The Courts Of Chaos

I glanced back over the abyss to be sure that no new menaces were approaching from that direction. I drew my blade. When I reached my goal, I stayed close to the escarpment and worked my way northward. I dropped low when I came to its edge and peered around.

There was no red glow. No shadowy figure either. The stony recess appeared to be empty. There was nothing suspicious anywhere in the vicinity. Could he have teleported again? And if so, why?

I rose and passed about the rocky rise. I continued moving in that direction. I tried once more to feel the Jewel, and this time I made a faint contact with it-somewhere off to my right and above, it seemed.

Silent, wary, I moved that way. Why had he left his shelter? He had been perfectly situated for what he had been about. Unless...

I heard a scream and a curse. Two different voices. I began to run.

CHAPTER 11

I passed the niche and kept going. Beyond it, there was a natural trail winding upward. I mounted this.

I could see no one as yet, but my sense of the Jewel's presence grew stronger as I moved. I thought that I heard a single footfall from off to my right and I whirled in that direction, but there was no one in sight. The Jewel did not feel that near either, so I continued.

As I neared the top of the rise, the black drop of Chaos hanging behind, I heard voices. I could not distinguish what was being said, but the words were agitated.

I slowed as I neared the crest, lowered myself and peered around the side of a rock.

Random was a small distance ahead of me and Fiona was with him, as were Lords Chantris and Feldane. All, save Fiona, held weapons as if ready to use them, but they stood perfectly still. They were staring toward the edge of things-a shelf of rock slightly above their level and perhaps fifteen meters distant-the place where the abyss began.

Brand stood in that place, and he was holding Deirdre before him. She was unhelmed, her hair blowing wild, and he had a dagger at her throat. It appeared that he had already cut her slightly. I dropped back.

I heard Random say softly, “Is there nothing more you can do, Fi?”

“I can hold him here,” she said, “and at this range, I can slow his efforts at weather control. But that is all. He's got some attunement with it and I do not. He also has proximity going for him. Anything else I might try, he can counter.”

Random gnawed his lower lip.

“Put down your weapons,” Brand called out. “Do it now, or Deirdre's dead.”

“Kill her,” Random said, “and you lose the only thing that's keeping you alive. Do it, and I'll show you where I'II put my weapon.”

Brand muttered something under his breath. Then: “Okay. -I will start by mutilating her.”

Random spat.

“Come on!” he said. “She can regenerate as well as the rest of us. Find a threat that means something, or shut up and fight it out!”

Brand was still. I thought it better not to reveal my presence. There must be something I could do. I ventured another look, mentally photographing the terrain before I dropped back. There were some rocks way off to the left, but they did not extend far enough. I saw no way that I might sneak up on him.

“I think we are going to have to rush him and chance it,” I heard Random say. “I don't see anything else. Do you?”

Before anyone answered him, a strange thing occurred. The day began to grow brighter.

I looked all about me for the source of the illumination, then sought it overhead.

The clouds were still there, the crazy sky doing its tricks beyond them. The brightness was in the clouds, however. They had paled and were now glowing, as if they masked a sun. Even as I watched, there was a perceptible brightening.

“What is he up to now?” Chantris asked.

“Nothing that I can tell,” Fiona said. “I do not believe it is his doing.”

“Whose then?” There was no answer that I could overhear.

I watched the clouds grow brighter. The largest and brightest of them seemed to swirl then, as if stirred. Forms tossed within it, settled. An outline began to take shape.

Below me, on the field, the sounds of battle lessened. The storm itself was muted as the vision grew. Something was definitely forming in the bright place above our heads-the lines of an enormous face.

“I do not know, I tell you,” I heard Fiona say in response to something mumbled.

Before it finished taking form, I realized that it was my father's face in the sky. Neat trick, that. And I had no idea what it represented either.

The face moved, as if he were regarding us all. There were lines of strain there, and something of concern to his expression. The brightness grew a little further. His lips moved.

When his voice came down to me it was somehow at an ordinary conversational level, rather than the vast booming I had expected:

“I send you this message,” he said, “before undertaking the repair of the Pattern. By the time you receive it, I will already have succeeded or failed. It will precede the wave of Chaos which must accompany my endeavor. I have reason to believe the effort will prove fatal to me.”

His eyes seemed to sweep across the field.

“Rejoice or mourn, as you would,” he went on, “for this is either the begi

I heard Brand's laugh. He sounded quite mad now.

“With my passing,” the voice continued, “the problem of the succession will be upon you. I had wishes in this regard, but I see now that these were futile. Therefore, I have no choice but to leave this on the horn of the Unicorn.

“My children, I ca

Then his face began to fade and the brightness drained out of the cloudbank. A little while, and it was gone. A stillness lay upon the field.

“.. . and, as you can see,” I heard Brand saying, “Corwin does not have the Jewel. Throw down your weapons and get the hell out of here. Or keep them and get out. I do not care. Leave me alone. I have things to do.”

“Brand,” Fiona said, “can you do what he wanted of Corwin? Can you use it to make that thing miss us?”

“I could if I would,” he said. “Yes, I could turn it aside.”

“You will be a hero if you do,” she said gently. “You will earn our gratitude. All past wrongs will be forgiven. Forgiven and forgotten. We-”

He began to laugh wildly.

“You forgive me?” he said. “You, who left me in that tower, who put the knife into my side? Thank you, sister. It is very kind of you to offer to forgive me, but excuse me if I decline.”

“All right,” Random said, “what do you want? An apology? Riches and treasure? An important appointment? All of these? They are yours. But this is a stupid game you are playing. Let us end it and go home, pretend it was all a bad dream.”

“Yes, let us end it,” Brand replied. “You do that by throwing down your weapons first. Then Fiona releases me from her spell, you all do an about-face and march north. You do it or I kill Deirdre.”

“Then I think you had better go ahead and kill her and be ready to fight it out with me,” he said, “because she will be dead in a little while anyway, if we let you have your way. All of us will.”

I heard Brand's chuckle.

“Do you honestly think I am going to let you die? I need you-as many of you as I can save. Hopefully Deirdre, too. You are the only ones who can appreciate my triumph. I will preserve you through the holocaust that is about to begin.”