The Courts Of Chaos

He chuckled, sighted and fired.

I bent low, holding the rock before my middle, but the bolt struck about two feet to my right.

“I had sort of guessed that might happen,” he said, begi

I looked about for smaller stones to use for ammunition as I had earlier. There were none nearby. I wondered about the Jewel then. It was supposed to act to save me in the presence of immediate peril. But I had a fu

Brand was almost ready to shoot again. The wind began to scream through the pass.

I do not know where his next-shot landed. Nowhere near me, though. He fell to readying his weapon again. I began setting up the factors for a lightningstroke...

When he was ready, when he raised the weapon this time, I raised the winds once more. I saw him sight, I saw him draw a breath and hold it. Then he lowered the bow and stared at me.

“It just occurred to me,” he called out, “you've got that wind in your pocket, haven't you? That is cheating, Corwin.”

He looked all about.

“I should be able to find a footing where it will not matter, though. Aha!”

I kept working to set things up to blast him, but conditions were not ready yet. I looked up at that red-and black-streaked sky, something cloud-like forming above us.. . Soon, but not yet.. .

Brand faded and vanished again. Wildly, I sought him everywhere.

Then he faced me. He had come over to my side of the pass. He stood about ten meters to the south of me, with the wind at his back, I knew that I could not shift it in time. I wondered about throwing my rock. He would probably duck and I would be throwing away my shield. On the other hand...

He raised the weapon to his shoulder.

Stall! cried my own voice within my mind, while I continued to tamper with the heavens.

“Before you shoot. Brand, tell me one thing. All right?”

He hesitated, then lowered the weapon a few inches.

“What?”

“Were you telling me the truth about what happened-with Dad, the Pattern, the coming of Chaos?”

He threw back his head and laughed, a series of short barks.

“Corwin,” he stated then, “it pleases me more than I can say to see you die not knowing something that means that much to you.”

He laughed again and began to raise the weapon. I had just moved to hurl my rock and rush him. But neither of us completed either action.

There came a great shriek from overhead, and a piece of the sky seemed to detach itself and fall upon Brand's head. He screamed and dropped the crossbow. He raised his hands to tear at the thing that assailed him. The red bird, the Jewel bearer, born of my blood from my father's hand, had returned, to defend me.

I let go the rock and advanced upon him, drawing my blade as I went. Brand struck the bird and it flapped away, gaining altitude, circling for another dive. He raised both arms to cover his face and head, but not before I saw the blood that flowed from his left eye socket.

He began to fade again even as I rushed toward him. But the bird descended like a bomb and its talons struck Brand about the head once again. Then the bird, too, began to fade. Brand was reaching for his ruddy assailant and being slashed by it as they both disappeared.

When I reached the place of the action the only thing that remained was the fallen crossbow, and I smashed it with my boot.

Not yet, not yet the end, damn it! How long will you plague me, brother? How far must I go to bring it to an end between us?

I climbed back down to the trail. Star was not yet dead and I had to finish the job. Sometimes I think I'm in the wrong business.

CHAPTER 7

A bowl of cotton candy.

Having traversed the pass, I regarded the valley that lay before me. At least, I assumed that it was a valley. I could see nothing below its cover of cloud/mist/fog.

In the sky, one of the red streaks was turning yellow; another, green. I was slightly heartened by this, as the sky had behaved in a somewhat similar fashion when I had visited the edge of things, across from the Courts of Chaos.

I hitched up my pack and began hiking down the trail. The winds diminished as I went. Distantly, I heard some thunder from the storm I was fleeing. I wondered where Brand had gone. I had a feeling that I would not be seeing him again for a time.

Partway down, with the fog just begi

“Damn you!” came something like a voice from within it.

“You're sentient?” I said. “I'm sorry...”

“I spent a long time growing that branch. I suppose you are going to burn it now?”

“No,” I said. “I needed a staff. I've a long walk before me.”

“Through this valley?”

“That's right.”

“Come closer, that I may better sense your presence. There is something about you that glows.”

I took a step forward.

“Oberon!” it said. “I know thy Jewel.”

“Not Oberon,” I said. “I am his son. I wear it on his mission, though.”

“Then take my limb, and have my blessing with it. I've sheltered your father on many a strange day. He planted me, you see.”

“Really? Planting a tree is one of the few things I never saw Dad do.”

“I am no ordinary tree. He placed me here to mark a boundary.”

“Of what sort?”

“I am the end of Chaos and of Order, depending upon how you view me. I mark a division. Beyond me other rules apply.”

“What rules?”

“Who can say? Not I. I am only a growing tower of sentient lumber. My staff may comfort you, however. Planted, it may blossom in strange climes. Then again, it may not. Who can say? Bear it with you, however, son of Oberon, into the place where you journey now. I feel a storm approaching. Good-bye.”

“Good-bye,” I said. “Thank you.”

I turned and walked on down the trail into the deepening fog. The pinkness was drained from it as I went. I shook my head as I thought about the tree, but its staff proved useful for the next several hundred meters, where the going was particularly rough.

Then things cleared a bit. Rocks, a stagnant pool, some small, dreary trees festooned with ropes of moss, a smell of decay... hurried by. A dark bird was watching me from one of the trees.

It took wing as I regarded it, flapping in a leisurely fashion in my direction. Recent events having left me a little bird-shy, I drew back as it circled my head. But then it fluttered to rest on the trail before me, cocked its head and viewed me with its left eye.

“Yes,” it a

“The one what?” I said.

“The one I will accompany. You've no objection to a bird of ill omen following you, have you, Corwin?” It chuckled then, and executed a little dance.

“Offhand, I do not see how I can stop you. How is it that you know my name?”

“I've been waiting for you since the begi

“Must have been a bit tiresome.”

“It has not been all that long, in this place. Time is what you make of it.”

I resumed walking. I passed the bird and kept going. Moments later, it flashed by me and landed atop a rock off to my right.

“My name is Hugi,” he stated. “You are carrying a piece of old Ygg, I see.”