contact came almost immediately. He was seated on a balcony beneath a crazily stippled sky, the Shifting Mountains sliding to his left. His feet were propped on a small floating table and he was reading a book. He lowered it and smiled faintly.
«Merlin,» he said softly. «You look tired.»
I nodded.
«You look rested,» I said.
«True,» he answered, as he closed the book and set it on the table. Then, «There is trouble?» he asked.
«There is trouble, Mandor.»
He rose to his feet.
«You wish to come through?»
I shook my head. «If you have any Trumps handy for getting back, I'd rather you came to me.»
He extended his hand.
«All right,» he said.
I reached forward, our hands clasped; he took a single step and stood beside me on the bridge. We embraced for a moment and then he turned and looked out and down into the rift.
«There is some danger here?» he asked.
«No. I chose this place because it seems very safe.»
«Scenic, too,» he replied. «What's been happening to you?»
«For years I was merely a student, and then a designer of certain sorts of specialized machinery,» I told him. «Things were pretty uneventful until fairly recently. Then all hell broke loose - but most of it I understand, and much of it seems under control. That part's complicated and not really worth your concern.»
He rested a hand on the bridge's side-piece: «And the other part?» he asked.
«My enemies up until this point had been from the environs of Amber. But suddenly, when it seemed that most of that business was on its way to being settled, someone put a Fire Angel on my trail. I succeeded in destroying it just a little while ago. I've no idea why, and it's certainly not an Amber trick.»
He made a clicking noise with his lips as he turned away, paced a few steps, and turned back.
«You're right, of course,» he said. «I'd no idea it had come anywhere near this, or I'd have spoken with you some time ago. But let me differ with you as to orders of importance before I indulge in certain speculations on your behalf. I want to hear your entire story.»
«Why?»
«Because you are sometimes appallingly naive, little brother, and I do not yet trust your judgment as to what is truly important.»
«I may starve to death before I finish,» I answered. Smiling crookedly, my step-brother Mandor raised his arms. While Jurt and Despil are my half brothers, borne by my mother, Dara, to Prince Sawall the Rim Lord, Mandor was Sawall's son by an earlier marriage. Mandor is considerably older than I, and as a result he reminds me much of my relatives back in Amber. I'd always felt a bit of an outsider among the children of Dara and Sawall. In that Mandor was - in a more stable sense - not part of that particular grouping either, we'd had something in common. But whatever the impulse behind his early attentions, we'd hit it off and become closer, I sometimes think, than full blood brothers. He had taught me a lot of practical things over the years, and we had had many good times together.
The air was distorted between us, and when Mandor lowered his arms a dinner table covered with embroidered white linen came into sudden view between us, soundlessly, followed a moment later by a pair of facing chairs. The table bore numerous covered dishes, fine china, crystal, silverware; there was even a gleaming ice bucket with a dark twisted bottle within it.
«I am impressed,» I stated.
«I've devoted considerable time to gourmet magic in recent years,» he said. «Pray, be seated.»
We made ourselves comfortable there on the bridge between two darknesses. I muttered appreciatively as I tasted, and it was some minutes before I could begin a summary of the events that had brought me to this place of starlight and silence.
Mandor listened to my entire tale without interruption, and when I'd finished he nodded and said, «Would you care for another serving of dessert?»
«Yes,» I agreed. «It's quite nice.»
When I glanced up a few moments later, I saw that he was smiling.
«What's funny?» I asked.
«You,» he replied. «If you recall, I told you before you left for that place to be discriminating when it came to giving your trust.»
«Well? I told no one my story. If you're going to lecture me on being friendly with Luke without learning his, I've already heard it.»
«And what of Julia?»
«What do you mean? She never learned…»
«Exactly. And she seems like one you could have trusted. Instead, you turned her against you.»
«All right! Maybe I used bad judgment there, too.»
«You designed a remarkable machine, and it never occurred to you it might also become a potent weapon. Random saw that right away. So did Luke. You might have been saved from disaster on that front only by the fact that it became sentient and didn't care to be dictated to.
«You're right. I was more concerned with solving technical problems. I didn't think through all the consequences.
He sighed.
«What am I going to do with you, Merlin? You take risks when you don't even know you're taking risks.»
«I didn't trust Vinta,» I volunteered.
«I think you could have gotten more information out of her,» he said; «if you hadn't been so quick to save Luke, who already appeared to be out of danger. She seemed to be loosening up considerably at the end of your dialogue.»
«Perhaps I should have called you.»
«If you encounter her again, do it, and I'll deal with her.»
I stared. He seemed to mean it.
«You know what she is?»
«I'll unriddle her,» he said, swirling the bright orange beverage in his glass. «But I've a proposal for you, elegant in its simplicity. I've a new country place, quite' secluded, with all the amenities. Why not return to the Courts with me rather than bouncing around from hazard to hazard? Lie low for a couple of years, enjoy the good life, catch up on your reading. I'll see that you're well protected. Let everything blow over, then go about your business in a more peaceful climate.»
I took a small sip of the fiery drink.
«No,» I said. «What happened to those things you indicated earlier that you knew and I didn't?»
«Hardly important, if you accept my offer.»
«Even if I were to accept, I'd want to know.»
«Bag of worms,» he said.
«You listened to my story. I'll listen to yours.»
He shrugged and leaned back in his chair, looked up at stars.
«Swayvill is dying,» he said.
«He's been doing that for years.»
«True, but he's gotten much worse. Some think it has, to do with the death curse of Eric of Amber. Whatever; I really believe he hasn't much longer.»
«I begin to see…»
«Yes, the struggle for the succession has become more intense. People have been falling over left and right poison, duels, assassinations, peculiar accidents, dubious suicides. A great number have also departed for points unknown. Or so it would seem.»
