A treat from an old campaign (Selene and Nick)

Chapter 2: Juliana

When I first saw her, I didn't think much of her. I was at a recital. Mostly, I was there to give the parents and other such observers an opportunity to see what little Johnny or Janey could turn into with some practice. I was there so it wouldn't be a wasted trip for them, but I didn't mind. I love performing.

Of course, I was sober for this. It wouldn't do to pass out in front of people, or start singing impromptu. And since I wasn't inebriated, that meant having visions.

The visions have been around for as long as I can remember, most days. Then, most days, I normally can't remember where I live either. I think they started after my Father left us. At any rate, since some point (traumatic point the shrinks say) I could see things, see different people. Ghosts. Spirits. Things that have yet to be, or have been, or would never be. I was never quite certain on what they meant, if anything. Mostly, they were a jumble of images that didn't add up, a crazy quilt of insanity, knitted together by my damned head.

I had seen her only briefly while I was on stage. Just some lower class person here to see a brother or sister. It was after the recital, when families were collecting their own. I had given a brilliant performance (as always), and was milling sociably through the crowd, accepting praise. I bumped into her then, and turned to apologize. It was her eyes that caught me, first blue, then flickered to green and violet. I cursed aloud then, and she stepped back in surprise, but the visions had caught me again, when I wasn't expecting it. Much like relatives dropping in for a visit...and their dog just piddled on the rug.

Her eyes did catch me though, and keep me looking, though by all rights I should have wrenched my eyes away from her. They were...so kind. So loving. The rest of her changed in microseconds, flipping from one face to another, but the eyes were the same. Differently colored at points, but they were all the same expression of tenderness. I had never seen such loveliness before in my life. It was like looking into another person's soul, and finding what one expected there...a perfect being, something to be worshipped like (Father) God.

I shook my head, and suddenly everything cleared. I caught the trail end of one of those inane questions like 'are you alright', and just waved the inquisitor away. What I saw before me was those same eyes that had entranced me so attached to a rather homely looking girl, that was one of the 'punks' you read so much about in the news. Her hair was a shock of electric blue, and her clothes clung too tight (and clashed horribly with one another, except the black jacket) to her rather pudgy frame. I said what came to mind, "Good Lord!"

The girl, that lovely slip of a girl, reeled back wounded by my expression and vehemenance on the matter, and slapped me. I never said it was an auspicious start.

I threw myself down on my knees, "Fair lady! I beg your forgiveness!" At that, everyone looked on at me as if I was insane, her included. "I love you!" I cried impulsively. "Marry me!"

At that, she giggled, and relaxed. It was lovely. Contrite as you please, she answered, "Only if you get up off your knees, dear."

Since then, we hit it off wonderfully. She was the most exquisite and sensitive creature to ever grace this Earth. Her name was Juliana, though I called her Juliet after that play, and we fell madly in love. She had fallen into the 'punk' atmosphere because one needed to blend in to survive in the lower classes. I moved out of my house, and into an apartment on the lower side of town, much to Mother's shock and disapproval. I dyed my hair, and wore the clothes of the poor people, the leathers and tight shirts, with loud colors and metal spikes. I did whatever my Juliet wished; I would have given her the stars had she asked for them. We did, eventually, plan to marry. We shared kisses and held hands. I wrote song after song for her, and she wrote poems for me that I treasure to this day. For her, I gave up the laundanum, and the heroin. I even cut my drinking down, and started to learn to deal with my delusions. It was hard, but she was worth it.

It all ended horribly and miserably, you know. That's what happens. That's why the two people involved in these affairs are called 'star-crossed'. It was over an argument about me getting a job, like the poor folk, of all the silly things. She didn't want me to, and I wanted to. She wanted me to protect my hands, and I said I didn't care. She called me a selfish bastard, and I hit her.

I can still see that moment.

She falls, and I'm too late to catch her. Even some part of me thinks, "Good. She hurt me; she deserves it." I hear a loud crack as her head hits the coffee table, and suddenly, my heart stops. I rush to her side, but it's too late. I cradle her head, and my hand comes back bloody. I scream.

And that's about all I remember. Everything's rather a blur after that, but...that's all I care to remember. I don't even care to remember that, but I can't forget it. A slap started this relationship...and a slap ended it. Forever.

I hate that word, don't you? Forever. For-Ever. For Ever.

Chapter 4: Beloved Sister, Indifferent Aunt

So, there I was in the asylum. I had gone mad willingly. I was miserable, and wanted to die. Is everyone caught up? Good.

Recently, I've had a question from one of you. "Why, good sir, do you tell this story in segments that don't match? Why is it not continuous?" Let me tell you...who would want to read the boring parts? Surely, important things happened to me in my childhood, and young teenagehood, and even adulthood. But do you really want to read all the tedious details? Do you want to read that I got up, brushed my teeth, got dressed, and so forth? I didn't think so. So be quiet, and let me tell my tale how I will.

Days passed into each other in an unending blur. I had visions, I ate, I slept. That was the whole sum of my existence, other than a trip down the orange hallway now and again, to have blood drawn, shocks administered, pieces cut off, and the like.

There was a rattle in my cage some morning. I think it was a Tuesday. An orderly walked in, then a doctor, then one who was neither. Her hair was fire-kissed as was my father's and her form was similar to his, except much more feminine. I looked at her hands: small and thin, with delicate fingers and trimmed nails. She was no commoner. She was one of us. I looked up, and her eyes was his. I screamed then, and threw myself at her, yearning to tear those eyes out of her head. The orderly beat me with his stick, until her voice cut clear of the haze.

"Enough." He stopped. I cringed.

"Doctor," she said with an accent so faint I'm sure none other could hear it, "is this how you treat you patients?"

"Ma'am, some of them are like that. They are violent, as you have seen yourself just now."

"Why doctor," she said, smooth as summer silk, "My nephew was just happy to see me."

Nephew? I thought, as the doctor gaped, and blustered an apology. I had been right--she was from my father's side then, and suddenly I felt ashamed of myself. She went on to talk to him, while I sat there, blood trickling down the back of my neck. It couldn't be, I kept thinking, but it was. And I knew it. I didn't know how, but I did.

I studied her again, and I saw other familiar features, some of which I shared. Our hands, of course, were both similar to Father's, but the resemblance did not end there. I could catalogue them for you, but let me move on.

The long and the short of it was that she got me out of that place. They bathed me, and fixed my head (with stitches for the cut), and I let them. They dressed me in my clothes, sorely mismatched from when I was thrown in here. While I was never robust, they hung off my frame now indicating the weight I had lost. When I looked in the mirror, my eyes were nothing but hollows in my skull, and a beard graced my jaw. I was...unkempt, and a stranger to myself. They wanted to shave me, but I forbade them that for fear that one of them would "slip" and my throat would be cut.

One lesson I learned there, and learned it well: Trust no one.

They released me to her care, and we walked out into the sunlight and to her car. I fumbled with the door, until she gave an exasperated tsk and opened it for me. She went round the other side, and entered, turning to face me.

"I don't know you," I said slowly, frowning.

"Look at me," she replied. "Really look at me."

I did as she bade, memorizing her features. Things shifted as some of the visions started to cloud my head, and it was hard to concentrate. Then, it came to me...she wasn't changing at all. Not one bit. Not an iota...not even her clothes. And there was something else, some sort of ... sort of...

"That's enough," she said briskly, touching my hand gently. The visions were suddenly gone, and I blinked rapidly as a headache came on. "You may call me Fiona. And you are Nick. Brand's son."

I nodded dumbly. What else was there to do?

"We're leaving now. I'm taking you to your true home, where..." she hesistated, "...you will be safe." All this was said in a monotone, without inflection. What she was really saying was thus: I'm taking you where I want you to be, where I can watch you. I'm taking you away from this place because you are dangerous. I'm taking you away...and you better not forget it. I nodded warily, but couldn't help but to feel warm to her, as she rescued me. How could I not be grateful?

She started driving, though I wasn't sure to where, exactly. She said little, except to tell me that Brand, Father(God), was her full brother, as was Bleys. She told me the rest of their names, my half-uncles and half-aunts, those that were still alive, at any rate. She handed me a deck to go through, and put the faces to names. The cards were slippery and something cold, but interesting. She took them back once the lesson was done, and said nothing else. After a small while, she stopped the car, and bade me to get out. It was a dark wilderness, and it frightened me. I could see...things...Shadows....moving in the darkness. In irritation, she yanked the door open, and yanked me out as easily as if I were a child.

Once I was out, and whimpering, she showed me another card. "Look at it." I did so, feeling it in my hands. It was of a castle, of a beautiful castle, and I felt all those fairytales my mother told me when I was younger come rushing back. I wanted to be there, and watched in amazement as the card unfolded in my hands, becoming more real and vibrant, more...more...more...is the only way to describe it. She laughed, like a child would, and it was gay.

"I can see you hold some of Brand's intellect in your head, but not much, do you? No matter, take my hand, and pass it like so..." I did as she bade, and watched her step into the scene, and watched her on the other side, carrying a case of sorts, it looked. I looked at my surroundings, and it was the same dark forest. Something was moving in the darkness. It wanted my heat, my warmth, my life. I looked back through the card, and eerily, she was looking at me, though she couldn't possibly be.

She just watched as the bushes near me rumbled, and in haste I moved forward, and found myself beside her suddenly. She nodded then, and plucked the card from my nerveless hand. The case, it ended up, was my violin. I took that from her, my aunt, when she handed it to me, and that was that.

That was how I came to be here, in Amber, at the least. I will spare you the bloody details, but it turned out Father was not well liked here, something of a rogue, an outlaw. It took some sifting through rumor to learn the tale that had undone him, and when I did, my heart sank. I even cursed him when I learned I had a trueborn brother Rinaldo, and I was just Brand's bastard son. That drove me mad again for a time, as rage coursed though my veins. I ended up in the castle dungeon for that one, with a rather nice etching upon the wall. I stayed there for a long while, until Random, both my uncle and my King now, felt it safe to let me out again.

I tried to hunt Fiona down, and talk to her, but she avoided me easily and deftly. In the open, she was indifferent at best, and privily it was like I did not exist. I owed her, that was true, but it was more to my thinking that my aunt might have felt pity for me, or something... That nothingness was too much like Father, but at least she didn't go out of her way to make me miserable. That was easy enough by myself.

And here, the visions nearly ended. Not quite...I think they shall always be with me, to the end of my days...but almost. This place was Real you see, blessedly Real, and there was no immediate reflections, no possibilities that I could catch glimpse of. That, and the Pattern ended it for me.

I don't believe they were going to allow me to walk it at all. After the first few days, I felt...power? I felt the castle walls vibrating with it, and smelled it in the air. I longed for that, and suddenly, it was an obession. I traced the walls of the castle, I hunted on my hands and knees, much to the gapings of the staff and family alike. I looked everywhere, and when it seemed I would not find it, I did.

I won't go any further, as I believe that's all you really need to know. Did I walk it? Of course I did. It granted me freedom, and sanity once more. Ever after than moment, my mind was mine. Mostly, at the least.

Chapter 6: Cousins, Cousins, Everywhere...

I awoke with a start, refraining from crying out instinctively. Yes, yes, I know. It's all generic, isn't it? How stories start, and how the hero is always right and all that. This is just another start now, hmm? Just another page in some unseen story, and we're all the characters to live or die by some unknown author's whim. But I did awake from some bad dreams. Why they were sent to me I know not, but...I felt they were a warning somehow.

They were composed of mostly my uncle Benedict. He was doing what he does best: killing. Except, in this case, it wasn't some enemy threatening Amber (or perhaps it was, how do I know?); he was killing blood kin, cousins of mine. How I knew they were cousins, I don't know, but as with all dreams, that knowledge is just imparted upon you, known to the depth of your being.

I crawled out of bed in some disarray. I had been on a bender for a few days--the last couple being no more than a blur. My head pounded, but that was already receding thankfully. I somewhat arranged myself and opened the door to my chambers, intending on getting some food, and something to drink. Two guards were there. They succinctly informed me that I was confined to chambers by Julian, yet another uncle, and one who never liked me in the slightest. What a bothersome day this was turning out to be. So, I sent them away for a servant, and shut the door again.

What to do? I pondered this as I sat down in my favorite chair, overstuffed and entirely too comfortable. Sometimes, dreams and visions intertwined until I could not tell them apart. Also, while I don't exactly know what the visions are, or what they mean, sometimes they can be useful. Sometimes, they can be bent to my will. No, no, nothing like using people in the visions, but...well, bother and rot. It'd take days to explain it, and end up explaining nothing. Just keep in mind that sometimes they aren't always unwelcome.

I was deep in my contemplation of them, and wondering where my cousins were when I was startled out of my reverie by a kiss. It wasn't an ordinary kiss, nor was it an ordinary woman who was giving it to me.

I jumped back from surprise, or would have but I was seated. She seemed rather startled as well. I drank in her perfect form, with dark hair and skin like cream, and stammered out a response of sorts, "Gracious lady...I am not...accustomed to being accosted in my bedchamber." That was certainly the truth. "If you would care to explain," I went on, gathering my wits about me as I spoke, "surely I won't need to call for the guards that stand right outside this room." She was wearing the most interesting thing, a sort of tight suit, all in black. I had seen those somewhere before, but the sight of her form in that outfit and my wits all but left me again. Women do tend to do that to me. That's why I stay away from them, but...I digress.

"I really wish you wouldn't," she said in a breathy sigh as she twisted before I could react and seated herself in my lap. Being so close to her, I could see her a bit more in the dim light, with eyes like stars, and skin like cream. Her dark hair framed her angelic face, and my body stirred at the contact. Something which she couldn't have missed. I felt my face flush slightly, but the dim light that made it difficult to see her hid the blush.

Her next words stunned me.

"It simply wouldn't do, baby brother, for me to be put in a position where I would have to break some of Random's toy soldiers."

"Brother?!?" I exclaimed in shock. I nearly vomited in her lap. A sister?!? It wasn't impossible, but it was unlikely, and I felt sick. I still desired her, you see, and that's what made me sick. My own sister. How revolting and disgusting was that? I truly am a sick, sick man.

The shock played across my features. Aristocracy may have trained me well, but not that well. It almost seemed to amuse her, and I prayed silently that she couldn't sense the source of my shock. I hid my face by looking down into my lap, but that didn't help mattes much. "You must be mistaken; I have no sister."

Still, I looked up at her again, and tried to be objective. Here and there, there were resemblances. And she made me uncomfortable. Only family could really do that, with Father being the master of that skill. She rivaled him in that. "Still," I said uncomfortably, "there is more than a passing resemblance. Might I inquire as to what you're doing here, erm, in Amber?"

"My agenda at the moment?" she asked musically. "Obviously I want to spend some time with you... and perhaps with your help, to discover a way to retrieve our father if it's possible at all... Not to mention dealing suitable retribution on the Ass of Arden for this latest insult inflicted on you, dear brother".

Even as my stomach lurched at that (which admittedly could have been left over from my binge), it all served to sharpen my wit again. Only family...only someone who was well and truly insane would want Father back again, to go looking for him in that place. I saw the Abyss once, after I heard where and how he died. Just once was all it took for me to consign him there forever, content with that. And retribution on Julian...? The thought had never occurred to me. Why should it? He was a Prince, and there would be...could be...no retribution against him. That was just the way it was, the way I was raised. Of course, then I had been the aristocrat, but times change.

Thankfully, at that moment, we both heard at the door one of the damned guards say 'Prince Laurence'. Another visitor. It was turning out to be an odd morning alright. Another voice replied, "That's right. Let me in."

I turned to the lady, "This seems to be the night for visitors... I pray, sweet lady, that you have an expediant way out as you did in." I paused, wondering at some trickle of thought for the moment, then added, "If not, I suppose you could hide yourself away in the bath, or a closet, though I'd be loathe to hide..." I stammered , "...ah, such beauty in places such as those." I stood quickly, lifting her onto her feet as I did so, all thoughts of passion escaping me as I urged her onward. "Quickly now, before they find some other reason to mislike me." I gave her a small smile, trying not to frighten her with my own paranoia. Who could this Laurence be? And why visit me? I am a nobody here. Nothing.

"Here," she whispered back slipping a card into my hand. "Call me when you can." She sashayed towards the bathroom as I watched, wondering dumbly how she could be related, and the shame that was. It wasn't until she was out of sight before I tucked away the card in a pocket, and arranged myself for Laurence.

I was just in the nick of time too for no sooner had I seated myself than this tall blond, good-looking man walked into the room. He exuded arrogance, and I misliked him at once. This one had definitely been around family. I paused to consider the lady, and decided that she must have been too. Or something so close it made no difference. He gave me a greeting of, "Hello, cousin." It was a relief to know he wasn't yet another sibling. I had two enough already.

I frowned at him, and affectated an air of bored indifference. Two can play the game. I stood, and gave him a bow. He was a Prince after all, and so must be recognized by one of my aunts or uncles. "And who might I have the pleasure of meeting this good night, good sir?"

No one ever said I was impolite.

I crossed the room to my violin and picked it up, so I had something to do with my nervous hands. The man replied with his name, then pointed towards the bathroom door, "I hope no one is hiding from me in there."

"Look for yourself," I replied, sure that the lady had gone her own way by this time. I started to hunt for the bow of my violin. I found it within seconds, and prepared to draw it across the strings.

"I surely do," he shot back, shrugging. His next words stung me, and shocked me. "So...would you like to talk or something? Or would you prefer to f***?"

A god awful noise screeched out of my violin as I lost control and pushed too hard across them. I couldn't believe what he had just said and gaped at him. Slowly, I gathered myself together, and managed to talk, "I beg your pardon?" Some other thoughts rushed together, with bits of gossip heard around the castle about me, and some things clicked into place. In a tight voice, I added to my question, "Mayhap here's a reason why Julian would confine me to my bedchamber, and mayhap not. If that is your reason for coming here, sir, I am sorry to disappoint you. I am no one's whore." I gestured to the door with the bow, "Do me some small courtesy and take your leave of me now."

No one has ever said that I am not polite.

This man, this...thing...had the audacity to sit down. In my chair. "I guess that would be it as far as introduction goes," he said. I couldn't believe my ears or eyes. "No, that is not the reason why I came here. I wanted to talk, but I had an impression you started to behave not in the proper way..." I was furious; livid; pissed. I could feel one of my black rages tugging at the corners of my mind, urging me to tear his eyes out, and...well, ok, you'll get the point. Use your imagination. "Be polite and I will return the favor."

I almost killed him right there. And if looks could kill, I would have.

"Anyways, if you still want me to leave, I will do so immediately. If you want to talk like a man, well... there is no point in talking when one is not listening, is it?"

I centered myself, and counted to ten. Lather, rinse, and repeated as well. When I was sure of my voice, I replied calmly (at least on the outside), "But...I was polite to you." I think that infuriated me more than anything else, inferring that I was less than gracious with this intruder. I shook my head to clear it, "Your manner of introductions leaves much to be desired, sir. I'm sure Benedict is awaiting you somewhere, somewhen, unless you be an uncle instead of a cousin. Then, it doesn't matter much, does it?" I frowned at myself. This anger was not a part of me, and I shoved it away. It was...unlike me at all. "Leave or stay; it is of no consequence to me."

"Thank you," he said. "You seem not interested to encourage me to start a conversation, but assuming you felt offended, I will understand that. Still, it would help if you could concentrate for a moment. A little of your precious attention would be appreciated, cousin."

Yes, yes. Cousin. I had forgotten in my anger. Ignoring him, but not, I started to play some music. Something soft and soothing to me, a low melody. The sweet notes danced in the air, making this scene almost dramatic in its hilarity.

"I always wanted to meet you," he said. Hmph. Twice in one night. I preferred my other guest more. "So, here I have this chance. Maybe I could get an ally, maybe a friend, maybe not." Definitely not now; thank you very much. "You might reply that starting a conversation from my side by speaking about sex is perhaps not the most fortunate way. You might say that and you might be right. On the other hand, I could argue that ignoring me isn't the best way for a successful meeting as well."

I wasn't ignoring him, but it might have seemed so. Let the ignorant rude Prince think so. I played on, and recorded his words carefully in my mind to puzzle over later. If nothing else, just to pin down what sort of insanities he held within him, and which of my relatives spawned such a bore. A rude bore.

He put his hand together, continuing as I continued my silence. "Alright. I suggest to drop this topic as it brings us nowhere." He finally noticed. Congratulations for him. "Oh...by the way..." he said with an incredibly false nonchalant manner, "You haven't seen Random lately, have you?"

And that was it, pure and simple. What I was accused of by Julian. I should have thought of that from the start, but Random should have been able to take care of himself. He was missing. The King really was missing, and everyone thought I was to blame. Bother and rot.

I switched songs to a funeral dirge, and sneered slightly at him. I doubt he caught the expression. "If I had, I would assume that's why I'm confined to chambers. If I haven't...it's why I'm confined to chambers." I shrugged. That made no difference, but I really should have puzzled it out on my own. Damn hangovers. I played some more, and the idiot was still silent. After a moment, I stopped and said, "I see that you would prefer it straight, an answer, that is." If for no other reason that it was the only way this cretin would understand it. "In Amber, that's a mighty request, as you should well know, though I've not seen you here in recent years. I would assume, you being related and all that rot, that you know about the politics around here. It wouldn't surprise me if our gracious King has went underground, so to speak, and nor would I blame him. To answer straightly, however, no."

"Well, call me a concrete person. Yes, I like concrete questions and answers," the neanderthal replied. "Maybe my long stay in Shadow changed me that much." He smiled, his lips being as two fat worms twisting on his face. "Well, it was just a question."

I played a few more bars, improvising a bit. Dirges were always a favorite of mine. "Why," I asked over the soothing tones of the music, "hae you wanted to meet me? I am not important in any way here, except mayhap to the barkeeps."

"Sometimes the person himself may not be aware of the fact that he is important. Besides, I wanted to meet you. I never had this opportunity before and as you know it's been ages since I last stayed in Amber. I enjoy the conversation so far.... in a way," he grinned. I tsked to myself, marking this one up as an incompetent manipulator. Mayhaps I was too bitter and cynical. But I think not.

I finished my song, and he sighed, and pretended some sort of heartfelt reminiscence. I rolled my eyes inwardly, but still applauded his taste. I am, of course, the best violinist this side of Amber, or Chaos for that matter. How could he not appreciate my playing? I was gracing him with a slice of perfection, and he at least had the wits to recognize it in some way. Maybe not totally stupid after all.

I sighed, however, "But from where and from whom have you heard of me?"

Of course, he was not telling me. "I won't create further offense by fabricating. Suffice it to say that hte relative who mentioned you to me would not be pleased that I let anything slip.

"Perhaps there is something I can do about your current situation. I'm not eager to make an enemy of Julian. But, unless there is some mitigating circumstance I don't know about, his actions seem...hasty."

I diginified that with a loud snort and bent back to playing my music. At some point, I was roused to the sound of the door shutting, and Laurence had left me. Just as well. He was rather annoying, the cretin. And rude...did I mention that?

I set my violin and bow down, and seated myself where he had been sitting. I let images play over and through me, and got the sense that relatives were in danger somewhere, and the impression of a boat. Before I could delve further, or even contemplate the impressions, Julian walked in breaking what concentration I had.

"I don't suppose you'd care to enlighten me regarding the recent attacks on my siblings?" the Ass of Arden demanded. It was an apt name for him.

I heaved a heavy sigh, and forced myself to look at him. He really was upset, pissed even. "Out of how many sibling rivalries, you happen to pick upon the one person who is innocent as a lamb," I stated, frowning at my uncle. "I didn't even know anyone was being attacked." Well, at the moment, anyway.

Before he could answer that, I pushed a bit which was certainly not the wisest of courses, "Why don't you find Corwin and put your accusation to him? Or is it just easiest to use the handiest whipping boy in lieu of other uncles?" His dislike for Corwin I had heard about somewhere. Something about burning or a card game or something.

"Corwin has proven his loyalty to Amber. Brand and his line have shown themselves to be a good deal less trustworthy. You'll have to forgive me if I don't wait for any of us to die before taking all due precautions. The servants have been instructed to provide you with anything you require--" Except freedom. "--and if you are as innocent as you claim you will remain unharmed."

"In that case," I replied hotly, "You may want to talk to your nephew Laurence. It seems he thinks he can 'get me out of here' with a snap--" and I snapped my fingers, "--of his fingers." I paused for a heartbeat, adding petulantly, "Said you were being hasty too, not that I don't agree with him."

Polite? Well, I suppose in this case I could have went with a bit more, but under the rather trying circumstances, it was hard to maintain my temper. After all, I think that if Father would have won, Julian would be licking his boots. The thought amused me, and angered me too.

It did bring to mind something that Julian had said though. "What do you mean... 'and his line'? Certainly Rinaldo is trustworthy. Vialle seems to think so."

"Rinaldo," Julian said dispassionately, "are we talking about the same man who killed Caine and attempted the same upon several other members of the family? I only hope that miscreant dares enter Amber or Arden." He had a point there. "You say Laurence was here? I will in fact look into that. Before I go, do you have anything else to offer, oh innocent lamb?" If it were anyone else but Julian, I'd say he was mocking me.

"The innocent lamb bleats uselessly at the old goat," I said, mustering some indignity at the circumstances.

"When you are ready to bleat in a more useful fashion, tell one of the guards." And he left.

I slunk backwards into the chair thinking. There was something very troubling afoot here, and it would have to be something rather great for Julian to throw around his weight like that without a scrap of proof. Why no proof? Why was I certain? I really was innocent, and knew I could not have arranged anything, even if I were drunk at the time. Why that Ass could figure that out, I don't know, unless he wanted a handy scape goat nearby.

And the lady...and Laurence. And other cousins. What an interesting morning. Was she really my sister? And where was Random anyhow? Martin was absent as well (something most people probably hadn't noticed, but I had). I hadn't seen Vialle in a while, but I'm sure she was worried sick. Fiona must have been working on it, unless this was all of her own design. There was something...some sort of...well, danger, I suppose you'd say. And too many questions with not enough answers.

Well, I couldn't have really done anything if I had sat there the whole time, could I? Of course not. So, I decided to follow up one of the leads presented to me, and Trump the lady. That must have been what she handed to me, and I drew the Trump out and looked at it. Yes, it was of her alright, and just the sight of the card made my blood warm again.

Hmm. All thoughts of that sort of thing aside, why--if she was my sister--would she contact me now and not earlier? I had the impression that she knew all about me, and she had known that Julian imprisoned me here, though it must have happened just that night, and I didn't tell her. She was also a Trump artist, I was certain. Call it a feeling, but it felt true. She could have learned that from Father, who was an accomplished Trump artist I have been told. Tantalizing questions, and with only one way to get them. So, I wrote my relatives this note:





I took some time to bring myself together, and brushed my teeth, combed my hair, trimmed the beard and mustache, and whatnot, as well as pick out some clean clothes. A good suit, with longcoat. Suitable for traveling. Hmm. And the violin. Couldn't forget that.

I took out the card and concentrated. The contact was established shortly. "Well," I said seriously, "Shall we then?"

She extended a slender arm and grasped my hand, pulling me through the contact. Brr! I hate that. Easier ways to travel there are, and ones with no strings either. Well, not many. "Any preferences to breakfast?" she asked, studying me with a smile.

"Yes," I said, "Eating it in a Shadow far, far from Amber." And if it was a fast time one, we might actually be able to finish it before Julian found I was gone. It wouldn't be long, with servants sure to come by and see about feeding me within the half-hour. I should have waited, I suppose.

"Easily arranged," she replied. She released my hand, sliding hers from mine, and brought out her Trumps. She shuffled through them and selected two out of the pack. "I hope you don't mind take-out..." What was take-out? And where would we be taking it? She held out her hand again, and I slipped mine into it, holding the violin with the other. "Ready to go?"

I nodded absently, putting some trust in her. That was utterly unlike me, and perhaps all of my blood...er, relations. Still, you had to start trusting sometimes.

Chapter 8: Home Sweet Home

To make a rather long and dull story short, the lady Selene and I arrived at the place which I called home. Or formerly called home. It was a Shadow called Mordeth, and it held some unusual properties. I shan't go into details at the moment. Selene had some idea that we could contact father via Trump. I didn't think it was possible--after all, one can't Trump the dead.

I manuevered it so that we'd arrive in the stables. It was empty, devoid of any workers which is as I had hoped. I excused myself nervously, and headed into the small bathroom nearby. Small, and dirty, but adquate to my purposes. In short order, my senses were properly dulled for this experience. Must I go into detail, gentle reader? Alright, alright, I shot up. Happy? After all, I was extremely nervous and jittery, and was about to meet the devil of Amber (if this worked, which I was still certain it wouldn't). It brought up a lot of issues which I wasn't prepared to deal with, and I felt more in control when high. I was definitely more relaxed.

I returned to my lady with something akin to ease and grace. It was false, but she didn't know that.

"You're looking better," she sang out, patting a horse's nose. "Did you find everything to your liking?"

"Close enough," I replied favoring her with a smile. She really was quite lovely. The task at hand came to me again, and I sighed, sitting down. "Shall we get this over with, then? And maybe have some lunch too...I really should say hello to Mother while I'm here." I frowned. If we were successful, we most likely wouldn't be here long. "If we have time. Do you have Trumps of them both?"

"Of her, I only have a Dworkin-made Trump, but of father I have a specially made Trump," Selene said smoothly, "blood of his blood shifted into Trump form and empowered..." I blinked at those words and frowned as she showed the Trump to me. It was very smooth, and depicted father, surely enough. But...there was something wrong with it. Very wrong. I shook my head slightly as Selene went on, "If this doesn't work, then we can try again at the edge of the Abyss, and if needed again with more help..."

She took in a big breath to steady herself, then flashed those eyes at me again. I almost smiled and stepped forward but caught myself in time. Sister, remember? Ah, yes, sister. "Whenever you are ready, take hold of the Trump and we will both reach for him...together..."

Why did those words sound so final from her lips?

I shook my head again, "I'd rather try Dworkin's Trump first. If that works fro here, why access other powers?" I paused, considering that neither would work. It was a comforting thought. "Besides, if it works with Deirdre...first, then we can arrange to have her escorted back to Amber with none the wiser that Father will be up shortly. If they're both down there, and she spies him leaving, she'll tell other uncles and aunts first thing." Silently, I congratulated myself on this logic.

"I had been thinking that the medium would give our attempt an extra boost and then Father's power could help retrieve Deirdre... which could leave the Elder Amberites indebted to him..." she frowned slightly, then held up the other Trump. "But if you think we should try for her first, then that is what we'll do..."

"It would let my mind rest easier," I smiled, taking hold of Deirdre's Trump. We concentrated, and nothing happened. Just as I predicted. My smiled edged wider, and the thought 'one down' ran through my mind. Ah, relief. Then, I can return to Amber with a clear conscience. Mostly, anyhow.

"Shall we try Father's Trump now?" Selene asked, rubbing her temples. "The reception couldn't be any worse." I smiled at her, wondering how she could have a headache while I had such a nice buzz at the moment. With a heavy sigh, I nodded, and took the slick Trump in hand with her. One down, right? I frowned, and concentrated with my sister.

To my immediate shock, the card grew cold as we concentrated. By contrast, my fingers started sweating, and I almost lost grip with the damned thing. There wasn't any image, per se, however, but a feeling of darkness instead...of being lost in the dark, as I had been when I was a child. And suddenly, I relaxed. It was like...I was high, but much more so. It was intense, powerful. And then it ended.

Selene plucked the card from my nerveless fingers and started talking at me. It took a small bit before I could recognize what she was saying. "...for the tiniest of moments I almost felt as if there was another presence." She sat down quickly, and rubbed her temples. "Do you want to stay for a brief visit with your family or should we be moving on?"

"Bloody hell!" I exclaimed, starting violently at the whole business. I rubbed my hands on my slacks gazing at the card in her hand. He was alive. Alive. My father was alive, and she reduced this monumentous feat to a mere trace of a presence? I opened my mouth to say so, then shut it again. The buzz I had beforehand was gone, at least compared to what I had just experienced.

"We need someone else, I think," I said, frowning. Who could we get? "Something...." like another power source, but much too risky... "someplace..." but generally power types of places are uninhabitable, and we'd need a focus for the power anyway... "someone..." But who, dammit? There wasn't one person in Amber who didn't...but wait! Anelizabet. She didn't hate me. And, if I remembered correctly, they were in a tight situation the last I saw them. I blinked a few times. That might actually work. I smiled slowly, "I think I might know someone...yes, I think she'd help...hold on a moment..."

Now, bringing her here. I paced back and forth, oblivious to Selene. The Shadows weren't that far apart, not that distance mattered. Hmm. I did get a good look at it, though I wasn't there. Let's see...have a look first? Yes, yes. I saw them. By some trick of fate, they were still in dire straights. How convenient. For a moment, I recoiled at this act, this...reminder of how the royal family was. But, I can see now how things seem to snap into place for our ilk. It was too easy. As if it were all prearranged, somehow. Fate had finally turned a kind eye upon me. I watched for a few moments, then bored a hold through shadow as I stepped upon a crate, to avoid getting too wet.

Water crashed through the temporary gate I had made, depositing Anne and her friend into my stables. Dimly, I heard a small shriek as I cast my sight around for their green friend. I had to let it go, though. Doing such things is tiring, and nearly impossible to cover up. I snapped things back into place, and wavered on my feet, stumbling to the floor. At least, they were here.

Chapter 10: Dinner

I was calm again. The bell rang: it was time for dinner. With as much grace as I could muster, I went down the stairs rather slowly, as if in a dream. I was the first one there, I believe. Anne came in shortly after I, looking disgruntled. Kent entered after her and sat near Anne. "Any luck with Arcanus?"

"Ever want to cheerfully strangle your brother?" Yes, I thought as I folded my napkin on my lap. Many times. Over and over. I sometimes dreamed of it. "He's being a stubborn, self-absorbed punk. I get more help from my Shadow boys."

Ah. I must not have spoken then. I think that was good.

Selene entered next, her black hair piled up in a mass of artful curls. Somewhere, she had found new clothing, a low-cut dress of lace and froth. It was white, and very bright in contrast to my dark grey suit. I looked very dapper, I thought, combed and brushed and washed. The suit was one of my finest from here, with a tie and everything. After all, this was a dinner. Formal, I think. My shirt was forest green, and I remembered to put on the golden cufflinks I had gotten from Mother years and years ago.

"Sorry for earlier," I said as I came in. No...that's not right. "I've had a rather rough day." Over and over again. Did Selene come in already or not? Yes, there she was at my elbow. The right. "But then again, I also wasn't almost eaten by a sea serpant, or whatever that was that attacked your ship, Anne."

That was ages ago, how had I remembered? Was I seated? Yes, there was a napkin in my lap, though I didn't remember putting it there.

"At any rate," I plunged on. "I've a deal to make with you, and Kent. A favor to ask." We're going to call the devil, or God. I misremember.

Anne looked to be a great cat, stretching in the sun. The light was so bright behind her, and curled into the shape of a silver rose. Corwin's, yes, that's right, though I'd never met the man. "Ah, well, all in a day's work, y'know? Poor Mal-baby, all he wanted was a ride on my ship. Now he's hoverin' over near my momma."

"I wouldn't be entirely certain of that, Ana," Kent said, his blonde hair shimmering in Anne's light. No, it was red. Where had I gotten the idea that it was blonde? "Many of our kin have turned up just fine when thought lost. You survived far worse situations yourself, as I recall."

Yes. She had. The Titan for one...and he wasn't called that for his height.

"Did you mention a deal?" he asked of me.

I smiled, inclining my head. "Ah, yes. A simple matter really, especially in return for saving the both of you from the sea." I had done that. Opened a window in the sky, and saw both of them come tumbling down with the fish. It was a big fish, but it turned to mist once it hit the air. "It concerns a Trump." I paused, hearing bells ringing. Was dinner being called? "Lady Selene and I wish to Trump a person, but we haven't enough power between the two of us to get much more than the barest whisper of a contact. If the two of you will aid us, it would be greatly appreciated."

Hmm. Those words...I needed power? Power, I had. Power to unleash the fury of heaven and hell locked within me. Why would I need power? I think it was because I was so tired.

Servants flitted here and there. An entire cadre of them. Wine and lobster and cheesie-poofs they served in massive quantities. I stabbed the lobster with my knife, and heard the echoes of echoes as it screamed for mercy. It whispered at me, "Mr. Lamorak wants to see you. Shall you dine on him as well?"

"Ah yes," I said, nodding. Lamorak was quite tasty this year, I had heard. Or was that lamprey? "And set another place too, I'd suppose." For Mother. When she showed, though I swore I saw her ghost flitting from hall to hall as I had made my way down here.

"Nick, darling, is there a problem?" Selene asked from my right hand.

Yes, I wanted to say. I'm going crazy.

But I shook my head, lest they catch on that I wasn't all there anymore. Home had always done this to me, but I was calm and sedate, choosing words carefully. After all, I was used to this madness, and it wouldn't be much longer at home. "No," I said, then paused. "Well, maybe. Does anyone know a Mr. Lamorak? It's not the kind of name from about these parts, but well..." I let the sentence hang, watching the words drip into the soup. Alphabet soup. Hm. Tasty.

"The name is not immediately familiar to me," Selene said, "but I don't believe he could cause any difficulties that we could not handle...assuming that he is invited in..."

"Never heard the name," Anne said, eating with gusto as the food squirmed on her plate.

A tall, lean man entered, disguised by his very presence. He was real; I could tell that enough, and he looked pissed.

I smiled. "Ah, good eve, sir. Interesting...hmm. Clothes...for dinner, and all." I gestured to Mother's seat. "Please, feel free to join us." After all, my mother's dead and buried, and she won't be eating today. "And what does bring you to my mother's doorstep, hmm?"

The gent turned to me, "Prince, you have broken house arrest. This is a most serious thing. You could have been imprisoned in the depths but you were given the favour of remaining in Castle Amber quarters. I am charged by Prince Julian who has been named Protector and Keeper of Order for the Kingdom of Amber, in the absence of King Random, by the elders of the royal blood. You will return with me at once to Castle Amber or name yourself in opposition to Amber with the doom that shall bring upon you."

This sounded bad.

Selene turned her fury onto him, "Mr. Lamorak, I am responsible for Nick no longer being confined in his room for the 'crime' of being born the son of Prince Brand Barimen. And since King Random DID NOT leave Prince Julian to rule in his absence, intentional or not, I will therefore not leave my... my lover at the mercy of any arrogant fool with delusions of grandure." Her lover? How...embarassing. She certainly must have felt my desire from earlier. That's...well, we'll not go into that right now. Without sparing an instant she turned to me saying, "And dare you not deny the pleasure we share with each touch of our lips." Then, instantly returning her full attention to the newcomer, "So, Mr. Lamorak, either accept Nick's invitation to civilly join us for dinner or pray to whatever beings you believe in that you can make it out the door before 'I' get hold of you... I suggest that you choose to sit... please."

I sighed heavily. Pleasure. If only. "This is just what Mother predicted; I, getting arrested like a common criminal." I paused, shaking my head at the sight of Mother waggling her finger at me. "You can return to Prince Julian to please inform him that I'll return after my errands have been done to resume my incarceration."

Feeling brave, I added, "Other than that, if he wants me, he can damn well come and get me. Lazy bloke; sending others out to do his dirty work." The lobster applauded me as I set back to picking at it.

"Your actions are very foolish. King Random did appoint anyone because he simply disappeared. Someone had to take control and by consent of the elders it was Julian. Julian is therefore busy and to accuse him of being lazy is rude and stupid. You are not under arrest as a common criminal if you return immediately. Failure to return immediately means that you declare yourself outcast from Amber. As an outcast you cannot claim the protection of Amber. If assassins from Chaos saught your life then no aid would come to you and no retribution would be sought for your death. And I am Prince Lamorak." He was certainly windy, that's for sure.

"Hmphf," I muttered, "Everyone seems to be assuming that anyone there gave a damn in the first place--which they didn't." I nodded towards Selene, "It's as she said; my only crime is being the bastard son of a bastard. I'm not returning until my errands are done, and after this...episode...most likely not even then, as good old boy Julian would be apt to start burning off body parts of mine."

Selene made to take my hand then, but I jerked it back, thinking of earlier in my rooms of Amber. My cage.

The stranger stood there, speaking in a monotone, "If you return then you will not be harmed, once the situation is at least partly resolved and Random is located or all matters of crises are either at end or no longer presenting threat then you will be free to go wherever you choose. If you do not at this time return at this time then you permanently declare yourself outlaw from Amber. Why risk this permanent status when you are an immortal? Your confinement will not be in a prison cell and maybe only weeks or a year at most. A year is a very short period compared to to thousands spent with suspicion hanging over your head. Think long term and not short term and your interests will be served."

I really couldn't quite grasp everything that he was saying. It was too dull and boring. The lobster was much more interesting.

"You speak as if you believe all suspicion will simply disappear should King Random return," commented Selene. "And you also appear to operate under the delusion that Amber is the only place of significance in all of existance. But putting even that aside for the moment, the Ass of Arden, pardon me... Prince Julian, has in the not so distant past boasted of his joy of the hunt and his relatives, especially when the latter is the subjuct of the former, and you expect us to trust his word... He could have eleceted to solicit whatever assistance Nick could offer but instead had him confined as if he were the source of Amber's woes, and you expect us to trust his word...," the contempt in her voice dripping venom...

"Your judgement is clouded Selene," he rebutted, "First, you say that Prince Julian says what he has done, which is honesty is it not? Then, you decry him as not honest."

What? That made absolutely no sense.

"No, Lamorka," Selene said, "one such as he can be completely honest about his wanton cruelty and vicious nature and still be totally untrustworthy."

Neither did that, so I spoke up, "So, were you joining us for dinner or not?" I had quite forgotten if he had accepted the invitation.

"Jay-zus," Anne said, looking amused, "Y'all are gonna make us end up on the Jerry Springer show." She tried to stifle her musical notes of laughter, but they bubbled up out of her like a fountain.

Lamorak ignored me, suggesting, "Perhaps if they were to lie down for a years then they may recover their senses."

What? Can't you people talk properly?

He continued to say, "The issue is ar from over, Prince." Since when were bastards made Princes? "It is clear the stance you take, but you will find that outlaw from Amber is not a fate that you will enjoy." He turned on his heel and left.

"I suppose that's a nay, then," I said mournfully to the lobster, "Pity, too. The lobster is rather good."