Then we're stuck here till something happens or you get inspired again?
Right.
Wake me when it's over, I said, and I closed my eyes.
The wrist twitch that followed was almost painful.
Hey! You can't do that! Frakir said. The whole idea is that you sit up all night and watch.
And a very half assed idea it is, I said. I refuse to play such a stupid game. If anything wants the stuff,I'll give it a good price on it.
Go ahead and sleep if you want. But what if something comes along and decides you had better be taken out of the picture first?
To begin with, I replied, I don't believe that anything could care about that pile of medieval junk, let alone lust after it - and in closing, it's your job to warn me of danger.
Aye, aye, Captain. But this is a weird place. What if it limits my sensitivity some way?
You're really reaching now, I said. I guess you'll just have to improvise.
I dozed. I dreamed that I stood within a magic circle and various things tried to get at me. When they touched the barrier, though, they were transformed into stick figures, cartoon characters which rapidly faded. Except for Corwin of Amber, who smiled faintly and shook his head.
«Sooner or later you'll have to step outside,» he said.
«Then let it be later,» I replied.
«And all your problems will still be there, right where you left them.»
I nodded.
«But I'll be rested,» I answered.
«Then it's a trade-off. Good luck.»
«Thanks.»
The dream fell apart into random images then. I seem to remember standing outside the circle a little later, trying to figure a way to get back in…
I wasn't certain what woke me. It couldn't have been a noise. But suddenly I was alert and rising, and the first thing I beheld was a dwarf with a mottled complexion, his hands clasped at his throat, lying unmoving in a twisted position near the armor pile.
«What's going on?» I tried saying. But there was no reply.
I crossed and knelt beside the short big-shouldered guy. With my fingertips, I felt after a carotid pulse but couldn' t locate one. At that moment, however, I felt a tickling sensation about my wrist, and Frakir - phasing into and out of visibility - made her way back into touch with with me.
You took that guy out? I asked.
There came a soft pulsation then. Suicides don't strangle themselves, she replied.
Why didn't you alert me?
You needed your rest, and it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. Our empathy is too strong, though. Sorry I woke you.
I stretched.
How long was I asleep?
Several hours, I'd judge.
I feel kind of sorry about this, I said. That scrap heap isn't worth somebody's life,
It is now, Frakir answered.
True. Now that someone's died for the stuff have you gotten the word as to what we do next?
Things are a little clearer, but not enough to act on. We must remain until morning for me to be certain.
Does the information you have include anything on whether there's food or drink available in the neighborhood?
Yes. There's supposed to be a jug of water behind the altar. Also a loaf of bread. But that's for morning. You're supposed to be fasting throughout the night.
That'f only if I take this whole business seriously, I said, turning toward the altar.
I took two steps, and the world started to come apart. The floor of the chapel trembled, and I heard my first sounds since my arrival; a deep growling, grating noise came from somewhere far beneath me. A horde of colors flashed through the air of this colorless place, half blinding me with their intensity Then the colors fled, and the room divided itself. The whiteness grew intense in the vicinity of the archway by which I had entered. I had to raise my hand to shield my eyes against it. Across from this, a profound darkness occurred, masking the three doorways in that wall.
What…, is it? I asked.
Something terrible, Frakir replied, beyond my ability to access.
I clasped the hilt of the blade I wore and reviewed the spells I still had hanging. Before I could do any more than that, an awful sense of presence pervaded the place. So potent did it seem that I did not feel that drawing my blade or reciting a spell was the most politic action I might take.
Ordinarily I'd have summoned the Sign of the Logrus by then, but that way was barred to me also. I tried clearing my throat, but no sound came forth. Then there came a movement at the heart of the light, a coalescing…
The shape of a Unicorn, like Blake's Tyger, burning bright, took form, so painful to behold that I had to look away
I shifted my gaze to the deep, cool blackness, but there was no rest for my eyes in that place either. Something stirred within the darkness, and there came another sound - a grating, as of metal being scraped on stone. This was followed by a powerful hissing. The ground trembled again. Curved lines flowed forward. Even before the brightness of the Unicorn etched its lineaments within that mighty gloom, I realized it was the head of a one-eyed serpent which had come partway into the chapel. I shifted my gaze to a point between them, catching each within my peripheral vision. Far better than any attempt to behold either directly I felt their gazes upon me, the Unicorn of Order and the Serpent of Chaos. It was not a pleasant feeling, and I retreated until the altar was at my back.
Both came slightly farther into the chapel. The Unicorn's head was lowered, horn pointed directly at me. The Serpent's tongue darted in my direction.
«Uh, if either of you want this armor and stuff,» I ventured, «I certainly have no object-'
The Serpent hissed and the Unicorn raised a hoof and let it fall, cracking the floor of the chapel, the fracture line racing toward me like a streak of black lightning and halting just at my feet.
«On the other hand,» I observed, «no insult is intended by the offer, Your Eminences-»
Wrong thing to say - again, Frakir interjected, weakly.
Tell me what's right, I said, trying for a mental sotto voce.
I don't- Oh!
The Unicorn reared; the Serpent drew itself upward. I dropped to my knees and looked away, their gazes having somehow become physically painful. I was trembling, and all of my muscles had begun to ache.
It is suggested, Frakir recited, that you play the game the way it is set up.
What metal entered my backbone I know not. But I raised my head and turned it, looking first to the Serpent, then to the Unicorn. Though my eyes watered and ached as if I were trying to stare down the sun, I managed the gesture.
«You can make me play,» I said, «but you cannot make me choose. My will is my own. I will guard this armor all night, as is required of me. In the morning I will go on without it because I do not choose to wear it.»
Without it you may die, Frakir stated, as if translating.
I shrugged.
«If it is my choice to make, I choose not to place one of you before the other.»
A rush of wind blew hot and cold past me, seemed a cosmic sigh.
You will choose, Frakir relayed, whether you become aware of it or not. Everyone does. You are simply being asked to formalize your choice.
«What's so special about my case?» I asked.
