Agraynel

[Icebird]

Arrotel at first pushes hard against the contact, then lightens up to a more normal tone as Gray appears. At the top of his mind and harder to ignore than to read are disappointment, anger, and a hint of desperation.

"Bring me through, explanations soon."

The hand he reaches out with is covered in blood, and has a rather nasty hole in it. Relief covers his face as he arrives, and calling Telloth, Arrotel brings him through as well. He only then takes a moment to look at the surroundings, noticing Eric for the first time.

"Eric, I presume? Nice to meet you, but I had though you to be... well... dead. Regardless, house Heldrake just attacked the keep, we defended and lost. Kat taken prisoner, don't know where Rae is, Roland and Rebis just surrendered, and Heldrick and Josh are unconscious."

[chalice]

Having brought Arrotel through and heard this summary at ;east as far as the name 'Heldrik', Gray leaves further questions to her father and brother, shuffles out Roland's Trump from her nascent deck, and concentrates real hard.

[TreyKincaide]

Landon looses his balance as Gray backs away barely catching himself from hitting her unexpectedly as she backs off. He shoots her a somewhat questioning glance, nods the affirmative, and steps back grabbing his shirt to hide the look on his face.

So much for discretion. Hiding being alive is pretty hard when you accept Trump contacts. I didn't particularly want to run into to anyone else. So much for a quiet afternoon in the park.

Landon glances at Eric for a moment as he redresses back to the new arrival and notices Arrotel's lack of greeting. He says nothing in response to Eric's state of being. He turns and his eyes widen as he looks over his cousin seeing his wound and listens quietly to the summary.

I failed. Fuck. Seems that my part was a precursor to a bigger push. A feint and little more. Looks like it's time to go back to work.

"Slow down, and catch your breath. Can you tell us what happened?" Landon asks stoically. Assuming that Arrotel will do so he turns to Eric, "I must apologize for running off in midst of our little outing, but it seems that something's afoot. I must see to certain interests," he gestures towards Helena with his eyes. "If you all will excuse me, I'll call you when I get things sorted out." he smiles politely. At that he flicks out a Trump of Corwin and tries to make contact.

[Wired*Nun]

(bad kyboard and bad internet prevent me from doing much more here - too complex. I think it will have to wait for when I get home)

The Trump call to Roland seems to go through for a moment, then is cut off abruptly.

Eric raises an eyebrow at Arrotel, and says, "And hello to you, too. Having some trouble?"

[chalice]

[fixed - GM]

Roland, bring me- Gray tries to say, before the contact is cut.

She curses in a mixture of canid and human. Then she turns on Arrotel, eyes blazing with fury and contempt. Her voice is like cut glass.

"Let me test my understanding. You had wounded, and you left them there to make your own escape. And you used me to break surrender after Roland had given it, even though our companions may pay the price for your...action?" she spits the last word, as if she would have preferred to use a stronger.

A visible trembling though her whole body shows the effort it is taking not to simply fly at him.

[Icebird]

The shock of Gray's anger makes Arrotel gape- he responds by turning to lessons and words learned long ago, repeating them in a monotone:

"The first duty of a prisoner is to escape. By surrendering, I became a prisoner, so I escaped. My duty, their duty."

Ah, that's a shitty excuse. What if they do pay for it? How could I live with that? Duty? Pfwa. Duty to who- myself? Amber? Certainly not those I left behind... Why can't I ever think of these things beforehand? Too many questions, and none of them would really have stopped me from doing what I did.

[chalice]

With an effort, Gray turns away from him, and concentrates one more time with all her strength on Roland's Trump, hoping that if she can make just brief contact again, and he heard the few words she managed before, he might be ready to grab for her this time.

If, if, if...not much chance...but it's keeping me from Arrotel's throat...

[Wired*Nun]

Contact seems blocked to Roland...

Eric steps up beside Gray and puts a finger on the card. "Logrus block," he says. To her questioning look, he shrugs. "I don't know how I know...must be my...construction, or something." To Arrotel, he says with a shake of his head, "Don't let it bother you too much, kid. That's a tough choice - stay and share their fate, or get out while you can and try to help. If you didn't, we wouldn't know, would we? And trusting to the honor of Chaos is like trusting an icy pond in springtime - might hold you, might not." A sidelong glance at Gray tells her that some of that is for her benefit as well. "Sometimes the mistakes of youth work out all right, and sometimes you just learn from them...and sometimes they aren't mistakes at all."

Turning to Landon, and glancing around at the rest, he says, "I think the most important thing to do is for you to decide what to do next."

[chalice]

"If one has given his word on a surrender, then I believe there is no choice," Gray disagrees with Eric. "Perhaps when I have the hindsight you do, I will feel differently, but for now, I beg to differ. What gives us the right to speak so slightingly of 'the honour of Chaos' if we do not carefully keep our own?"

Eric looks taken aback, and something strange flits across his face. "Of course...of course...things would...I mean..." He looks confused, as if trying to gather his thoughts. "It's easy...no, I mean, it's hard...dammit." He turns away. "Get out of my head! Let me be, or unmake me!" He seems to be addressing someone else, and he is shaking.

Turning about, he seizes Gray in a grip of steel. "I need...I need some of your blood. It will help..." He looks sickened, and turns to Landon. "Or yours...it will help me resist..."

[SORRY!]

[TreyKincaide]

Landon stays quiet during Gray's near diatribe and outburst.

I would have thought you a prisoner in your own body for 200 years would understand the need for freedom. I'd do exactly as he did. Honor be damned.

"Rationally, there are only three courses of action. The first two are equally dangerous, equally important, and equally unlikely of success. The third is safer but in my opinion unsatisfying." Landon says before dramatically pausing to collect his thoughts.

"We can not allow the scions of Amber or the Keep of the Four Worlds to remain in the possession of Brand's former allies. They wish to spark off another Patternfall with all that entails. I have a pretty good idea what they have in mind for our cousins and honor aside believe ransom to be an excuse to buy time if they even plan on playing at negotiations. No, they want to pick a fight--one that will rewrite the face of reality." Landon takes a swig from his water skin and scratches his chin.

"The problem is compounded by the fact that they have Rebis who's in direct line of succession for the throne. I don't like the idea, but just because I don't like it doesn't mean that it's an important factor. It could be a ruse, however. Rebis's existence betrays Martin's connections to the Courts, possibly to Dara herself, as he did in Patternfall. Random has yet to name a successor, though."

"So, our cousins must be rescued and the Keep retaken. So we, I, try one or the other. Either action is fairly foolhardy, but maybe few may succeed where many have failed? The alternative is to inform Random and sit on our thumbs while our elders deal with it. They're stretched pretty thin as it is to be honest. Leaving it to them might leave Amber at risk. The alternative is to have Arrotel swear to secrecy about our activities, Eric's and Gray's existence and involvement. He owes her that much for pulling his ass out of the fire. Then encourage him to go Amber to spread the word as we go about our own designs. Another is to send me to Amber with word. It makes little difference to me."

"Suggestions or preferences?"
"Those are our options as I see them.

[Wired*Nun]

“ "If one has given his word on a surrender, then I believe there is no choice," Gray disagrees with Eric. "Perhaps when I have the hindsight you do, I will feel differently, but for now, I beg to differ. What gives us the right to speak so slightingly of 'the honour of Chaos' if we do not carefully keep our own?" ”


Eric looks taken aback, and something strange flits across his face. "Of course...of course...things would...I mean..." He looks confused, as if trying to gather his thoughts. "It's easy...no, I mean, it's hard...dammit." He turns away. "Get out of my head! Let me be, or unmake me!" He seems to be addressing someone else, and he is shaking.

Turning about, he seizes Gray in a grip of steel. "I need...I need some of your blood. It will help..." He looks sickened, and turns to Landon. "Or yours...it will help me resist..."

[SORRY!]

[Wired*Nun]

It is a long time in coming, but finally Corwin answers Landon's Trump call. "I'm a long ways out, Landon, what do you need?" The landscape behind him is strange, with shifting earth and mists,

[chalice]

"Don't let it bother you too much, kid. That's a tough choice - stay and share their fate, or get out while you can and try to help. If you didn't, we wouldn't know, would we? And trusting to the honor of Chaos is like trusting an icy pond in springtime - might hold you, might not." A sidelong glance at Gray tells her that some of that is for her benefit as well.


How quick he is to put me in the wrong...no, it can't be that...he wouldn't do it for the sake of the thing...we really must be far more different than I ever thought...Random was right...I never really knew him...at least, I don't know this...creation


The thought is a dagger of ice through the girl's heart.


"Sometimes the mistakes of youth work out all right, and sometimes you just learn from them...and sometimes they aren't mistakes at all."


And maybe there's no right, and no wrong. Maybe nothing means anything. Yes father. I know.


"If one has given his word on a surrender, then I believe there is no choice," Gray disagrees with Eric. "Perhaps when I have the hindsight you do, I will feel differently, but for now, I beg to differ. What gives us the right to speak so slightingly of 'the honour of Chaos' if we do not carefully keep our own?"

In that moment, Gray looks uncannily like her mother - fierce, arrogant and wilful.


Eric looks taken aback, and something strange flits across his face. "Of course...of course...things would...I mean..." He looks confused, as if trying to gather his thoughts. "It's easy...no, I mean, it's hard...dammit." He turns away. "Get out of my head! Let me be, or unmake me!" He seems to be addressing someone else, and he is shaking.

Turning about, he seizes Gray in a grip of steel. "I need...I need some of your blood. It will help..." He looks sickened, and turns to Landon. "Or yours...it will help me resist..."

[SORRY!]


"Here," urges Gray. She has gone terribly pale, but she slashes unhestitatingly down the veins of her left arm with claws that appear from nowhere at her fingertips, and offers her bloody wrist.

[b]"Leave him alone!" Gray forms the words in her head as well as out loud.

"Leave him alone, or I will hate you forever! You hear me? I'll never come back, and I'll never, ever do what you want!" she too seems to be speaking to someone else, her voice shaking with a childish mix of fear and anger.

[Icebird]

"I have never put much stock in the idea of honor. If I catch someone, I would assume that they would try to escape, and prepare for it, and I would expect anyone who caught me to do the same. They didn't, so I did escape. I have done nothing that I wouldn't want them to do back to me. Silly, isn't it, that I just finished talking about duty?"

So quick to judge... Did you even think about acually being there? How it would feel to acually be there?

"Um, no need for new wounds, I have one bleeding quite enough already open here."

Arrotel holds out his left hand, wincing as Gray cuts her arm open.

[chalice]

"I have never put much stock in the idea of honor. If I catch someone, I would assume that they would try to escape, and prepare for it, and I would expect anyone who caught me to do the same. They didn't, so I did escape. I have done nothing that I wouldn't want them to do back to me. Silly, isn't it, that I just finished talking about duty?"

So quick to judge... Did you even think about acually being there? How it would feel to acually be there?

"You may manage your own honour as you wish, Arrotel." Gray tones her voice down to neutral. "But please do not ever again compromise mine. If I could have reached Roland, I would have taken your place. As it is, I am ashamed. I don't care whether you understand that or not - I only ask you to do me the courtesy of respecting it."

[Eric freaks right about now]

"Um, no need for new wounds, I have one bleeding quite enough already open here."

Arrotel holds out his left hand, wincing as Gray cuts her arm open.

Gray clearly has eyes and ears only for her 'father' at this point, but she manages a "No - I can replace it faster" through gritted teeth in response.

[TreyKincaide]

Landon glances at Helena keeping contact open, gestures her to follow, and steps out of earshot of the rest for some privacy. He returns his attention Corwin. "Well, I'll try to keep this as brief as I can since I can't count on the contact lasting. First, I should...no, " he pauses forcing himself to soldier forth in spite of his pride, "no, I do apologize for my behavior, reactions, and attitudes before. I can't take back what I said. Some I wouldn't if I wanted to. I'd been letting it brew too long, and should have spoke my peace before. It was neither the time nor the place and I'm sorry."

He pauses and smiles. "Didn't know if I'd get another chance to say that and regret is a heavy burden as you well know. Anyway, of less personal and more strategic interest. Gray's horrible at playing dead. Not really possible when you accept Trump calls willy nilly." He shakes his head. "Anyway. It seems that the forces I dealt with were a small ruse. A beginning feint and little else. The Keep has fallen to Hendrake and most of my cousins are their prisoners. We both know both situations are unacceptable. It seems the game has stepped up a notch. I figured that it was about time to call my vacation quits and get back to doing what you pay me for after seeing Helena home."

[Icebird]

Arrotel would clearly like to say more on the honor subject, but he bites his tongue.

Another time, or perhaps never. Different views, different people. Speaking of people... Wonder how Benedict is doing with his hunt? What a thing to call it, a hunt. A hunt for my brother. I'm begining to doubt that he really needs to die. An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, and I'm rather fond of both my eyes and my life.

[Wired*Nun]

Gray clearly has eyes and ears only for her 'father' at this point, but she manages a "No - I can replace it faster" through gritted teeth in response


Eric seizes the proffered limb and drinks like the proverbial vampire, greedily at first, then more sedately for a moment. Finishing, he drops her arm and looks down for a moment, before slowly raising his head to meet her eyes. "Thanks, girl, I needed that like you'll never know. It sneaked up on me...I think It was waiting for a chance, but in a way, It's not very bright...or has only a limited attention for me. I think it was more a reaction than an intention...trying to reabsorb me."

He straightens, shakes and rolls his shoulders and arms. "Ach. Well, let's not let it go that long again, if we can." He pauses, searching her eyes again.

"I also hope you understand something. I loved your mother because she was...better than I was. Had a firmer sense of...moral direction, I guess you might say. I liked that...I like it in you...but sometimes she could be such a noble stubborn pain. It's one thing to hold to your honor, but it's not the same to judge someone else, especially someone young, by your own standards." His quiet smile gentles. "Just...try to evaluate, but remember how you hate being condemned out of hand for your different viewpoint...and remember, I've done things worse than that." He shruggs. "Live and learn."

[Wired*Nun]

Arrotel at first pushes hard against the contact, then lightens up to a more normal tone as Gray appears. At the top of his mind and harder to ignore than to read are disappointment, anger, and a hint of desperation.

"Bring me through, explanations soon."

The hand he reaches out with is covered in blood, and has a rather nasty hole in it. Relief covers his face as he arrives, and calling Telloth, Arrotel brings him through as well. He only then takes a moment to look at the surroundings, noticing Eric for the first time.

"Eric, I presume? Nice to meet you, but I had though you to be... well... dead. Regardless, house Heldrake just attacked the keep, we defended and lost. Kat taken prisoner, don't know where Rae is, Roland and Rebis just surrendered, and Heldrick and Josh are unconscious."

[Telloth is already here - per your post]

[Wired*Nun]

I do apologize for my behavior, reactions, and attitudes before. I can't take back what I said. Some I wouldn't if I wanted to. I'd been letting it brew too long, and should have spoke my piece before. It was neither the time nor the place and I'm sorry."

Corwin smiles with his eyes. "Accepted, my man. Maybe there's hope for us yet. If we can't keep peace among ourselves, we're not going to do them much harm."


"Anyway. It seems that the forces I dealt with were a small ruse. A beginning feint and little else. The Keep has fallen to Hendrake and most of my cousins are their prisoners. We both know both situations are unacceptable. It seems the game has stepped up a notch. I figured that it was about time to call my vacation quits and get back to doing what you pay me for after seeing Helena home.


"Why do you find this situation unacceptable? I'm...not disagreeing - yet - just asking. I don't feel so strongly, but maybe you can convince me...right now, I don't see how it bears all that much on the bigger picture...unless it has to do with the Maze construct?"

[chalice]

Eric seizes the proffered limb and drinks like the proverbial vampire, greedily at first, then more sedately for a moment. Finishing, he drops her arm and looks down for a moment, before slowly raising his head to meet her eyes. "Thanks, girl, I needed that like you'll never know. It sneaked up on me...I think It was waiting for a chance, but in a way, It's not very bright...or has only a limited attention for me. I think it was more a reaction than an intention...trying to reabsorb me."

He straightens, shakes and rolls his shoulders and arms. "Ach. Well, let's not let it go that long again, if we can."

"We won't." Gray frowns, considering. "Do you need to keep drinking, or do you think blood transfusions would work? Don't blame me if you find yourself turning into a wolf, though..." she mananges a shaky grin.

Hesitantly, she adds: "Do you think It...heard...me?"


He pauses, searching her eyes again.

"I also hope you understand something. I loved your mother because she was...better than I was. Had a firmer sense of...moral direction, I guess you might say. I liked that...I like it in you...but sometimes she could be such a noble stubborn pain. It's one thing to hold to your honor, but it's not the same to judge someone else, especially someone young, by your own standards." His quiet smile gentles. "Just...try to evaluate, but remember how you hate being condemned out of hand for your different viewpoint...and remember, I've done things worse than that." He shruggs. "Live and learn."

"I'll endeavour to do both," says his daughter drily. "Lucky Random never met mother, huh? I mean, if he describes you as self-righteous, only the Unicorn knows what he'd have had to say about her."

Between you, you're a bloody difficult act to follow.

While Eric was speaking, she had been healing her arm. Now she turns to Arrotel.

"Arrotel, sorry for being an ass. Give me that hand and I'll fix it..." she reaches for his injured hand, taking it gently between both of hers [if allowed] and begins repairing the damage.

[Wired*Nun]

"Random is a pragmatist...but he's not amoral. It's a family trait...or maybe we just like shortsightedness and outsmarting ourselves. Unicorn knows the underhanded bastards always seem to come out on top." He grins. "Did it hear you? I don't know...I don't think its attention was really on me in particular. I consume maybe a thousanth of its attention..." He begins walking, or at least pacing, again.

"Transfusions? You mean like - needles and such? Never liked them, but drinking my daughter's blood is a little too wierd for me to like it. Whatever works, I think I just need to ingest it somehow. But here's one to think about - maybe someone like Merlin knows - or Corwin, since he has some experience - is there any way to make this permanent?"

[chalice]

"Random is a pragmatist...but he's not amoral. It's a family trait...or maybe we just like shortsightedness and outsmarting ourselves. Unicorn knows the underhanded bastards always seem to come out on top." He grins. "Did it hear you? I don't know...I don't think its attention was really on me in particular. I consume maybe a thousanth of its attention..." He begins walking, or at least pacing, again.

"It's just...I'd like to know if I'm always talking to It when I talk to you. If I'm ever just talking to you, I mean," she says wistfully.

"Transfusions? You mean like - needles and such? Never liked them, but drinking my daughter's blood is a little too wierd for me to like it. Whatever works, I think I just need to ingest it somehow. But here's one to think about - maybe someone like Merlin knows - or Corwin, since he has some experience - is there any way to make this permanent?"

"Don't necessarily have to use needles," says Gray, distractedly. "Dworkin said more blood - more of his blood, anyway - would increase your independence...but as to flesh and blood, I'd planned to ask him, but can hardly do so now. Maybe Merlin...though I don't see any reason he'd talk to me...matter of fact, our only link so far is that he had his brother kidnap me - don't worry, it was all very civilised...and actually, I would like to talk to him sometime about the other things you suggested."

[Wired*Nun]

"It's just...I'd like to know if I'm always talking to It when I talk to you. If I'm ever just talking to you, I mean," she says wistfully.

"I guess you'll just have to gamble a little bit...and try to stay off subjects that are obviously of interest...


Maybe Merlin...though I don't see any reason he'd talk to me...matter of fact, our only link so far is that he had his brother kidnap me - don't worry, it was all very civilised...and actually, I would like to talk to him sometime about the other things you suggested."


"Really? I didn't know he had a brother. By what parents?"

[chalice]

"I don't know, actually. Half-brother was what he said he was. Older half-brother. Mandor, of House Sawall."

[Icebird]

Arrotel closes his eyes and breaths a sigh of relief as the hole in his hand closes, then begins to think out loud.

"I'm not a sorcerer anymore, but perhaps a shadow energy source could sustain you without need for messy scenes such as I just witnessed? It could limit you to one shadow, but that might be worked around if we channel the energy through a trump somehow..."

He notices that he's been speaking out loud, and quickly adds a disclaimer.

"All just guesswork on my part. It would work that way in my home shadow of course, but I've never really figured out the universe as a whole."

[chalice]

"And speaking of Trumps - I wonder if it would be possible to create a new one of you. Eric's old one works for you because Dworkin makes sure it will, but I wonder if one could be drawn of you as you are now - you, yourself, whatever that means now. You plus, I suppose one could say."

Gray struggles not to sound too hopeful, but her eyes brightened a little as Arrotel was talking.

"If we're still heading home, maybe you'll find you are stronger there. There's a lot of you in that place after all - it was moulded by, and around, you for centuries..." And the Jewel-matrix, framework, whatever, is there too...

"Blood seems key..some item involving blood, or created from it, maybe...?" Gray's voice trails off, as she wades out of her metaphysical depth.

"And we're straying from the immediate point - namely, what now?" She looks over at Landon, still in his Trump contact, then back at Arrotel. "Are you going to let anyone know what's happened?"

[Icebird]

"Expecting too much is stupid, hoping for it is not."

"Hmmm... I do recall something about 'blood animals' from the great book. Perhaps someone could try to fashion a 'blood trump' that tied one person to another, in the same way that I'm tied to Telloth? I really have no idea how it would work, or even if it could, but speculation is something I've always enjoyed.

"This counts as politics, and thus I'm happy to let others decide what to do. Landon mentioned something about you playing dead? I'll go along with whatever he thinks best."

[TreyKincaide]

Corwin smiles with his eyes. "Accepted, my man. Maybe there's hope for us yet. If we can't keep peace among ourselves, we're not going to do them much harm."

Landon returns a genuine smile and a simple nod.

Why do you find this situation unacceptable? I'm...not disagreeing - yet - just asking. I don't feel so strongly, but maybe you can convince me...right now, I don't see how it bears all that much on the bigger picture...unless it has to do with the Maze construct?

"I can't speak as freely as I'd like to at the moment," he passes Corwin a knowing glance, "but unless I'm unaware of new developments on your end I'm a bit confused. Maybe if I explain my way of thinking? First, I thought one of our primary aims was to deny them the Blood of Amber assuming they'd attempt to put it to the same use that Brand did Martin's. Secondly, I was under the impression that the Keep was to remain in relatively neutral hands otherwise I must ask the reasons for past endeavors towards such ends. Lastly, the Keep is tied to the Maze. It's an old idea while the construct is new. I believe that Jasra was manipulated by her former masters into it's creation. It's a bit too convenient that they choose now to attack in force. Perhaps they set it into motion long ago as a personal power base and now that Jasra's expendable they're removing her from the equation. Everything is connected," Landon rubs his temples, "but you'd have to be as mad and brilliant as Dworkin to appreciate it."

[chalice]

"This counts as politics, and thus I'm happy to let others decide what to do. Landon mentioned something about you playing dead? I'll go along with whatever he thinks best."

Gray shakes her head. "No, I'm not playing dead. I thought people in Amber would be assuming me dead, though...?" light dawns, and she realises Arrotel can't have been in Amber since her failed Patternwalk.

"I tried to walk the Pattern and fell at the First Veil thanks to the Chaos enchantment in my mind," she summarises as unemotionally as possible. "I certainly thought I was dying, but I woke up by the Primal Pattern. That's why I guessed my death might be assumed - to say nothing of welcomed - in Amber. I don't care what they think one way or the other. It's fine with me if they assume I'm dead, but I'm not going out of my way to make a secret of surviving."

And even if I were, there'd be no point swearing someone whose word means nothing to secrecy. She ducks her head, allowing her hair to swing forward and curtain her face, in case the bitter thought is written in her eyes.

"I just want to be left alone. I'm not going back to Amber. I'm unsure whether Landon is playing dead or not - that's for him to say."

She looks back up at Arrotel with serious grey eyes.

"What is for you to say, is what you will do with the information you have now - about the Keep situation, and about us," her gesture includes the Patternghost in 'us'. "We can't make that choice for you."

[Wired*Nun]

"And speaking of Trumps - I wonder if it would be possible to create a new one of you. Eric's old one works for you because Dworkin makes sure it will, but I wonder if one could be drawn of you as you are now - you, yourself, whatever that means now. You plus, I suppose one could say."

Gray struggles not to sound too hopeful, but her eyes brightened a little as Arrotel was talking.

"If we're still heading home, maybe you'll find you are stronger there. There's a lot of you in that place after all - it was moulded by, and around, you for centuries..." And the Jewel-matrix, framework, whatever, is there too...

"Blood seems key..some item involving blood, or created from it, maybe...?" Gray's voice trails off, as she wades out of her metaphysical depth.



"I think that's a fine idea - do you know anyone you trust to prepare one of me? And what you said...about my shadow Amber...I have an idea. It's obvious, but...may be problematic. Practically, as well as morally." He stops his pacing to look in Gray's eyes, seeming to ignore Arrotel altogether.

"What about a shadow of me - of him - you know what I mean. Could I be...recreated? Merged?"

[Wired*Nun]

First, I thought one of our primary aims was to deny them the Blood of Amber assuming they'd attempt to put it to the same use that Brand did Martin's. Secondly, I was under the impression that the Keep was to remain in relatively neutral hands otherwise I must ask the reasons for past endeavors towards such ends. Lastly, the Keep is tied to the Maze. It's an old idea while the construct is new. I believe that Jasra was manipulated by her former masters into it's creation. It's a bit too convenient that they choose now to attack in force. Perhaps they set it into motion long ago as a personal power base and now that Jasra's expendable they're removing her from the equation. Everything is connected," Landon rubs his temples, "but you'd have to be as mad and brilliant as Dworkin to appreciate it."

"To take your points in order...they have access to the blood of Amber, through Merlin and others. The trick is to not let them use it against anything that matters. If they want to kill off some Brokens...well, that's all to the good. Second, though I'd rather have the Keep in independent hands, I'd rather have it in Chaos' possession than Amber's, actually - and without intervening directly and obviously, what would you have me do? If you want to go back there and try to help the others, I'm not going to try to talk you out of it - but I can't do much myself. In fact, I'm weakened now that Coral is gone - and the Jewel, too - and I have to be very conservative right now. Third, I'm already working on keeping the Maze itself out of Chaos' hands - if you want to help me on that, I'd welcome your assistance." He begins moving, and Landon realizes that Corwin is mounted, and had been sitting still while he took the call.

[chalice]

"I think that's a fine idea - do you know anyone you trust to prepare one of me? And what you said...about my shadow Amber...I have an idea. It's obvious, but...may be problematic. Practically, as well as morally." He stops his pacing to look in Gray's eyes, seeming to ignore Arrotel altogether.

"What about a shadow of me - of him - you know what I mean. Could I be...recreated? Merged?"

"I - I don't know..." Gray seems at a loss.

"I mean, I do about a Trump - I could ask Asmundsen. Or Raevyn, if she's still alive and free." Why am I sure I could trust Raevyn? Unicorn knows, but I am.

She turns the idea of a 'merging' over in her mind, grateful to Dworkin for the clear way her thoughts are finally working again. "As to the 'too, too solid flesh' bit - shall we find out if I can shift the, uh, form you have now the way I do 'normal' flesh and blood? See, if I can, there's no logical reason why I couldn't 'siamese twin' you to a Shadow of yourself - preferably a brain-dead one on life-support - then gradually mold that joined form down to one 'normal' flesh one. It's clumsy, but it could be done - I think. What I don't know is, would that make you a Shadow? Your sprit and self, in a mere Shadow host? Actually, if I can shift what you're made of, perhaps I can just transmogrify you."

Rummaging in her satchel for a bit of paper, she scribbles 'will you ask Corwin if Merlin will speak with me sometime? Corwin has my Trump but I don't have his. Nothing of universe-shattering import; something about Dad', goes over to Landon and pushes the note into his hand, then returns.

"Father, shall we find out whether I can affect you or not?"

If Eric is agreeable, Gray will lay her hands over his, trying to get a feel for the stuff he is made of, trying to gently alter it to something closer to her own flesh.

[TreyKincaide]

Landon absent mindedly grasps the note in his hand and slips it in a jacket pocket.

"Alright, I'll need to make my goodbyes and see to Helena before I catch up to you unless you don't believe it'll be dangerous in which case I'll bring her along."

Regardless of Corwin's reply, Landon's next action is to get Gray and Eric's attention without breaking the contact. "My decision has been made. I'll be going now. I can't help our cousins at the moment and getting captured trying to do so will truly accomplish nothing so curtailing their aims is the best I can hope for. Will you two be alright? You can Trump me whenever you need. Unless you wish to come along."

[Wired*Nun]

When Gray's hands meet Eric's flesh, it seems solid and ordinary. The moment she tries to alter it, though, she feels as if she grabbed hold of an electric cattle fence - assuming she even knows what one is. A little more effort just intensifies the discomfort, and Eric seems unchanged. "That kind of stings, actually..."

[Wired*Nun]

Corwin says, "No, this isn't a good place for your wife. I'll rustle up a mount for you as soon as I can..."

[TreyKincaide]

"Need to get a Trump of Rome for occasions like this. Maybe she can stay with Gray and Eric until I come back if they're agreeable? Tell you what, I'll make arrangements and call you back unless you don't trust another Trump contact getting through."

[chalice]

When Gray's hands meet Eric's flesh, it seems solid and ordinary. The moment she tries to alter it, though, she feels as if she grabbed hold of an electric cattle fence - assuming she even knows what one is. A little more effort just intensifies the discomfort, and Eric seems unchanged. "That kind of stings, actually..."

"I can't touch it," says Gray in frustration. "I just have no idea what you're made of. I'm sorry."

[chalice]

Regardless of Corwin's reply, Landon's next action is to get Gray and Eric's attention without breaking the contact. "My decision has been made. I'll be going now. I can't help our cousins at the moment and getting captured trying to do so will truly accomplish nothing so curtailing their aims is the best I can hope for. Will you two be alright? You can Trump me whenever you need. Unless you wish to come along."

Well, so much for his newly-discovered family feeling. Stupid, this is more important!

"We'll be fine," Gray says, looking torn. "I daren't take father into Aurora's realm - I don't know what that might do to him.

"Me, I plan to sit here and call Asmundsen, because he knows more about the Maze than I do, and to work my way through my cousin's Trumps until I get an answer from someone and can find out what's going on, or until I'm sure they're all dead-" her voice quivers slightly, "-or beyond reach."

"If I learn more, I'll keep you updated. And you know you can call if you need help or escape...if Corwin won't lend you my Trump, then you could try one of Eric...good luck, Landon. I love you."

[Landon suggests Helena might stay with Gray and Eric]

He wants her away from Corwin...

Gray begins nodding, yes, gladly, then bites her lip. "I'm not to be trusted, Landon. You know that. I can't promise to look after anyone."

[TreyKincaide]

Without looking away Landon answers fearful of loosing contact, "Actually, Gray, I was wondering if you could do me an extremely important favor--one that I can't trust to anyone else. Can you proceed to where we had orginally planned on going and take Helena with you? Helena can look after herself and won't be a bother if the dogs are with her. It'd be a good oppurtunity for you two to become acquainted and I know you won't let me down. Besides, you promised to show her a bit of medicinal practices." She sees a sideways smile as he shows his faith in his sister even when she herself does not.

"About Eric. He's a matrix of energy--an extension of the Pattern itself without flesh and I assume clothed in Shadow the way we are. I don't know if that helps, but it'll get you started on a more permanent solution. You might be able to sustain him off of the Pattern energy left in the ward and use it as a buffer. I'll mull it over and think about it, but maybe in helping him you'll be helping yourself get where you want to go.

I'm sorry about popping out on you, but I need to finish what I started. I love you too, and I wish you luck. Take you time and I'd suggest laying low if you don't wish to be bothered. You too Eric."

"Arrotel, I hope I can trust that you'll at least keep a bit of what you've heard here to yourself. At the very least, I'd prefer that word of my wife doesn't reach others."

"Helena, I'm sorry leave you here, but where I'm going Corwin says you shouldn't follow. I'll miss you, love, and I'll see you again as soon as I can."

[chalice]

"Helena, I'm sorry leave you here, but where I'm going Corwin says you shouldn't follow. I'll miss you love and I'll see you again as soon as I can."

Gray's eyes light up as Landon speaks. "I'll guard her with my life, brother. And I'll see you when I may." If we both live.

Turning to Helena as Landon prepares to leave, she adds, "I should dearly love to know my sister better than I do now." She holds out both hands to the lovely Roman woman.

[Wired*Nun]

"Need to get a Trump of Rome for occasions like this. Maybe she can stay with Gray and Eric until I come back if they're agreeable? Tell you what, I'll make arrangements and call you back unless you don't trust another Trump contact getting through."

"That's fine...here, here's one of Coral. She can send Helena home, when she's ready. Trumps should work all right, though you might have to push. If not, just keep trying." He hands over a Trump of Coral and waves out.

[Wired*Nun]

Gray's eyes light up as Landon speaks. "I'll guard her with my life, brother. And I'll see you when I may."

Turning to Helena, she adds, "I should dearly love to know my sister better than I do now." She holds out both hands to the lovely Roman woman.

"I will do whatever Landon says, and I would be happy to share your company for as long as you like...though if it's longer than a few months, I hope you know something about birthing," she says, and rubs her showing belly for moment with a smile.

[chalice]

Whether Landon does or does not go through to Corwin, Gray's next action is to sit down, fan through her Trump deck and attempt calls in the following order:

Asmundsen
Roland
Heldrik - aaargh, no, wait, no Trump;)
Raevyn
Kat

[chalice]

"I will do whatever Landon says, and I would be happy to share your company for as long as you like...though if it's longer than a few months, I hope you know something about birthing," she says, and rubs her showing belly for moment with a smile.

"A fair amount, sister. At least about cubs..." Gray's laughter is infectious.

Leaning towards Helena, she adds more quietly: "Y'know...I'm not so sure about this 'do whatever he says' thing. Seems to me, you're probably the brains - or certainly the common sense - of the partnership..."

[TreyKincaide]

Landon flicks the Trump of Coral over to Helena and rolls his eyes in mock annoyance and laughs, "Something tells me you're going to be a bad influence on my wife. Already you're conspiring against me." He chuckles. "Helena, call Coral when/if you wish to return to Rome." He clasps them both on the shoulder, turns to give Eric a hug, and offers his hand to Arrotel to shake. "Next time we meet it should be over a glass of wine," he says before concentrating on Corwin's Trump again trying to make contact.

[Wired*Nun]

Helena looks mock-offended, then whispers back, "We all know men have their heads in the clouds, while we hold on to the ground. But I come from humble roots, and he has elevated me above all others...and I love him. I do not need to compare myself to him. Neither do you," she says with an impish grin.

When Landon tosses over the Trump, she fumbles at it, then picks it up off the ground. She handles it gingerly and tucks it away in her bodice.

Asmundson's Trump comes alive almost immediately. He is sitting in a plush chair and drinking tea, but puts it down and comes to his feet immediately. "A moment, please," he says to her - or someone else? - and moves in her viewpoint. That moment later, he shuts a door to a private room and says, "Miss Agraynel! I am ever so happy to hear from you. I was concerned. Are you well?"

[chalice]

Helena looks mock-offended, then whispers back, "We all know men have their heads in the clouds, while we hold on to the ground. But I come from humble roots, and he has elevated me above all others...and I love him. I do not need to compare myself to him. Neither do you," she says with an impish grin.

"Ouch - fair point!" Gray grins back.


Asmundson's Trump comes alive almost immediately. He is sitting in a plush chair and drinking tea, but puts it down and comes to his feet immediately. "A moment, please," he says to her - or someone else? - and moves in her viewpoint. That moment later, he shuts a door to a private room and says, "Miss Agraynel! I am ever so happy to hear from you. I was concerned. Are you well?"

"As well as I might be, dear friend. Are you at liberty to come to me?" Gray hesitates, suddenly afraid she might have taken too much for granted. "I mean - if you would like to..."

[Wired*Nun]

"Of course," says Asmundson. "Do I need equippage, or outdoor clothing? Are you in distress?"

[chalice]

"No great distress, but considerable confusion, and some urgency" Gray admits honestly. "We can find whatever you need as we go..." she extends a hand to bring him through, hugging him tight as he arrives.

"It's so good to see you safe." I hadn't realised how worried I was. How safe he makes me feel.

Disengaging, she makes the necessary introductions.

"Arrotel you know. The lady is Helena. And this is my father. Kind of. Father, Helena, this is Asmundson Challenger, one of my dearest friends, and the reason I'm not still sleeping the sleep of the horribly cursed." She considers, head on one side. "Actually, possibly my only friend."

"Asmundson, there is a problem with the Primal Maze. It is in danger of falling into very bad hands. You know more of the Maze than any of us, and have a right to know what is happening. Arrotel, father, please explain the situation. I will try to reach someone close to events." While Landon does what he can from wherever he is.

So this is what I'm like when I'm sane. Bossy as hell.

After issuing her...suggestions...she concentrates on Roland's Trump.

[Icebird]

To Landon, "I think that I shall return to Amber and report on the Keep situation to Random, but I'll avoid this incident all together."

When Gray talks to Asmundson, "On the other hand, I'll stick around for just a little longer to say hello to Asmundson."

[Wired*Nun]

"Just let me get my hat and coat, and trusty walking stick." He moves out of the private room, down hallways to a concierge - she realizes he is probably in his lodge on the Isle. Waiting for my call? Is that what... She shakes her head to clear that thought.

A short time later, he steps through. He shakes hands with Arrotel, bows to Helena, and raises an eyebrow at Gray's description of Eric. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir."

Eric looks at Arrotel for his explanations, having been there recently.

[Icebird]

"Good to see you again. As to the current situation, I was at the keep just moments ago when house Heldrake, if you've heard of it, attacked. I, Rae, Kat, Heldrick, Roland and a few other friends you've not met helped defend it, and had fought their forces to a standstill when their full might arrived. I escaped in a manner not in line with many people's honor, while the rest surrendered or were unconscious. Actually, I don't know what happened to Raevyn, but I'de assume she either escaped or was captured as well."

A moment's pause, then "Well, this does seem to be the day for making long speeches. Anything interesting on your end of the universe?"

[chalice]

Gray sighs, and momentarily abandons her attempts to contact Roland.

"I don't know how much you and Heldrik discussed the Maze, Shadow, Pattern and so forth after Rebis and I left," she says to Asmundson. "But just as our Pattern has reflections, so your Maze and Siodmak's seem to be connected to the first Maze, created at the place we are speaking of - the Keep of the Four Worlds. It is this place that has been attacked - presumably by those interested in seizing the Maze's power for themselves, as well as another source that lies in that place, the Fount of Power."

Another thought occurs.

"Asmundson - Siodmak was given a chance to truly become one ofthe family, but he betrayed us just as you predicted. His father is hunting him now, to kill him. He may have already done so, but it is certain that he will succeed." She reaches out to lay her hand over one of his, and squeezes gently. "I'm sorry. I know you were close to him for a while, even though he became your enemy later.

"This means," she goes on in more practical tones, "that you are now the only person we can turn to for information about the Maze. Presumably those at the Keep have more information, but for now we seem to be cut off from them. Have you noticed anything...odd...about your Maze, or your link to Nightmare recently? I had been wondering whether Maze-to-Maze contact - for want of a more elegant term - might be possible, to get around the Trump barrier..."

[Wired*Nun]

"This is all quite fascinating, my dear, However, I must confess ignorance of this House of Hendrake, and any other Mazes - I believed until this moment that we had a unique artifact. But of course, it is logical - I wonder why I hadn't thought of it. What if I drew a place with another Maze? A different one? Could we go through the picture to there? I do not know. I wish you had asked me to gather my painting supplies, now, or do you have some of those stashed about?" He looks speculatively around the meadow.

[chalice]

"I have pencil and paper, that's all." Gray looks at Eric and Arrotel. "Could either of you gentlemen 'find' such supplies? It's beyond my skill."

To Asmundson, she continues: "If all else fails, and we returned to your Maze, could you use a Rover to track down those we are missing? Or another Maze?"

She leans forward. "Asmundson, this isn't just interesting. It's important. Your Maze - its origin - need defending. If House Hendrake take the Primal Maze, they may control your Maze. They may control you."

[Wired*Nun]

Eric replies, "Easy enough, but we will have to risk encountering some people. Shall we take a journey to nineteenth century Holland? Lots of painters wandering around there."

Asmundson responds to Gray's questions, "I could certainly try to find missing people...but I need to know them, the better to congrue. Siodmak was easy. As for another maze...it might be extremely easy, or very hard, but a rover is unlikely to be able to...to do anything with or to another Maze. I can have it take me there, but I haven't the skill to bring me with you to where it is. But why would not Nightmare defend her own Maze?" At the sceptical look on her face, he goes on, "All right, never mind, it can't hurt to proceed as you say."

As he talks, he stroll after the others, the bitches frolicking, Arthur looking a bit mopish at being left behind. The landscape shifts, and becomes flatter, and greener, if that is possible. Beds of tulips, some wild, some tame, spring up along neatly-tended canals. A river barge comes around a distant curve, moving slowly down the waterway, pulled by a pair of draft horses on one bank. Under a large tree, a school of painters with easels sprawl, at least a dozen of them, bearded and besmocked. A nude woman lounges on a blanket, strangely still, but the others are painting furiously.

[chalice]

Gray just goes along with wherever Eric chooses to lead, lost in her own musings. She seems to have exhausted her inner reserves, showing little interest in their changing surroundings; it's clear her thoughts are far away.

[Icebird]

"Other precidents lacking, I see no reason not to try and save the maze on our own, regardless of other forces working on parallel paths."

As they reach the group of painters, Arrotel seems to remember that he is not simply on a lazy morning stroll with friends.

"Acually, I just stuck around to say hello and goodby. I feel that those in Amber should be told of the incident with the keep, whatever they decide to do about it. As usual Gray, feel free to call if you want anything, and Asmundson, a pleasure to see you as always. Eric, living legends seem to pop up all over the place when you live like we do, even if they aren't exactly what they seem. Glad to have met you, even if only for a little while."

So finishing, Arrotel smiles. "Now that I've said my goodbys, does anyone have a trump of Amber, or should I just walk?"

[chalice]

"Here's one of Flora. Good luck. Feel free to call anytime you want to use me for a quick getaway and then leave. Actually, check that. Can I have the Trump of me that you hold back? It's one of only three I know of, and there are people I'd rather have hold it."

[chalice]

Asmundson responds to Gray's questions, "I could certainly try to find missing people...but I need to know them, the better to congrue. Siodmak was easy. As for another maze...it might be extremely easy, or very hard, but a rover is unlikely to be able to...to do anything with or to another Maze. I can have it take me there, but I haven't the skill to bring me with you to where it is. But why would not Nightmare defend her own Maze?" At the sceptical look on her face, he goes on, "All right, never mind, it can't hurt to proceed as you say."


After Arrotel responds and leaves - assuming he does - Gray picks up the thread of her discussion with Asmundson.

"How well do you need to know someone to send a rover looking?" she asks quietly. "Heldrik, Raevyn, Kat, Roland and Rebis were all at the Keep - though I don't know if any of them still are or not."

[Icebird]

Accepting Flora's trump- "Thank you. I'm loath to give yours up, but if you wish it, then I'll do so." He hands the requested item over, and bows. Stepping a few feet away, he is about to call Flora when a pained look crosses his face. He turns back to Gray.

"I felt that I could trust you more than anyone else I could go to. I'm sorry that you don't like my actions, but they are mine. I march to a different tune than you, and neither of us can see where either path ends."

He looks away and concentrates of Flora's trump.

[chalice]

There is an answering pain in Gray's eyes as she accepts her Trump back; but accept it she does.

You could trust me, cousin. But now I can't trust you. And where were you when I needed friend to depend on, back in Amber? Absolutely nowhere.

"I wish you luck, Arrotel," she says softly, as he turns away to concentrate on Flora's trump, and she turns back to Asmundson and Eric, biting her lip.

"Father, I thought you might like to have this," she says in a subdued tone, offering the card to Eric.

[Wired*Nun]

Flora answers Arrotel with a black screen. "Hello, Arrotel - is it something urgent? I'm indisposed right now - can you give me half an hour?" If that's all right, she will sign off and await his call in a short time.

When he calls her back, she is wearing comfortable clothing and sitting in an antechamber, probably on the residence floor of the palace. "Now, what can I help you with, my boy?"

[Wired*Nun]

To Gray, Eric looks sidelong, and accepts the Trump. "Why the long face, pumpkin? Hey, Edmundson, can you go over and negotiate for whatever art supplies you need? Take this money, someone should be amenable."

Asmundson returns no comment at the mangling of his name, but takes the money and strides confidently over to the group of artists. In short order he has procured a complete set of paints, brushes, and easel and canvas.

While A is gone, Eric turns back to Gray and says, "I know that look. Something's bothering you. You worried about your friends?"

[Icebird]

While Flora does whatever she is doing, Arrotel wanders around the countryside a little, just a slow walk down along the side of the waterway. The scene changes just a little bit, moving towards autumn. Not much, just enough to be out of the same shadow as the others.

Can I do nothing right in anyone's eyes? I seem to have regained feeling in my hand, but lost someone I would have called a friend. Was it really so fragile that it could be snapped by a single word?

When he calls back, his voice is as calm and unpertubed as he can make it.

"Perhaps you can. I have just witnessed a rather interesting scene involving an invasion of the Keep of Four worlds by house Heldrake. I felt that you might be the one to speak with regarding disseminating this information to anyone who should know about it. Shall I come through, or would you rather hear the full tale in this wonderfully picturesque shadow I have found?"

[chalice]

While A is gone, Eric turns back to Gray and says, "I know that look. Something's bothering you. You worried about your friends?"

Gray nods, chewing her lip. "Most of them aren't really my friends." And who can blame them? "But, yes, I am worried about them. Roland and Kat looked like they could take care of themselves. But Raevyn should never have been in a fight." Gray's mind flashes on an image of Rae's sweet, so-serious, face as she tried to follow Kat's moves in their fencing lesson. That's not the kind of thing that should touch someone like her.

"And Rebis tried to look after me in Chaos, and he doesn't have any friends among the Family to help him. I don't even know what he was doing there."

"And Heldrik-" she swallows hard. "Heldrik, me and Arrotel were a team. I broke with them to go and look for Landon. From Rebis' story it sounded as if he wasn't with Corwin willingly - and - oh, hell, you know how I felt about Corwin until just recently. I couldn't imagine anything good could be happening to him..."

Gray looks down at the ground, but not before Eric notices the anguish in her eyes.

"Heldrik was my leader and the closest I have to a best friend - I should have been there to protect him in a fight - or at least patch him up afterwards - and I wasn't. I gave Arrotel such a hard time about deserting his friends, but I did exactly the same, didn't I? And now I don't even know if he's alive or dead..."

Gray seems oblivious to the fact that she has moved from speaking of 'they' and 'them' to 'he' and 'him'.

She looks at the ground some more, then shakes herself, doglike. "Well, I'll find out sooner or later. Meantime, fretting isn't the best use of my time, is it? Let's see if Asmundson - that's Asmundson, dad, by the way - can make a Trump of you shall we? Landon can have Corwin call me if they aren't blocked and they need me for anything - let's face it, if there's a problem Corwin and Landon can't deal with, I'm hardly going to make a difference..."

She looks up at Eric seriously: "Dad, please be nice to Asmundson. He's my friend. If it weren't for him I'd still be sleeping in the tower..." And you wouldn't exist.

[Wired*Nun]

But Raevyn should never have been in a fight."

"Everyone has to be prepared to defend herself, or what she holds most dear. You know that. Protecting her from blood is a cruel kindness. I knew Gerard would have that trouble if he ever had children. Amber will always be under seige, and we have to be ready to fight for her."


"And Rebis tried to look after me in Chaos, and he doesn't have any friends among the Family to help him. I don't even know what he was doing there."



"Maybe he liked you...maybe he acted out of instinct to protect the female...maybe he opposed your opponents. Hard to say...maybe you should go ask him, sometime?"

"Heldrik, me and Arrotel were a team. I broke with them to go and look for Landon. From Rebis' story it sounded as if he wasn't with Corwin willingly - and - oh, hell, you know how I felt about Corwin until just recently. I couldn't imagine anything good could be happening to him..."


"You did what you thought was right. Don't ever stop doing that...but feelings aren't your only giude. Use your head, too, I know you are smart. You've always been impulsive, though." He smiles a half-smile, wryly. "Your mother's instincts but my bad judgment, eh?"

Let's see if Asmundson - that's Asmundson, dad, by the way - can make a Trump of you shall we? Landon can have Corwin call me if they aren't blocked and they need me for anything - let's face it, if there's a problem Corwin and Landon can't deal with, I'm hardly going to make a difference..."

She looks up at Eric seriously: "Dad, please be nice to Asmundson. He's my friend. If it weren't for him I'd still be sleeping in the tower..."

"When am I not nice?" His wide-eyed innocent look makes her think of older times..."And you can make a difference, wherever you are. Look what a difference you have made here! With me...whatever I am. And it's not him I have to thank. It's you. You were bound to get out eventually...but what you've done since then is what led to my...existence."

Asmundson returns with his supplies, and sets up the easel. "Did I overhear something about a Trump? So who wants a portrail this time, eh? Good thing I took those language classes, my Flemish is a little rusty but I got by. The Dutch are always willing to buy and sell, for the right price."

[chalice]

"Your mother's instincts but my bad judgment, eh?"

"Pretty much," Gray agrees ruefully, but the comment does make her smile.


"When am I not nice?" His wide-eyed innocent look makes her think of older times..."And you can make a difference, wherever you are. Look what a difference you have made here! With me...whatever I am. And it's not him I have to thank. It's you. You were bound to get out eventually...but what you've done since then is what led to my...existence."

Whatever you are...what did Dworkin mean by having the Pattern create you?...must have known he might be handing it the keys to my soul...I won't allow it to take you back, or let you stay its puppet. I couldn't fight beside you when you needed help before, but I'm here this time and I won't lose you again.


Asmundson returns with his supplies, and sets up the easel. "Did I overhear something about a Trump? So who wants a portrail this time, eh? Good thing I took those language classes, my Flemish is a little rusty but I got by. The Dutch are always willing to buy and sell, for the right price."

"I - we - wondered whether it would be possible for a Trump to be made of my father..." Gray hesitates, unsure how much more to say.

What's best - to tell him what the ghost is or just find out what he sees, unknowing? What if I describe father as a construct, as the Pattern's creation, and that influences the way Asmundson sees him as he paints?

"There are other things I want to tell you, too...things to explain, I mean...but could we try this first? I'd like you to try before my attempts at explanations muddy any mental waters..." And while the ghost has recently fed, at his most independent. "If you're willing, that is."

"Later...we are going back" - she can't bring herself to say 'home' - "to the Shadow where my Tower was. To help the people of that place rebuild and recover. I wondered...if you would care to come too?"

She pauses for Asmundson's response, and to let him begin painting if that is what he chooses to do.

"Dad - I wondered if you would pick up my Pattern training en route? Heldrik was going to teach me," she bites her lip briefly, "but maybe I could learn something to show him next time we meet. I think he might be able to help you, too, actually." Certainly he can do things with Pattern I've never even heard of...and Landon says you are made of Pattern-energy.

[Wired*Nun]

And while the ghost has recently fed, at his most independent.[/i] "If you're willing, that is."

"Later...we are going back" - she can't bring herself to say 'home' - "to the Shadow where my Tower was. To help the people of that place rebuild and recover. I wondered...if you would care to come too?"
.

Asmundson looks at Gray gravely as he sets up his pallette. The smock covering his suit is incongruous, as is the beret he plops onto his head in place of his usual bowler. At her quizzical look he says earnestly, "One must look the part."

"I will, of course, do my utmost to create a proper Trump of your father. He will have to sit somewhat still for it, of course. When we are finished, whatever the result, I would be happy to accompany you to the end of the Earth and beyond, of course." The look on his face is rather disconcerting in its conviction.

Eric winks at Gray and takes up a heroic pose, not unlike the one on the classic Dworkin Trump.

[chalice]

"I will, of course, do my utmost to create a proper Trump of your father. He will have to sit somewhat still for it, of course. When we are finished, whatever the result, I would be happy to accompany you to the end of the Earth and beyond, of course." The look on his face is rather disconcerting in its conviction.


"I...hope it won't come to that..." And I wish I knew who messed with your mind, or creation, or did whatever, to make you feel this way about me.

She sits down close by to watch Asmundson at work. After a while, she pulls the Great Book of Amber from her satchel and carries on with her reading, pausing only to wander off and buy some bread, cheese and fruit for a picnic; she recalls that Asmundson was in need of food and rest after painting her Trump.

[Wired*Nun]

In short order he has a painting, about 9x12 in size, of Eric. It is quick, without the layering of normal oils, on a simple green and blue background, but at first glance it seems to be lifelike, ready to leap out at Gray as she looks.

"There we are. Can I bother someone for a drink?" He seems to be perspiring in the warm muggy air, and sits down heavily on a nearby rock. Helena opens up a picnic basket that she found somewhere and hands Asmundson a crystal goblet, and pours him some pale wine or juice from a rough bottle. "Mmmmmm, yes, that's better."

Eric walks around the easel to look over Gray's shoulder with a critical eye. "Nice likeness...so how do we check to see if it works? I'll have to go away a bit...and shift over a shadow or two..." He begins to look around for some suitable place to be off to.

[chalice]

"All right. I'll wait half an hour, then try to call you..." She watches him leave, trying to hide her nerves.

For the next hour, she fusses over Asmundson with Helena, making sure he eats and rests. After the half hour is up, she concentrates on the painting.

[Wired*Nun]

"Oh, ten minutes ought to do it..." He walks backward for a moment, then fades from view.

Tending to Asmundson, she is reminded anew of the frailty of ordinary shadow-dwellers. He doesn't have the stamina, the strength...but in some ways he has more backbone than most of us...

Splitting the difference, she tries after twenty minutes.

At first, everything seems fine. Contact comes, and she regards Eric standing in a field of purple heather. "Hi, pumpkin. Did you miss me?" The picture wavers for a moment, then begins to flow and fracture.

"Wha..." Eric says, as suddenly, inexplicably, the Trump folds in upon itself, disappearing in less than a second into some sort of singularity. There is now nothing on the easel, yet the contact remains, and even solidifies.

"What was that?"

[chalice]

"Oh, ten minutes ought to do it..." He walks backward for a moment, then fades from view.

Tending to Asmundson, she is reminded anew of the frailty of ordinary shadow-dwellers. He doesn't have the stamina, the strength...but in some ways he has more backbone than most of us...

Splitting the difference, she tries after twenty minutes.

Gray, with Asmundson's permisssion, will pour some of her own energy into him as she did once before.

I wonder if any of the People remember the ceremony for bringing over a human? He would make such a wise old wolf...I would share blood with him gladly...

It occurs to Gray that this is her best chance to explain Eric's state to Asmundson (and Helena) as best she understands it, without risking the Primal listening in.

"Uh - are you up to hearing some of those explanations now? There are things I need to tell you about...father..."

Unless Asmundson isn't up to it, she relates to him how Dworkin summoned this 'ghost' of Eric, and that it is linked to the Power (the Pattern) whose energy forms its body (as explained by Landon).

"It has father's memories...but it has other knowledge too, from the Pattern. He - I - want to find a way to free him from its control, give him a life of his own. He...needs my blood to sustain his existence right now. Blood helps him be individual, as far as I can tell. But we can't be sure anything we say in front of him isn't going to be collected from his mind by the Pattern....so please be careful. Especially, the Pattern is far too interested in the Maze, and you" -and me- "for comfort. We shouldn't talk about it too much in front of him..."

At first, everything seems fine. Contact comes, and she regards Eric standing in a field of purple heather. "Hi, pumpkin. Did you miss me?" The picture wavers for a moment, then begins to flow and fracture.

"Wha..." Eric says, as suddenly, inexplicably, the Trump folds in upon itself, disappearing in less than a second into some sort of singularity. There is now nothing on the easel, yet the contact remains, and even solidifies.

"What was that?"

Gray holds onto the contact for all she is worth.

"The painting disappeared," she says tersely. "But we're still connected - I don't know why. Here..." she pushes to make the contact strong enough for Eric to take the hand she is holding out. "Come through. Please." She reaches for him, her hand shaking visibly.

[Wired*Nun]

Unless Asmundson isn't up to it, she relates to him how Dworkin summoned this 'ghost' of Eric, and that it is linked to the Power (the Pattern) whose energy forms its body (as explained by Landon).

"It has father's memories...but it has other knowledge too, from the Pattern. He - I - want to find a way to free him from its control, give him a life of his own. He...needs my blood to sustain his existence right now. Blood helps him be individual, as far as I can tell. But we can't be sure anything we say in front of him isn't going to be collected from his mind by the Pattern....so please be careful. Especially, the Pattern is far too interested in the Maze, and you" -and me- "for comfort. We shouldn't talk about it too much in front of him..."


"I think I understand, my dear," he says, patting her hand. "I will do all I can to help. I know there are reports of posession and transformation of creatures, and you yourself have this power. There should be a way in this wide universe to restore this ghost to solidity. I feel that there is so much more for me to learn, however. I would like to see this Pattern of yours, sometime, if it be not too dangerous. I also would like to see this Primal Maze Landon spoke of - if my own is but a facsimile, then so are my knowledges and powers."


Gray holds onto the contact for all she is worth.

"The painting disappeared," she says tersely. "But we're still connected - I don't know why. Here..." she pushes to make the contact strong enough for Eric to take the hand she is holding out. "Come through. Please." She reaches for him, her hand shaking visibly


Eric steps through, though it doesn't feel the same as when an normally living being steps through a Trump - more like he is transmitted. Still, he ends up at the same place, holding her trembling hand. "Maybe you should go take a run through the countryside, burn off some of that adrenaline," he says with a smile. Chucking her under the chin, he says, "Don't worry about me, I'm all right."

All the time he is talking, there is a curious feeling in her mind, as if the Trump contact is still there. A half-formed idea, and she turns away - and can still see him, shimmering, as if superimposed on her vision. The vanished Trump...the state of the Ghost...I wonder what just happened? Where's a Trump artist when you need one?

[chalice]

Gray rubs at her eyes


Dad? she thinks I can still see you. I can feel you in my head.Can you hear me?

Aloud, she says "Run? - good idea! I'm so fidgety I can't think straight." Shrugging her satchel to the ground and kicking off her boots, she takes off, lithe strides carrying her smoothly away.

Maybe an hour later she arrives back and throws herself on the ground to rest in an untidy sprawl. Concentrating on the purely physical seems to have settled her somewhat - certainly burned off most of the fear and frustration that marked her earlier behaviour.

She looks between Eric, Helena and Asmundson. "Have you guys been getting to know one another?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Yes, I can still hear you...some sort of effect of the Trump and my structure, perhaps? Wonder how long it will last..."

When she goes dashing off, the hounds take chase in a friendly competition, and she uses the additional impetus to drive herself over fences, through frightened herds of fat cattle and flocks of fluffy sheep, into well-managed groves of trees. Panicked farmers and herdsmen point firearms her direction from time to time, but the few poorly-aimed shots go astray with little danger. It's exhilarating to run, to be pursued, to lose herself in the simplicity of the effort.

When they return, she finds the rest sitting on cast-iron benches and wooden folding chairs, by the banks of the canal, a barge having pulled up and docked itself. There are well-dressed serving people, a table, a parasol, wine, food, and all the trappings of genteel European life, as well as an older, well-dressed lady in local clothing.

Eric stands as she returns, coming over to where she is lying, scratching one of the bitches on the head. "When you're ready, come on over and meet our benefactor. Mrs. Hendriks."

When she does, the plump older lady bows from the waist while still seated, saying in a thick Dutch accent, "Pardon for not getting up, I'm not so spry as I once was. I yam Vendela Hendriks. Mister Oberson was jaast tellink me of some of your remarkable advantures. It's all very interestink." She cools herself with a lace fan against the warming humidity.

[chalice]

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs Hendriks," says Gray politely.

Dad? Are you still there? Uh, here?

"And it's awfully nice of you to make us so welcome, ma'am."

I wonder if this is anything like the link between Arrotel and Telloth she wonders. I wish I could talk to Raevyn. Or even Josh.

For now, though, she settles for sitting down and relaxing with the others, sipping gratefully at a cold drink and listening to the gentle sounds of polite conversation and lapping water.

[Wired*Nun]

"Yes, I'm here. This is interesting...it seems somewhat permanent. I could follow you on your run...I wonder if it can be turned off?"

Asmundson amuses himself by trading anecdotes with Mrs. Hendriks, practicing his rusty Flemish on her with remarkable tencity. A few polite titters intersperse these forays into the language, and soon a remarkable facimile of an English tea is set out on the tables. "I do so love this tradition of tea you British have, dear boy," she says to Asmundson. "So civilized, and it's all the rage in Antwerpen." She picks up a ham sandwich and takes a healthy bite, then scoops a pair of proper crumpets onto her plate and slathers them with butter and jam. "I'm afraid it's not English jam, but the Pfaelzers do make a wonderful currant compote that substitutes almost as well. Haf you ever been to Trier?" This launches another round of anecdotes, reminding her of the richness of shadow even while making her feel like an alien.

Apetite sated for now, Asmundson leans in to Gray and says quietly, "This is all very refreshing, but this woman is taxing my ability to remain interested, and your father is beginnning to fidget. Why don't you finish your scone, put a couple in your pockets, and let us be off to your homeland, eh, what?"

Eric leans in from the other side, apparently having heard (through the link?) Asmundson's suggestion. Whispering, he says, "Why don't we wangle an invitation onto the barge and give the old lady the adventure of a lifetime - we can shift through shadow while floating in style." Asmundson's eyes light up at this, and says, "I can put up with her conversation as long as her food is this good, and I must confess, I'd rather sail than walk." They both look at her to approve.

[chalice]

"Yes, I'm here. This is interesting...it seems somewhat permanent. I could follow you on your run...I wonder if it can be turned off?"

Let's not try yet - we might not be able to switch it back on. I wonder if it could be used to bring you to me - or vice versa - over distance?


Eric leans in from the other side, apparently having heard (through the link?) Asmundson's suggestion. Whispering, he says, "Why don't we wangle an invitation onto the barge and give the old lady the adventure of a lifetime - we can shift through shadow while floating in style." Asmundson's eyes light up at this, and says, "I can put up with her conversation as long as her food is this good, and I must confess, I'd rather sail than walk." They both look at her to approve.

Sounds fun - as long as we don't frighten her to death.

"Yes, good idea," she whispers back to Asmundson.

She leaves the actual 'wangling' to Asmundson, since the voluble Mrs Hendriks seems much taken with him, but tries to give him an opening with: "That's a lovely barge, Mrs Hendriks. It must be such fun to travel on one of those..." she looks wistful.

[Wired*Nun]

"Oh, my yes, it is chust t'a tink! Let's all haff an adfenture toget'er!" In short order, her staff pack evetything up, lifting it all on to the voluminous watercraft.

The next hour or so is taken up with the grand tour of her luxury boat. It seems Mrs. Hendriks' husband died soem time ago, leaving her a substantial fortune from his shipping business. She sold off the business for liquid bonds and cash, and now has investments in several concerns. In any case, she's rich enough to live on the barge and travel around the waterways of Europe in style.

Necessaries over with, and firmly ensconced on the covered front deck, they begin sailing gently down the waterway at a pace slower than a walk. Eric winks, and the landscape begins to change, slowly, slowly. By the time night falls, the character of the houses has changed, some, but the land is still flat and fertile. The barge anchors in the center of the channel = "Pirates, you know," says Mrs. Hendriks - and after a lovely meal, they turn in for the night, sleeping on feather beds under down comforters. Luxury...

The next day is spent much as the first, then the day after, they come to the sea. "I've never been this way before," exclaims the ever-cheerful Mrs. Hendriks. "The North Sea looks particularly blue today, don't you tink?" If she only knew...this is the sea of Amber, if not its coastline...

The sea stays unusually calm, ensuring the barge is not swamped, and it takes another whole day proceeding up the coastline until the city comes into view around the point. "Oh, my, I didn't know this was here? What a wonderful adventure!" She seems brilliantly ditzy and clueless, like everyone's favorite slightly insane but pleasant aunt, and Asmundson strives mightily to keep her happy whilst availing himself of her rich table. Thank the gods he's here, or I'd have to fake it endlessly myself...

During this time, she and Eric experiment surreptitiously with their link - and it seems it can be turned off, and brought back at will by either of them, just as if it were an ordinary Trump. They can each go through to the other as well.



Standing at the rail, looking at theri Amber approaching, a Trump contact tickles her mind. She looks quizzically around, to find Eric staring at her with a inquiring expression on his face...

[chalice]

"Oh - it isn't you...Trump call...as far as I know it can only be Dworkin or Corwin..." she explains, then opens up to the contact, making sure Eric is not in sight as she does so, just in case.