we do to our children in the name of 'what must be done.' The things I've done..."

The tears on his face run into his beard, and he gives a little giggle and a snort. "Aren't we a pair. But my dear, I do understand. There was a hole in my mind, and the rain came in...and it's all patched now, but it still sort of itches." He smiles again, wiping his cheeks with the back of one hand.

"You are a very brave girl, who has had very bad things happen, and it's not fair, and it's not your fault. It's not...your...fault." He gathers little Gray into his arms and holds her gently, weeping, both of them of a height, almost. After a moment, he looks in her eyes again.

"The Pattern can't help you, little one. Not without wiping away who you are. I will do what I can, but I am notoriously bad at choosing the wisest course for other people. I'll try to help." He closes his eyes for a moment, as if thinking, or praying - or maybe there is no difference for a creator of universes. Opening them again, he looks over her shoulder at something - someone?

"There's someone you need to meet."

Turning, releasing one hand, she sees, standing behind her, as if he just stepped into the room like it was yesterday, her father.

Daddy-

[chalice]

Turning, releasing one hand, she sees, standing behind her, as if he just stepped into the room like it was yesterday, her father.

Daddy-"Daddy!" Gray squeals, throwing herself at the figure, waiting to be caught and spun round like always, wrapping her small arms tight around his neck.

"Don't be sad, Daddy. I know you didn't mean to hurt me! I still love you!"

[Wired*Nun]

"Gray...sweetheart..." Spinning her round and round, he finally slows and bumps his nose against hers. "You look different." A puzzlement appears in his eyes, and he looks past her to Dworkin. "Dworkin. I don't understand what I'm doing here."

"You're here to talk with your daughter, silly man. First, you need to drink this." Dworkin hands him a mug like the one with the hot chocolate.

"And why should I do that, old man?" Gray well remembers that tone - impatient, irritable, almost never taken with her - but with others, well remembered.

"Don't talk back to your grandfather, boy, I'm not in the mood." The snap of command is unmistakable, and Dworkin seems to grow several inches as he's speaking. He's kind of like daddy too, when he's peeved...

Eric looks suddenly uncertain, and says, "Grandfather...I know that now, but I didn't...until you told me. What is going on here? Has someone tampered with my mind?"

"Drink it, and I'll explain, and then you have to help your daughter."

"Of course, of course...I'll do anything for her...what's wrong with her?"

"DRINK!" Dworkin roars.

"All right, all right!" He upends the mug, wiping his lips of a reddish tinge and slamming the mug down on the table. "Oh...I do feel better now...I'm...I'm not..."

"Maybe you should keep that to yourself until you've worked it all out in your head, now there's a good boy. For now, take some time, and talk to your daughter. There is nothing pressing now. Random is on the Throne, I am here at the Primal Pattern, and there is nothing you need worry about. You have all the time in the world."

"All right. All right...Gray, what would you like to do? Take a walk? Ride horses? Go on a picnic? Anything you like." His face lights up as he smiles at her, and bounces her slightly in his arms.

[chalice]

"All right. All right...Gray, what would you like to do? Take a walk? Ride horses? Go on a picnic? Anything you like." His face lights up as he smiles at her, and bounces her slightly in his arms.
"Walk," decides Gray happily,wriggling out of her father's arms to stand on her own feet but keeping tight hold of his hand. "In the snow!" she adds, tugging him towards the door. "Will you teach me to find snow, daddy?"

Belatedly remembering her manners, she turns back and smiles at Dworkin.

"Thankyouverymuchforhavingme!" she says in one breath, before tugging her father out of the door. Her young voice carries back from the corridor, chattering happily.

"He's nice. He has a funny mind, like me. And he has lovely hot chocolate. Why didn't you want yours...?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Haha, all right, Gray, all right. In the snow. You can find all the snow you like."

Walking out, hand in hand, he goes on, "Yes, he's very nice to little girls and animals, but he gave daddy a grownup drink...kind of like medicine, that didn't taste very good, but he knew I needed."

Out the cave door and into the cold, Gray finds herself in warm sheepskin clothes. Turning upwards, she sees Eric has the same kind of outfitting. They begin to hike up the rocky slope, and it's not long before they come to a hill and meadow covered with a foot of snow - not too deep, but plenty to play in.

Falling into the snow, Eric makes a quick snow angel, then stands up, brushing off the white stuff and surveying his work. "Well, good to know a wraith has that much solidity, at least...go on, Gray, make one too!"

[chalice]

"Falling into the snow, Eric makes a quick snow angel, then stands up, brushing off the white stuff and surveying his work. "Well, good to know a wraith has that much solidity, at least...go on, Gray, make one too!"Several snow cherubs later, Gray looks up mischievously at Eric.

"Want to see me really be an angel? I bet I could! Want to see, daddy?"

Without waiting for a response, she reaches for the shining form in her imagination and allows the vision free rein with her body.

"See!!!" demands a slightly smaller Gray, white-feathered wings sparkling in the weak sunlight, spinning round to show off, losing her balance and sitting down hard in the snow, giggling...

Her young face is radiant, but an anxious something frozen deep in her splintered-ice eyes says please still love me

Suddenly serious, she asks "Daddy, you - you wouldn't ever hurt me on purpose, would you?" Those misfit eyes search his face solemnly. "You didn't mean to make me sick, did you?"

[Wired*Nun]

Falling to his knees before her, tears mingling with the snow scattered on his face, he whispers, "Oh, no, honey, never on purpose, no...I am so sorry, I love you so much but, sometimes things don't work the way we want them to. Remember when you found that baby bird, when you were very small? And you picked it up and brought it to me, not knowing that its mother wouldn't help it with your smell on it? And how sad you were when it...didn't live? That's how I feel, and a thousand times worse, because of what happened to you."

Taking her hands in his, he goes on earnestly, "I loved your mother so much, and you too, and I tried to protect you. But there was something bad, something so strong that I couldn't protect you from it, and I didn't know what to do. Bad things were happening, and I thought that you could just...sleep through the bad times until the good times came again, and we could find a way to make the bad times go away."

But they never did...

"But they never did." Now the tears flow in rivulets and streams, as he gathers his little angel into his arms again. "I hated the bad people so much, so much that my hate overflowed onto everything, and everyone, and it's still hanging around, like a nasty smell. I'm not sure what to do about it, but I think it has something to do with you. I think..." He catches himself, and stares at her. "I think right now that we just need to spend some time together, like Grandfather said. We can fix the universe later. Right now, we need to just fix ourselves..." his voice trailing off in a whisper.

[chalice]

"Daddy, don't cry!" begs Gray in alarm, reaching one tiny hand to touch her father's face, licking the tears away like a puppy. "Don't be sad, I'll take care of you. We'll take care of each other! And we'll fix things, ok? We will. Now I know you didn't mean it, I don't mind about anything else." A world of determination behind those eyes now, as she leans up to kiss him soundly.

"Here - I know something to cheer you up - I've got a brother! His name's Landon, and he came and rescued me! I've got a picture of him - do you want to see?"

Freeing one hand to rummage in her small collection of Trumps, she finds the one of Landon that Flora lent her and holds it out for him to look at.

"And he's got a friend called Arthur, and he's really clever, and he always smells really good...." Gray chatters on, relating the little she has learned about Landon in the short time they travelled together, trying to distract her father from his sad thoughts.

[Wired*Nun]

"Daddy, don't cry!" begs Gray in alarm, reaching one tiny hand to touch her father's face, licking the tears away like a puppy. "Don't be sad, I'll take care of you. We'll take care of each other! And we'll fix things, ok? We will. Now I know you didn't mean it, I don't mind about anything else." A world of determination behind those eyes now, as she leans up to kiss him soundly.

"It's all right, little wolf, not all tears are bad. We all have to cry sometime, because if we don't we'll pop from the strain!" He laughs a little, wiping his face with his hands again.



"Here - I know something to cheer you up - I've got a brother! His name's Landon, and he came and rescued me! I've got a picture of him - do you want to see?"

"Landon?" The surprise on his face is plain to see. "That sneaky b- b- brother? Your brother..." He takes the card and looks at it wonderingly. "Well, that's wonderful, honey, that's wonderful." His bemused look goes unnoticed to her child's mind as she chatters away. "I'd love to meet them sometime...do you think he'd mind?"

[chalice]

"Landon?" The surprise on his face is plain to see. "That sneaky b- b- brother? Your brother..." He takes the card and looks at it wonderingly. "Well, that's wonderful, honey, that's wonderful." His bemused look goes unnoticed to her child's mind as she chatters away. "I'd love to meet them sometime...do you think he'd mind?"
" 'Course not. I bet he'd like it! Want me to call him?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Sure, sweetie, if it's what you want. That is, if you want him with us now, or later. Whatever you want!"

[chalice]

"Sure, sweetie, if it's what you want. That is, if you want him with us now, or later. Whatever you want!"Gray hesitates just for a moment, tempted to keep her father all to herself one last time, then looks a little ashamed of being selfish.

"Now! Then we can all figure everything out together!" she says, her tone implying that together they could, of course, take on the world before breakfast.

And she concentrates on the card. "Landon...Landon! Are you there??? Tell Corwin to let you come talk to Daddy and me..."

[Wired*Nun]

There is a fleeting contact with Landon, just long enough for Gray to feel a backlash of terrible pain. Landon's face swims before her for a moment, then cuts off abruptly. He doesn't want to talk to me? Ooohh, that hurt so much, worse than...anything! Confused, she stares at the cold Trump.

[chalice]

There is a fleeting contact with Landon, just long enough for Gray to feel a backlash of terrible pain. Landon's face swims before her for a moment, then cuts off abruptly. He doesn't want to talk to me? Ooohh, that hurt so much, worse than...anything! Confused, she stares at the cold Trump.Gray's face crumples with the effort of not bursting into tears.

"It hurt," she whispers. "I saw him, then it hurt and he went away...it really, really hurt, Daddy..."

"Did I do something wrong?" she looks up at him, bewildered and upset.

"Let's both try!"

She is already concentrating on the card again.

Gray is keen to try again, with all her strength, trying to be ready for the pain this time.

If Eric says no, leave it a while, she'll do that, though obviously worried about Landon. She'll make periodic new attempts to contact him as she and her father walk and talk...and throw snowballs...

[Wired*Nun]

Holding her hand, Eric tries with her. Just for a moment, there is a feeling of contact, at the end of a long tunnel, and pain..."He's unconscious, I think he's in shock. Do you have any idea where he is? We might need to help him somehow." He looks at her intently, obviously concerned, but trying not to pressure her too much.

"Is he with Corwin?"

[chalice]

Holding her hand, Eric tries with her. Just for a moment, there is a feeling of contact, at the end of a long tunnel, and pain..."He's unconscious, I think he's in shock. Do you have any idea where he is? We might need to help him somehow." He looks at her intently, obviously concerned, but trying not to pressure her too much.

"Is he with Corwin?"
Gray nods, biting her lip. "I think so. But I haven't got a picture of Corwin."

[Wired*Nun]

"Ahh, well, that's all right. Do you think Grandfather might have a picture? I think we need to try to help him..." Getting to his feet, he holds out her hand. "Let's go back and see him, shall we?"

Walking back down the mountainside, he is quiet, letting Gray natter on and responding absentmindedly. He's worried about Landon, she realizes. It isn't long before they are down out of the snow and back to the plateau of the Primal Pattern. It's morning now, and a bit warmer, though still cold.

Knocking on Dworkin's door at the end of the tunnel, they wait for a moment. No one answers, and finally, Eric pushes the door open. The fire is almost out, and he throws a couple of split logs on it and stirs the coals to life, after plopping Gray into her chair and putting the blanket over her again. He then rummages around in Dworkin's mess for almost half an hour, muttering under his breath. He tosses aside Trump after Trump, pocketing several, until he finally comes up with the one he needs. "Ha! Here it is."

Sitting down next to Gray, he holds out Corwin's Trump for her to take. "Why don't you try, and I'll just look from over here. Uncle Corwin and I didn't get along very well back then, so maybe you should talk to him first. Can you do that, sweetie?"

[chalice]

Sitting down next to Gray, he holds out Corwin's Trump for her to take. "Why don't you try, and I'll just look from over here. Uncle Corwin and I didn't get along very well back then, so maybe you should talk to him first. Can you do that, sweetie?"
But Corwin's so scary... but Landon's hurt...just think about Landon and don't be a little coward

"I think I can," she whispers, taking the card and beginning to concentrate on it.

[Wired*Nun]

The contact resolves easily, and she sees him sitting in a rocking chair, on what appears to be the front porch of a painted wooden house. "Hi there," he says. He doesn't look so scary. "What's a nice girl like you doing in a Trump like this?"

[chalice]

The contact resolves easily, and she sees him sitting in a rocking chair, on what appears to be the front porch of a painted wooden house. "Hi there," he says. He doesn't look so scary. "What's a nice girl like you doing in a Trump like this?"
Gray freezes for a moment I think I'm going to be sick then finds her tongue.

"I n-need to find Landon. He's really, really hurt. And I could make him all better but now he's gone unconscious..." her lower lip trembles and she blinks back tears. "And Rebis said he was with you and daddy said I should talk to you first 'cause you and him don't like each other...but...will you help?"

She swallows, and adds with visible effort. "Please?"

[Wired*Nun]

Corwin's brows furrow with confusion, but his eyes are smiling. "Thank you very much for your concern, and I've got Landon under a good physician's care right now, so there's nothing to worry about. If you want to see him, I can call you back when I am with him, if you have a Trump of yourself. What is your name? Have we met? And who is your daddy that I don't get along with?"

[chalice]

Gray shakes her head regretfully, finding herself shyly half smiling in return. "I do want to see him but there's only three Trumps of me, and Dworkin, Asmundson and Arrotel have them. I'm Agraynel and Landon's my brother and daddy's name is Eric and I've sort of met you 'cause I used to dream about you a lot, but you haven't met me," she pauses, frowning a little, considering him. "Not properly."

She shivers, remembering. "You did see me once, just for a moment" that lasted forever "You were lots, lots scarier then...and I was...different...and you made me really sick..."

Her bright face shadows for a moment, then she smiles at him hopefully. "But I'm getting well now. And I don't think you're scary anymore."

- She looks away slightly "He says Landon's alright, daddy. Do you want to talk to him now?" -

then shifts her attention back to Corwin.

"Anyway, I bet I could make Landon better quicker than your ol' doctor...bet you anything...and daddy wanted to meet him...couldn't we go with you and see him?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Oh, my," Corwin says. "Oh, my. You do look a bit different than I expected. I do apologise for what I did to you and your father. I wish...I could apologise to him personally."

"Anyway, I bet I could make Landon better quicker than your ol' doctor...bet you anything...and daddy wanted to meet him...couldn't we go with you and see him?"

"I bet you just could. Perhaps you should let me talk to your father, and we'll see what we should do." Assuming Gray clues Eric in to join the conversation:

The two men look at each other for a very long moment through the Trump. Finally, Corwin stretches out his hand. The other man smiles broadly and takes it, and never a kiss displayed as much emotion as that simple act.

"I'm think I know what you are, and I just want to say, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for my blind ambition, and I'm sorry for making you the object of my hatred. I know Dad pushed us into it, but I'm sorry for my part in it." Corwin's eyes are full, and that shadow of pain now rests fully on his face.

"I'm sorry too, for...for your eyes, for everything. I'm sure he would say the same thing, were he standing here. Dworkin brought me here for healing, and I'm going to do my best, especially for my daughter...and my son. I hear he is injured?"

"Yes, and badly, but he will pull through. I'm sure he would be happy to see his sister and...father as well."

Eric frowns. "I'm actually not certain that I can go through one of these things...and the master isn't around right now to ask about it. Maybe it would be best if you and Landon came here."

"Yes, and tell Corwin to bring that sister of his, she has a little bauble I'll be needing!" The voice from behind Gray is cheerful, and Dworkin brushes off snow from his sheepskin trousers and jacket.

"Ah, he just came in, in fact. Dworkin says to bring your sister and her bauble, whatever that means. Ah, Dworkin...what will happen if Corwin tries to use Eric's Trump now?"

"Well," Dworkin says thoughtfully, "He'll either reach you, or another Eric. Thanks for reminding me, I'll make sure it's you."

"He says it should work. Call me when you're ready."

"All right," Corwin says. "I have a few things to prepare, then I will call you and bring Landon and Coral. We might have a few more guests, and large dogs...better tell whoever is hosting this shindig to prepare enough space. Is there anything else?"

"Not for me, Gray?"

[chalice]

Little Gray watches her father and his brother make up their quarrel with a radiant face, the frozen silver eyes at last melting to shining lavender as she gives them each a smile of pure joy.

"Hurry up, Uncle Corwin! We can have a party!"

[Wired*Nun]

The grin that melted queens' hearts appears briefly on Corwin's face, then melts into a more gentle smile at Gray. "I will hurry, Agraynel, I surely will. See you soon." He covers the card with his hand.

"All right, no time to sit around, if it's family reunions we're doing, best get cracking!" Dworkin claps his hands loudly and herds the two down a passageway into a little-used section of his underground lair. Panelling and marble cover the native stone, and Dworkin sets them both to work sweeping, dusting, preparing and cleaning several guests rooms. This takes several hours.

[chalice]

Gray helps out enthusiastically, getting covered in dust and cobwebs (especially her wings, to which she is still very attached), and singing happily and nonsensically whenever she isn't chattering nineteen-to-the-dozen to her father and Dworkin.

[Wired*Nun]

The work done, the three retire to Dworkin's kitchen for beer, bread and cheese, juice for Gray, and then to his study, where the two men share a pipe. "Sorry, I'm not sure where any others are."

A moment later, Eric holds up a hand, stands, and pulls Corwin and Landon through. He clasps hands with Corwin, then Landon. He looks as if he would hug Landon, but is unsure of what reaction to expect.