Authors: Roger Zelazny
She smiled sweetly and retrieved her fork.
“I’ve always enjoyed that fairy-tale revelation which sees one rise in the world.”
“I also,” I said, and I resumed eating.
Mandor cleared his throat.
“It seems hardly fair,” he said, “to tell only part of a story.”
“You’re right,” I agreed.
Jasra returned her gaze to me and sighed.
“All right,” she said, “I’ll ask.
How did you know for cer-Oh.
Of course.
The Pattern.”
I nodded.
“Well, well, well.
Little Coral, Mistress of the Pattern.
This was a fairly recent occurrence?”
“Yes.”
“I suppose she is off somewhere in Shadow now-celebrating.”
“I wish I knew.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s gone, but I don’t know where.
And it’s the Pattern that did it to her.”
“How?”
“Good question.
I don’t know.”
Mandor cleared his throat.
“Merlin,” he said, “perhaps there are some matters” - he rotated his left hand - “that on reflection you may wish-“
“No,” I said.
“Ordinarily discretion would rule-perhaps even with you, my brother, as a Lord of Chaos.
And certainly in the case of Your Highness”-I nodded to Jasra-“save that you are acquainted and may even have a touch of affection for the lady.” I decided against laying it on too thick and quickly added, “Or at least no malice toward her.”
“As I said, I’m very fond of the girl,” Jasra stated, leaning forward.
“Good,” I replied, “for I feel at least partly responsible for what happened, even though I was duped in the matter.
So I feel obliged to try to set things right.
Only I don’t know how.”
“What happened?” she asked.
“I was entertaining her when she expressed a desire to see the Pattern.
So I obliged her.
On the way she asked me questions about it.
It seemed harmless conversation, and I satisfied her curiosity.
I was not familiar with the rumors concerning her parentage, or I would have suspected something.
As it was, when we got there, she set foot upon the Pattern and commenced walking it.”
Jasra sucked in her breath.
“It would destroy one not of the blood,” she said.
“Correct?”
I nodded.
“Or even one of us,” I said then, “if any of a number of mistakes be made.”
Jasra chuckled.
“Supposing her mother’d really been carrying on with a footman or the cook?” she remarked.
“She’s a wise daughter,” I said.
“At any rate, once one begins the Pattern, one may not turn back.
I was obliged to instruct her as she went along.
That, or be a very poor host and doubtless damage Begman-Amber relations.”
“And spoil all sorts of delicate negotiations?” she asked, half seriously.
I’d a feeling just then that she’d welcome a digression concerning the exact nature of the Begman visit, but I wasn’t biting.
“You might say that,” I said.
“At any rate, she completed the Pattern, and then it took her away.”
“My late husband told me that from its center one can command the Pattern to deliver one anywhere.”
“True,” I said, “but it was the nature of her command that was a bit unusual.
She told the Pattern to send her wherever it wanted.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I, but she did, and it did.”
“You mean she just said, ‘Send me wherever you want to send me,’ and she was instantly dispatched for points unknown?”
“You’ve got it.”
“That would seem to imply some sort of intelligence on the part of the Pattern.”
“Unless, of course, it was responding to an unconscious desire on her part to visit some particular locale.”
“True.
I suppose there is that possibility.
But have you no means of tracing her?”
“I’d a Trump I’d done of her.
When I tried it, I reached her.
She seemed pent in a dark place.
Then we lost touch, and that’s it.”
“How long ago was this?”
“A matter of hours by my subjective reckoning,” I said.
“Is this place on anything near Amber time?”
“Close enough, I believe.
Why didn’t you try again?”
“I’ve been somewhat occupied ever since Also, I’ve been casting about for some alternate way of approaching this.”
There came a clinking, rattling sound, and I smelled coffee.
“If you’re asking whether I’ll help you,” Jasra said, “the answer is yes.
Only I don’t really know how to go about it.
Perhaps if you were to try her Trump again with me backing you-we might reach her.”
“All right,” I said, lowering my cup and fumbling forth the cards.
“Let’s give it a try.”
“I will assist you also,” Mandor stated, rising to his feet and coming to stand to my right.
Jasra came over and stood to my left.
I held the Trump so that we all had a clear view.
“Let us begin,” I said, and I moved forward with my mind.
A patch of light I had taken to be a stray sunbeam drifted from its position on the floor to a spot beside my coffee cup.
It was ring-shaped, and I decided not to remark upon it since neither of the others seemed to take note of it.
I reached after Coral and found nothing.
I felt Jasra and Mandor reaching also, and I tried again, joining forces with them.
Harder.
Something? Something...I recalled wondering what Vialle felt when she used the Trumps.
It had to be something other than the visual cues with which the rest of us were familiar.
It might be something like this.
Something.
What I felt was a sense of Coral’s presence.
I regarded her form upon the card, but it would not come alive.
The card itself had grown perceptibly cooler, but it was not the same ice-edged chill I normally felt on achieving communication with one of the others.
I tried harder.
I felt Mandor and Jasra increasing their efforts also.
Then Coral’s image on the card faded, but nothing came to replace it.
I sensed her presence, however, as I regarded the void.
The feeling came closest to that of attempting to make contact with someone who was asleep.
“I cannot tell whether it’s simply a difficult place to reach,” Mandor began, “or-“
“I believe she is under a spell,” Jasra announced.
“That could account for a part of it,” Mandor said.
“But only part,” came a soft, familiar voice from near at hand.
“There are awesome powers holding her, Dad.
I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
“The Ghostwheel is right,” Mandor said.
“I’m beginning to feel it.”
“Yes,” Jasra began, “there is something....”
And suddenly the veil was pierced, and I beheld the slumped form of Coral, apparently unconscious, lying upon a dark surface in a very dark place, the only illumination coming from what seemed a circle of fire drawn about her.
She couldn’t have brought me through if she wanted to, and-
“Ghost, can you take me to her?” I asked.
Her image faded before he could reply, and I felt a cold draft.
It was several seconds before I realized that it seemed to be blowing upon me from the now-icy card.
“I don’t think so, I wouldn’t want to, and it may be that there is no need,” he answered.
“The force that holds her has become aware of your interest and even now is reaching toward you.
Is there some way you can turn off that Trump?”
I passed my hand across its face, which is usually sufficient.
Nothing happened.
The cold breeze even seemed to increase in intensity.
I repeated the gesture along with a mental order.
I began to feel whatever it was, focusing upon me.
Then the Sign of the Logrus fell upon the Trump, and the card was torn from my hand as I was cast backward, striking my shoulder against the edge of the door.
Mandor lurched to his right as this occurred, catching hold of the table to steady himself.
In my Logrus vision I had seen wild lines of light flash outward from the card before it fell away.
“Did that do the trick?” I called out.
“It broke the connection,” Ghost replied.
“Thanks, Mandor,” I said.
“But the power that was reaching for you through the Trump knows where you are now,” Ghost said.
“What makes you privy to its awareness?” I inquired.
“It is a surmise, based upon the fact that it’s still reaching for you.
It is coming the long way round-across space-though.
It could take as long as a quarter of a minute before it reaches you.”
“Your use of the pronoun is a little indefinite,” Jasra said.
“Is it just Merlin that it wants? Or is it coming for all of us?”
“Uncertain.
Merlin is the focus.
I’ve no idea what it will do to you.”
I lurched forward during this exchange and retrieved Coral’s Trump.
“Can you protect us?” she asked.
“I’ve already begun transferring Merlin to a distant place.
Shall I do this for you also?”
As I looked up from pocketing the Trump, I noted that the chamber had become something less than substantial-translucent, as if everything were made of colored glass.
“Please,” the cathedral-window form of Jasra said softly.
“Yes,” came my fading brother’s faint echo.
Then I was passed through a fiery hoop into a place of darkness.
I stumbled against a stone wall, felt my way along it.
A quarter turn, a lighter area before me dotted with bright points...
“Ghost?” I asked.
No answer.
“I don’t appreciate these interrupted conversations,” I continued.
I moved forward until I came to what was obviously a cave mouth.
A clear night sky hung before me, and when I stepped outside a cold wind rubbed up against me.
I retreated several paces, shivering.
I had no idea where I might be.
Not that it really mattered if it brought me a breathing spell.
I reached through the Logrus Sign for a great distance before I located a heavy blanket.
Wrapping it about myself, I sank to a seated position upon the cave’s floor.
Then I reached again.
It was easier to find a stack of wood and no trick at all to ignite a portion of it.
I’d also been looking forward to one more cup of coffee.
I wondered.
.
.
Why not? I reached again, and the bright circle rolled into view before me.
“Dad! Please stop!” came the offended voice.
“I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to tuck you away in this obscure corner of Shadow.
Too many sendings, though, and you’ll call attention to yourself.”
“Come on!” I said.
“All I want is a cup of coffee.”
“I’ll get one for you.
Just don’t use your own powers for a while.”
“Why won’t your action draw just as much attention?”
“I’m using a roundabout route.
There!”
A steaming mug of some dark stoneware stood on the floor of the cave near my right hand.
“Thanks,” I said, taking it up and sniffing it.
“What did you do with Jasra and Mandor?”
“I sent each of you off in a different direction amidst a horde of fake images flitting hither and yon.
All you have to do now is lie low for a while.
Let its attention subside.”
“Whose attention? What’s attention?”
“The power that has Coral.
We don’t want it to find us.”
“Why not? I seem to recall your wondering earlier whether you were a god.
What’s for you to fear?”
“The real thing.
It seems to be stronger than I am.
On the other hand, I seem to be faster.”