'He's Master of the Logrus. He's an uncle of mine, too. He felt that the Pattern of Amber and the Logrus of Chaos were incompatible, that I could not bear the images of both within me. Random, Fiona, and Gerard had taken me down to show me the Pattern. I got in touch with Suhuy then and gave him a look at it. He said that they seemed antithetical, and that I would either be destroyed by the attempt or the Pattern would drive the image of the Logrus from me, probably the former. But Fiona said that the Pattern should be able to encompass anything, even the Logrus, and from what she understood of the Logrus it should be able to work its way around anything, even the Pattern. So they left it up to me, and I knew that I had to walk it. So I did. I made it, and I still bear the Logrus as well as the Pattern. Suhuy acknowledged that Fi had been right, and he speculated that it had to do with my mixed parentage. She disagreed, though-'
Bill raised his hand. 'Wait a minute. I don't understand how you got your uncle Suhuy down into the basement of Amber Castle on a moment's notice.'
'Oh, I have a set of Chaos Trumps as well as a set of Amber Trumps, for my relatives back in the Courts.'
He shook his head. 'All of this is fascinating, but we're straying from the point. Is there anyone else who can walk in Shadow? Or are there other ways of doing it?'
'Yes, there are different ways it could be done. There are a number of magical beings, like the Unicorn, who can just wander wherever they want. And you can follow a Shadow walker or a magical being through Shadow for so long as you can keep track of it, no matter who you are. Kind of like Thomas Rhymer is the ballad. And one Shadow walker could lead an army through. And then there are the inhabitants of the various Shadow kingdoms nearest to Amber and to Chaos. Those at both ends breed mighty sorcerers, just because of their proximity to the two power centers. Some of the good ones can become fairly adept at it-but their images of the Pattern or the Logrus are imperfect, so they're never quite as good as the real thing. But on either end they don't even need an initiation to wander on in. The Shadow interfaces are thinnest there. We even have commerce with them, actually. And established routes become easier and easier to follow with time. Going outward is harder, though. But large attacking forces have been known to come through. That's why we maintain patrols. Julian in Arden, Gerard at sea, and so forth.'
'Any other ways?'
'A Shadow-storm perhaps.'
'What's that?'
'It's a natural but not too well-understood phenomenon. The best comparison I can think of is a tropical storm. One theory as to their origin has to do with the beat frequencies of waves that pulse outward from Amber and from the Courts, shaping the nature of shadows. Whatever, when such a storm rises it can flow through a large number of shadows before it plays itself out. Sometimes they do a lot of damage, sometimes very little. But they often transport things in their progress.'
'Does that include people?'
'It's been known to happen.'
He finished his fixer. I did the same with mine.
'What about the Trumps?' he asked. 'Could anybody learn to use them?'
'Yes.'
'How many sets are there kicking around?'
'I don't know.'
'Who makes them?'
'There are a number of experts in the Courts. That's where I learned. And there are Fiona and Bleys back in Amber - and I believe they were teaching Random'
'Those sorcerers you spoke of - from the adjacent kingdoms . . . Could any of them do up a set of Trumps?'
'Yes, but theirs would be less than perfect. It is my understanding that you have to be an initiate of either the Pattern or the Logrus to do them properly. Some of them could do a sort of half assed set, though, one you'd be taking your chances on using-maybe winding up dead or in some limbo, sometimes getting where you were headed.'
'And the set you found at Julia's place . . . ?'
'They're the real thing.'
'How do you account for them?'
'Someone who knew how to do it taught someone else who was able to learn it, and I never heard about it. That's all.'
'I see.'
'I'm afraid none of this is too productive.'
'But I need it all to think with,' he replied. 'How else can I come up with lines of inquiry? You ready for another beer?'
'Wait.' I closed my eyes and visualized an image of the Logrus shifting, ever shifting. I framed my desire and two of the swimming lines within the eidolon increased in brightness and thickness. I moved my arms, slowly, imitating their undulations, their jerkings. Finally, the lines and my arms seemed to be one, and I opened my hands and extended the lines outward, outward through Shadow.
Bill cleared his throat.
'Uh-what are you doing, Merle?'
'Looking for something,' I replied. 'Just a minute.' The lines would keep extending through an infinitude of Shadow till they encountered the objects of my desire-or until I ran out of patience or concentration. Finally, I felt the jerks, like bites on a pair of fishing lines.
'There they are,' I said, and I reeled them in quickly. An icy bottle of beer appeared in each of my hands. I grasped them as they did and passed one to Bill.
'That's what I meant by the reverse of a Shadow walk,' I said, breathing deeply a few times. 'I sent out to Shadow for a couple of beers. Saved you a trip to the kitchen.'
He regarded the orange label with the peculiar green script on it.
'I don't recognize the brand,' he said, 'let alone the language. You sure it's safe?'
'Yes, I ordered real beer.'
'Uh-you didn't happen to pick up an opener, too; did you?'
'Oops!' I said. 'Sorry. I'll-'
'That's all right.'
He got up, walked out to the kitchen, and came back a little later with an opener. When he opened the first one it foamed a bit and he had to hold it over the wastebasket till it settled. The same with the other.
'Things can get a bit agitated when you pull them in fast the way I did,' I explained. 'I don't usually get my beer that way and I forgot-'
'That's okay,' Bill said, wiping his hands on his handkerchief . . .
He tasted his beer then.
'At least it's good beer;' he observed. 'I wonder . . . Naw.'
'What?'
'Could you send out for a pizza?'
'What do you want on it?' I asked.
The next morning we took a long walk beside a wandering creek, which we met at the back of some farmland owned by a neighbor and client of his. We strolled slowly, Bill with a stick in his hand and a pipe in his mouth, and he continued the previous evening's questioning.
'Something you said didn't really register properly at the time,' he stated, 'because I was more interested in other aspects of the situation. You say that you and Luke actually made it up to the finals for the Olympics and then dropped out?'
'Yes.'
'What area?'
'Several different track and field events. We were both runners and-'
'And his time was close to yours?'
'Damn close. And sometimes it was mine that was close to his.'
