Why would the Pattern be creating simulacra to bug me?
I'm just a humble killing aid. Reasoning is not one of my strong points yet.
If the Unicorn and the Serpent are involved, I suppose the Pattern might be also.
We know that the Logrus is.
And it seemed to me that the Pattern demonstrated sentience the day Coral walked it. Say that's true and add on the ability to manufacture constructs - Is this the place it wanted them to bring me? Or did Corwin transport me someplace else? And what does the Pattern want of me? And what does my father want of me?
I envy your ability to shrug, Frakir answered. Those are what I take it you call rhetorical questions?
I guess so.
Information of another sort is beginning to come to me, so I assume the night is ending.
I sprang to my feet.
Does that mean I can eat-and drink? I asked.
I believe so.
I moved quickly then.
While I am new to these things, I cannot help wondering whether it might be considered disrespectful to vault over an altar that way, Frakir commented.
The black flames flickered as I passed between them.
Hell,I don't even know what it's an altar to, I answered, and I've always thought of disrespect as something that had to be identity-specific.
The ground trembled slightly as I seized the jug and took a deep swallow.
Then, again, perhaps you have a point there, I said, choking.
I carried the jug and the loaf around the altar, past the stiffening dwarf and over to the bench which ran along the back wall. Seating myself, I commenced eating and drinking more slowly.
What comes next? I asked. You said that the information was flowing again.
You have kept vigil successfully, she said. Now you must select what you need from among the armor and weapons you watched, then pass through one of the three doorways in this wall.
Which one?
One is the door of Chaos, one the door of Order, and I know not the nature of the third.
Uh, how does one make an informed decision in these matters?
I think your way may be barred by all but the one you're supposed to pass.
Then one does not really have a choice, does one?
I believe that the matter of the doorways may be predicated upon the choice one makes in the hardware department.
I finished the bread, washed it down with the rest of the water. I got to my feet then.
Well, I said, let's see what they'll do if I don't make a choice. Too bad about the dwarf.
He knew what he was doing, what chances he was taking.
That's more than I can say.
I approached the right-hand door since it was the nearest. It let into a bright corridor which grew brighter and brighter as it receded until sight of it was lost to me beyond a few paces' distance. I kept walking. Damn near broke my nose, too. It was as if I'd encountered a wall of glass. It figures. I couldn' t picture myself walking off into the light that way.
You're actually getting more cynical as I watch, Frakir observed. I caught that thought.
Good.
I approached the middle one more carefully. It wore gray and seemed to let into a long corridor also. I could see down it perhaps a little farther than the first, though no features other than walls, roof, and floor presented themselves. I extended my arm and discovered that my way was not barred.
Seems to be the one, Frakir observed.
Maybe.
I moved over to the left-hand doorway, its passage black as the inside of God's pocket. Again there was no resistance when I explored for hidden barriers.
Hm. It appears I do have a choice.
Odd. I haven't any instructions to cover this.
I returned to the middle one, took a step forward. Hearing a sound behind me, I turned. The dwarf had sat up. He was holding his sides and laughing. I tried to turn back then, but now something barred my return. Suddenly then the scene dwindled, as if I were accelerating to the rear.
I thought the little guy was dead, I said.
So did I. He gave every indication.
I turned away, back to the direction I'd been headed. There was no feeling of acceleration. Perhaps it was the chapel that was receding while I stood still.
I took a step forward, then another. Not a sound from my footfalls. I began walking. After a few paces I put out my hand to touch the left-hand wall. It encountered nothing. I tried again with the right. Again nothing. I took a step to the right and reached again. Nope. I still seemed approximately equidistant from two shadowy walls. Growling, I ignored them and strode forward.
What's the matter, Merle?
Do you or do you not sense walls to the right and left of us? I asked.
Nope, Frakir replied.
Any idea at all where we are?
We are walking between shadows.
Where are we headed?
Don't know yet. We're following the Way of Cbaos, though.
What? How do you know that? I thought we had to pick something Chaosian for the pile to be admitted here.
At this I gave myself a quick search. I found the dagger tucked into my right boot sheath. Even in the dim light I could recognize the workmanship as something from back home.
We were set up somehow, I said. Now I know why the dwarf wat laughing. He planted this on me while we were passed out.
But you still had a choice - between this and the dark corridor.
True.
So why'd you pick this one?
The light was better.
Chapter 5
A half dozen steps later even the impression of walls had vanished. Ditto the roof, for that matter. Looking back, I saw no sign of the corridor or its entrance. There was only a vast dismal area. Fortunately the floor or ground remained firm underfoot. The only manner in which I could distinguish the way I traveled from the surrounding gloom had to do with visibility. I walked a pearl-gray trail through a valley of shadow, though, technically, I supposed, I walked between shadows. Picky-picky. Someone or something had grudgingly spilled a minimum of light to mark my way.
I trudged through the eerie silence, wondering how many shadows I passed among, then wondering whether that was too linear a way of considering the phenomenon. Probably.
At that moment, before I could invoke mathematics, I thought I saw something move off to my right. I halted. A tall ebon pillar had come into view, barely, at the edge of vision. But it was not moving. I concluded that it was my own movement which had given it appearance of motion. Thick, still, smooth - I ran my gaze up that dark shaft until I lost sight of it. There seemed no way of telling how high the thing stood.
I turned away I took a few more paces. I noted another pillar then - ahead of me, to the left. I gave this one
