Sign of the Unicorn

“Really?”

“Well, no,” she admitted. “Not an accident. He said there had been a fight and he had injured you. He thought you were going to die, and he did not want the blame. So he transported you off into Shadow and left you there, in that place. After a long while, he decided that you must be dead, that it was finally all over between you. My news naturally disturbed him. So he swore me to secrecy and sent me back to keep you under surveillance. I had a good excuse for being there, as I had already told everyone how much I liked the place.”

“You didn't promise to keep silent for nothing. Flora. What did he give you?”

“He gave me his word that should he ever come into power here in Amber, I would not be forgotten.”

“A little risky,” I said. “After all, that would still leave you with something on him-knowledge of the whereabouts of a rival claimant, and of his part in putting him there.”

“True. But things sort of balanced out, and I would have to admit having become an accomplice in order to talk about it.”

I nodded.

“Tight, but not impossible,” I agreed. “But did you think he would let me continue living if he ever did get a chance at the throne?”

“That was never discussed. Never.”

“It must have crossed your mind, though.”

“Yes, later,” she said, “and I decided that he would probably do nothing. After all, it was begi

“So you stayed on to watch me, to see that I remained harmless?”

“Yes.”

“What would you have done had I shown signs of recovering my memory?”

She looked at me, then looked away.

“I would have reported it to Eric.”

“And what would he have done then?”

“I don't know.”

I laughed a little, and she blushed. I could not remember the last time I had seen Flora blush.

“I will not belabor the obvious,” I said. “All right, you stayed on, you watched me. What next? What happened?”

“Nothing special. You just went on leading your life and I went on keeping track of it.”

“All of the others knew where you were?”

“Yes. I'd make no secret of my whereabouts. In fact, all of them came around to visit me at one time or another.”

“That includes Random?”

She curled her lip.

“Yes, several times,” she said.

“Why the sneer?”

“It is too late to start pretending I like him,” she said. “You know. I just don't like the people he associates with-assorted criminals, jazz musicians... I had to show him family courtesy when he was visiting my shadow, but he put a big strain on my nerves, bringing those people around at all hours-jam sessions, poker parties. The place usually reeked for weeks afterward and I was always glad to see him go. Sorry. I know you like him, but you wanted the truth.”

“He offended your delicate sensibilities. Okay. I now direct your attention to the brief time when I was your guest. Random joined us rather abruptly. Pursuing him were half a dozen nasty fellows whom we dispatched in your living room.”

“I recall the event quite vividly.”

“Do you recall the guys responsible-the creatures we had to deal with?”

“Yes.”

“Sufficiently well to recognize one if you ever saw another?”

“I think so.”

“Good. Had you ever seen one before?”

“No.”

“Since?”

“No.”

“Had you ever heard them described anywhere?”

“Not that I can remember. Why?”

I shook my head.

“Not yet. This is my inquisition, remember? Now I want you to think back for a time before that evening. Back to the event that put me in Greenwood. Maybe even a little earlier. What happened, and how did you find out about it? What were the circumstances? What was your part in things?”

“Yes,” she said. “I knew you would ask me that sooner or later. What happened was that Eric contacted me the day after it occurred-from Amber, via my Trump.”

She glanced at me again, obviously to see how I was taking it, to study my reactions. I remained expressionless.

“He told me you had been in a bad accident the previous evening, and that you were hospitalized. He told me to have you transferred to a private place, one where I could have more say as to the course of your treatment.”

“In other words, he wanted me to stay a vegetable.”

“He wanted them to keep you sedated.”

“Did he or did he not admit to being responsible for the accident?”

“He did not say that he had had someone shoot out your tire, but he did know that that was what had happened. How else could he have known? When I learned later that he was pla

“I was not aware that the tire had been shot out,” I said.

Her face changed. She recovered.

“You told me that you knew it was not an accident-that someone had tried to kill you. I assumed you were aware of the specifics.”

I was treading on slightly mucky ground again for the first time in a long while. I still had a bit of amnesia, and I had decided I probably always would. My memories of the few days prior to the accident were still spotty. The Pattern had restored the lost memories of my entire life up until then, but the trauma appeared to have destroyed recollection of some of the events immediately preceding it. Not an uncommon occurrence. Organic damage rather than simple functional distress, most likely. I was happy enough to have all the rest back, so those did not seem especially lamentable. As to the accident itself, and my feelings that it had been more than an accident, I did recall the gunshots. There had been two of them. I might even have glimpsed the figure with the rifle-fleetingly, too late. Or maybe that was pure fantasy. It seemed that I had, though. I had had something like that in mind when I had headed out for Westchester. Even at this late time. though, when I held the power in Amber, I was loath to admit this single deficiency. I had faked my way with Flora before with a lot less to go on. I decided to stick with a wi

“I was in no position to get out and see what had been hit,” I said. “I heard the shots. I lost control. I had assumed that it was a tire, but I never knew for sure. The only reason I raised the question was because I was curious as to how you knew it was a tire.”

“I already told you that Eric told me about it.”

“It was the way that you said it that bothered me. You made it sound as if you already knew all the details before he contacted you.”

She shook her head.

“Then pardon my syntax,” she said. “That sometimes happens when you look at things after the fact. I am going to have to deny what you are implying. I had nothing to do with it and I had no prior knowledge that it had occurred.”

“Since Eric is no longer around to confirm or deny anything, we will simply have to let it go,” I said, “for now,” and I said it to make her look even harder to her defense, to direct her attention away from any possible slip, either in word or expression, from which she might infer the small flaw which still existed in my memory.

“Did you later become aware of the identity of the person with the gun?” I asked.

“Never,” she said. “Most likely some hired thug. I don't know.”

“Have you any idea how long I was unconscious before someone found me, took me to a hospital?”

She shook her head again.

Something was bothering me and I could not quite put my finger on it.

“Did Eric say what time I had been taken into the hospital?”

“No.”

“When I was with you, why did you try walking back to Amber rather than using Eric's Trump?”