«Our mother walked the Pattern.»
«Yes, that's true.»
«Frankly, I think anyone of proper consanguinity in the Courts could walk the Pattern - and vice versa for my relatives in Amber with the Logrus. Tradition has it we're all related from back somewhere in the dim and misty.»
«Okay I'll go in with you. There's room to move around inside without touching the thing, isn't there?»
«Yes.» I drew the door the rest of the way open, braced my shoulder against it, and stared. This was it. I saw that our glowing trail ended a few inches beyond the threshold.
I drew a deep breath and muttered some expletive as I let it go.
«What is it?» Jurt asked, trying to see past me.
«Not what I expected,» I told him.
I moved aside and let him have a look.
He stared for several seconds, then said, «I don't understand.»
«I am not certain that I do either,» I said, «but I intend to find out.»
I entered the chamber, and he followed me. This was not the Pattern that I knew. Or rather, it was and wasn't. It conformed to the same general configuration as the Pattern in Amber, only it was broken. There were several places where the lines had been erased, destroyed, removed in some fashion - or perhaps never properly executed in the first place. The ordinarily dark interline areas were bright, bluewhite, the lines themselves black. It was as if some essence had drained from the diagram to permeate the field. The lighted area seemd to ripple slowly as I viewed it.
And beyond all of this was the big difference: The Pattern in Amber did not contain a circle of fire at its center, a woman dead, unconscious, or under a spell within it.
And the woman, of course, had to be Coral. I knew that immediately, though I had to wait for more than a minute before I got a glimpse of her face beyond the flames.
The big door shut itself behind us while I stood staring. Jurt stood unmoving for a long time also before he said, «That Jewel is certainly busy at something. You should see your face in its light right now.»
I glanced downward and observed its ruddy pulsations. Between the blue-white flux in which the Pattern was grounded and the flickering of that circle of flame had not noted the sudden activity on the part of the stone.
I moved a step nearer, feeling a wave of coldness similar to that of an activated Trump. This had to be one of the Broken Patterns of which Jasra had been speaking - representative of one of the Ways in which she and Julia were initiates. This placed me in one of the early shadows, near Amber herself. Thoughts began to race through my mind at a ferocious pace.
I had only recently become aware of the possibility that the Pattern might actually be sentient. Its corollary, that the Logrus was sentient, seemed likely also. The notion of its sentiency had been presented to me when Coral had succeeded in negotiating the Pattern and then had asked it to send her where she should go. It had done so, and this was the place to which she had been transported, and her condition was obviously the reason I couldn't reach her by means of her Trump. When I had addressed the Pattern following her disappearance, it had - almost playfully, it seemed at the time - shifted me from one end of its chamber to the other, apparently to satisfy me on the matter of its sentience.
And it wasn't merely sentient, I decided, as I raised the jewel of Judgment and stared into its depths. It was clever. For the images that I saw within the stone, showing me what it was that was desired of me, represented something I would not have been willing to do under other circumstances. Having come away from that strange realm through which I had been led on this quest, I would have shuffled out a Trramp and called someone for a fast exit - or even summoned the image of the Logrus and let the two of them slug it out while I slipped away through Shadow. But Coral slept in a circle of flame at the heart of the Broken Pattern… She was the authentic Pattern's hold over me. It had to have understood something back when she was walking it, laid its plan, and set me up at that time.
It wanted me to repair this particular image of itself, to mend this Broken Pattern, by walking it, bearing the Jewel of Judgment with me. This was how Oberon had repaired the damage to the original. Of course, the act had been sufficiently traumatic to kill him…
On the other hand, the King had been dealing with the real thing, and this was only one of its images. Also, my father had survived the creation of his own ersatz Pattern from scratch.
Why me? I wondered then. Was it because I was the' son of the man who had succeeded in creating another Pattern? Did it involve the fact that I bore the image of the Logrus within me as well as that of the Pattern? Was it simply because I was handy and coercible? All of the above? None of them?
«How about it?» I called out. «Have you got an answer for me?»
There was a quick pang in my stomach and a wave of dizziness as the chamber spun, faded, stood still, and I regarded Jurt across the expanse of the Pattern, the big door at his back.
«How'd you do that?» he hollered.
«I didn't,» I replied.
«Oh.»
He edged his way to his right till he came to the wall. Maintaining contact with it, he began moving about the Pattern's periphery, as if afraid to approach any nearer to it than he had to or to remove his gaze from it.
From this side I could see Coral a bit more clearly, within the fiery hedge. Funny It was not as if there were a large emotional investment here. We were not lovers, not even terrifically close friends. We had become acquainted only the other day, shared a long walk about, around, and under the town and palace, had a meal together, a couple of drinks, a few laughs. If we became better acquainted, perhaps we would discover that we couldn't stand each other. Still, I had enjoyed her company, and I realized that I did want to take the time to get to know her better. And in some ways I felt responsible for her present condition, through a kind of contributory negligence. In other words, the Pattern had me by the balls. If I wanted to free her, I had to repair it.
The flames nodded in my direction.
«It's a dirty trick,» I said aloud.
The flames nodded again.
I continued to study the Broken Pattern. Almost everything I knew about the phenomenon had come to me by way of my conversation with Jasra. But I recalled her telling me that initiates of the Broken Pattern walked it in the areas between the lines, whereas the image in the Jewel was instructing me to walk the lines, as one normally would the Pattern itself. Which made sense, as I recalled my father's story. It should serve to inscribe the proper path across the breaks. I wasn't looking for any half-assed between-the-lines initiation.
Jurt made his way about the far end of the Pattern, turned, and began to move toward me. When he came abreast of a break in the outer line, the light flowed from it across the floor. The look on his face was ghastly as it touched his foot. He screamed and began to melt.
«Stop!» I cried. «Or you can find another Pattern repairman! Restore him and leave him alone or I won't do it! I mean it!»
Jurt's collapsing legs lengthened again. The rush of blue-white incandescence which had fled upward through his body was withdrawn as the light retreated from him. The expression of pain left his face.
«I know he's a Logrus-ghost,» I said, «and he's patterned on my least favorite relative, but you leave him alone, you son of a bitch, or I won't walk you! You can keep Coral and you can stay broken!»
The light flowed back through the imperfection, and things stood as they had moments before.
«I want a promise,» I said.
A gigantic sheet of flame rose from the Broken Pattern to the top of the chamber, then fell again.
«I take it that is an affirmative,» I said.
The flames nodded.
«Thanks,» I heard Jurt whisper.
Chapter 8
