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“So many…” Iankos murmured. I knew how he felt. At my most conservative estimate, there had to be two hundred thousand warriors camped below us—and maybe a lot more.
“He has brought in reinforcements since yesterday,” Co
“How can we hope to stand against that?” Iankos murmured, almost to himself.
“We will,” I said sharply, “because we must.”
He bowed his head. “A thousand pardons, Oberon. I did not mean to doubt you. Of course, with you leading us, victory is certain!”
“It is not certain… but I think it likely!”
“It's like Juniper all over again,” Co
“You're forgetting one important detail,” I said.
He glanced over at me. “What?”
“We aren't in Chaos anymore,” I said slowly. “Here, we're the masters. We control the Pattern and the Shadows. He's at our mercy.”
I crawled back and stood. When I let my vision slip into that magical sight I had found in Lord Zon's keep, everything around me took on a strange bluish glow… lines of force co
There had to be a way to use the Pattern to keep Uthor at bay. I just had to find it. We needed something big to take care of Uthor's army… a tidal wave… an earthquake… something of that size and power.
Or… maybe an avalanche? I smiled. Tons of falling rock, ice, and snow could bury most of their camp, if it hit the valley. But how?
I had called on the Pattern several times while in Chaos to strike at Lord Zon, so I knew it could be used to manipulate elements of the physical world. But could it affect a whole mountain? Could it cause an avalanche of sufficient power to bury a whole valley?
Unfortunately, we didn't have time to experiment. It might take weeks or months to learn to use the Pattern like that.
Another idea struck me. Why shouldn't we use the Logrus, too? Everyone else in my family could call on its power at will. If the Pattern couldn't cause an avalanche, maybe the Logrus could… I'd have to talk to Dad. He might be able to make it happen.
“I've seen enough,” I said to Co
He rose. “Back to Amber?”
“Yes. We'll use a Trump this time. Speed is going to be important.”
We headed back to rejoin the others, maneuvering along the mountain's curving ledge as quickly as possible. When we got there, we found them gathered around their horses.
“Let's go!” I called. “Everyone together now! Lead your horses, hands on the flank of the animal in front of you so we don't get separated!”
I pulled out my deck of Trumps and found the new card Aber had given me lying on top. I picked it up, concentrated on the castle's central courtyard, and the scene leaped to life.
Without a backward glance, I led my horse through. Mentally, I held the passage open for the others to follow, though they shouldn't have needed it, since they maintained physical contact the whole time.
When we were all safely returned, I passed my horse's reins to one of the half-dozen stableboys who came ru
Then I heard ru
“Your Highness!” An elderly steward came ru
“What is it?” I asked wearily. Couldn't the routine matters of state wait until morning?
He dropped to one knee. “Visitors are here from Chaos—waiting in the main hall—”
“What!” I cried. Co
“Lord Dworkin. He said—to bring you—at once!”
I frowned. “Who are they? Relatives?”
“I do not think so—Sire! They are—soldiers—come under a flag—of truce—”
“When did they arrive?” I demanded.
“Right after you left! They asked for Lord Dworkin. They have been behind closed doors ever since!”
“Where are Freda and Aber?” I asked.
He wrung his hands. “Gone! Fled!”
“What! Why?”
“Your father told them to, Sire!”
I didn't know what to think. Should I be alarmed? Afraid? If Aber and Freda fled…
“Any ideas?” I asked Co
“None.” He looked as puzzled as I felt.
“All right,” I said to the steward. “Take us to them. Quickly!”
“This way, Sire!”
Turning, he hurried inside, down several corridors, to the closed double-doors to one of a private meeting room. He fretted there until, with a sigh, I stepped past, threw open the doors, and entered. Co
I found Dad seated at a long table with his back to me, facing three men I did not recognize. All wore silvered chain mail. The one in the middle had a thin circlet of gold around his head; the other two had horns and vaguely reptilian scales. Wine and half a dozen banquet dishes lay before them; clearly they had eaten while awaiting my arrival.
For a second I wished I'd had time to order a crown for myself. A true king needs all the fixtures when entertaining.
Co
“Yes.” He sounded stu
“Watch my back.”
He nodded gravely, one hand dropping to rest lightly on the hilt of his sword.
Advancing, I took a position next to our father. There I crossed my arms and set my feet.
“Good evening,” I said, giving all three a polite nod—but no more acknowledgment than that. “News of your arrival just reached me. I am Oberon.”
The three men rose with languid grace. The one in the middle gave a dismissive wave of his hand.
“We were not expected,” he said. His voice sounded deeper and more melodic than I had expected. “We are pleased to find you here. Your father has been kind enough to entertain us while we waited for your return. He has… a most refreshing wit.”
All three chuckled at that. I left my own expression carefully blank, but surreptitiously studied Uthor. When he smiled, I saw that his teeth had been filed to needlelike points. It wasn't pleasant. I could easily believe he had killed my brothers—and so many others.
Despite their beautiful armor, neither he nor his men bore any weapons. They had probably left them behind under the flag of truce. Still, I knew well that they could summon their swords using the Logrus faster than I could draw my own.
“May I present my son,” Dad said without bothering to look behind himself. “Oberon, this is King Uthor of Chaos.”
I felt my hackles rising. This was the man who had destroyed Juniper. This was the man who had helped kill so many of my friends and family. More than anything else, I wanted his head on a pole over the castle gates.
Somehow, I managed to control my temper.
“An honor,” I said, forcing myself to be polite.
“Of course it is,” Uthor said. He gave a formal bow. When I returned it, he sat back down heavily.
“May we offer you the hospitality of Amber?” I asked. That seemed the most appropriate thing to say.
“Thank you. Dworkin has made us quite comfortable. You may leave us.”
“I am king here,” I said, putting an edge in my voice and leaning forward. “You will talk to me or not at all.”
“King?” Uthor said, smirking. “How… charmingly presumptuous.” He raked his gaze up and down my travel-stained clothes. “You wear your title well, sir.”
“At least I have the ma
“Of course you do.” He actually smirked.
“May I remind you, Uthor, that you are a guest in my home?”
He sighed. “We are not here to challenge titles, no matter how trivial.” I bristled at that. Uthor leaned back in his seat. “Your father has told us something of your making, after all.”