The Great Book of Amber

“Probably. But you've gotten me very curious. When did you start thinking this way? Might it coincide with your treatment in the Fountain? What if my interruption made yours closer to the correct course there?”

“It's possible there's something to that,” he said.

“I'm glad now I didn't go the full route. I suspect it might have driven me mad, as it did Brand. But it may not have been that at all. Or-I don't know.”

There was silence as I sidled along a passageway, my puzzled images keeping pace in the mirrors at either hand.

“She didn't want me to kill you,” he finally blurted from somewhere off to my right.

“Julia?”

“Yes.”

“How is she?”

“Recovering. Pretty rapidly, actually.”

“Is she here at Sawall?”

“Yes.”

“Look, I'd like to see her. But if she doesn't want to, I understand. I didn't know it was her when I stabbed Mask, and I'm sorry.”

“She never really wanted to hurt you. Her quarrel was with Jasra. With you, it was an elaborate game. She wanted to prove she was as good as-maybe better than-you. She wanted to show you what you'd thrown away.”

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“Tell me one thing, please,” he said. “Did you love her? Did you ever really love her?”

I didn't answer him immediately. After all, I'd asked myself that question many times, and I'd had to wait for the answer, too.

“Yes,” I finally said. “I didn't realize it till it was too late, though. Bad timing on my part.”

A little later I asked, “What about you?”

“I'm not going to make the same mistake you did,” he replied. “She's what got me to thinking about all these things...”

“I understand. If she won't see me, tell her that I said I'm sorry-about everything.”

There was no reply. I stood still for a time, hoping he'd catch up with me, but he didn't.

Then, “Okay,” I called out. “Our duel's ended, so far as I'm concerned.”

I began moving again. After a time, I came to an exit and I stepped through it.

He was standing outside, looking up at a massive porcelain face.

“Good,” he said.

I drew near.

“There's more,” he said, still not looking at me.

“Oh?”

“I think they're stacking the deck,” he stated.

“Who? How? What for?”

“Mom and the Logrus,” he told me. “To put you on the throne. Who's the bride of the Jewel?”

“I guess that would be Coral. It seems I did hear Dara use that term at some point. Why?”

“I overheard her giving orders last cycle, to some of her Hendrake kin. She's sending a special team to kidnap this woman and bring her here. I got the impression she's intended as your queen.”

“That's ridiculous,” I said. “She's married to my friend Luke. She's Queen of Kashfa—”

He shrugged.

“Just telling you what I heard,” he said. “It had to do with this balancing of forces thing.”

Indeed. I hadn't thought of that possibility, but it made perfect sense. With Coral, the Courts would automatically obtain the Jewel of Judgment, or the Eye of the Serpent as it was known hereabout, and that balance would certainly be affected. A loss for Amber, a gain for the Courts. It could be sufficient to achieve what I wanted, the harmony that might postpone catastrophe indefinitely.

Too bad I couldn't let it occur. The poor girl had been jerked around too much, because she happened to be in Amber at the wrong time, because she happened to take a liking to me. I can recall once feeling philosophical in the abstract and deciding, yes, it would be okay to sacrifice one i

“How long ago did she send these people off, Jurt?” “I don't know when they left-or even if they've left yet,” he replied. “And with the time differential, they could be gone and back already for that matter.”

“True,” I said, and, “Shit!”

He turned and looked at me.

“It's important in all sorts of other ways, too, I suppose?” he said.

“It is to her, and she is to me,” I answered.

His expression changed to one of puzzlement.

“In that case,” he said, “why don't you just let them bring her to you? If you have to take the throne, it will sweeten things. If you don't, you'll have her with you, anyhow.”

“Feelings are hard enough to keep secret, even around non-sorcerers,” I said. “She could be used as a hostage against my behavior.”

“Oh. I hate to say this pleases me. What I mean is... I'm pleased you care about someone else.”

I lowered my head. I wanted to reach out and touch him, but I didn't.

Jurt made a little humming noise, as he sometimes had when pondering things as a kid. Then, “We've got to get her before they do, and move her to someplace safe,” he said. “Or take her away from them if they've already got her.”

“ `We'?”

He smiled, a rare event.

“You know what I've become. I'm tough.”

“I hope so,” I said. “But you know what'll happen. ; if there are any witnesses to say it was a couple of the Sawall brothers behind this? Most likely a vendetta with Hendrake.”

“Even if Dara talked them into it?”

“It'll look like she set them up.”

“Okay,” he said. “No witnesses.”

I could have said that averting vendetta would save a lot of other lives, but that would have sounded hypocritical even if I didn't mean it that way. Instead, “That power you gained in the Fountain,” I said, “gives you something I've heard referred to as a `living Trump' effect. Seems to me you were able to transport Julia as well as yourself with it.”

He nodded.

“Can it get us from here to Kashfa in a hurry?” The distant sound of an enormous gong filled the air. “I can do anything the cards can do,” he said, “and

I can take someone along with me. The only problem is that the Trumps themselves don't have that range. I'd have to take us there in a series of jumps.”

The gong sounded again.

“What's going on?” I asked.

“The noise?” he said. “That's notice that the funeral is about to begin. It can be heard throughout the Courts.”

“Bad timing.”

“Maybe, maybe not. It's giving me an idea.” “Tell me about it.”

“It's our alibi if we have to take out some Hendrakes.”

“How so?”

“The time differential. We go to the funeral and get seen. We slip out, run our errand, come back, and attend the rest of the service.”

“You think the flow will allow that?”

“I think there's a good chance, yes. I've done a lot of jumping around. I'm starting to get a real feel for flows.”

“Then we'll give it a try. The more confusion the better.”

Again, the gong.

Red, the color of the fire of life that fills us, is the color of mourning garments in the Courts. I used the spikard rather than the Sign of the Logrus to summon suitable clothing for myself. I'd a desire to avoid any commerce, even the most mundane, with that Power, for now.

Jurt then trumped us to his quarters, where he had suitable garments of his own from the last funeral he'd attended. I'd a small desire to see my old room, too. Sometime, perhaps, when I wasn't rushed...

We washed up, combed, trimmed, dressed quickly. I took on a changed form then, as did Jurt, and we went through the ritual again at this level, before garbing ourselves for the occasion. Shirt, breeches, jacket, cloak, anklets, bracelets, scarf, and banda

“Ready?” Jurt asked me.