«I've lived a long time in a musseum. Why hide your picture up a ssecret way?»
I moved forward, my gaze on the painting.
«It's not me,» I said. «It's my father, Corwin of Amber.
A silver rose stood within a bud vase before the portrait. Whether it was a real rose or the product of art or magic, I could not tell.
And Grayswandir lay there before it, drawn a few inches from the scabbard. I'd a feeling this was the real thing, that the version worn by the Pattern ghost of my father was itself a reconstruction.
I reached forward, raised it, drew it.
There was a feeling of power as I held it, swung it, struck an en garde, lunged, advanced. The spikard came alive, center of a web of forces. I looked down, suddenly self-conscious.
«And this is m father's blade,» I said, returning to the altar, where I sheathed it. Reluctantly, I left it there.
As I backed away, Glait asked, «Thiss iss important?»
«Very,» I said as the way caught hold of me and sent me back to the treetop.
«What now, Masster Merlin?»
«I must get on to lunch with my mother.»
«In that case, you'd besst drop me here.»
«I could return you to the vase.»
«No. I haven't lurked in a tree for a time. Thiss will be fine.»
I extended my arm. She unwound herself and flowed away across gleaming branches.
«Good luck, Merlin. Vissit me.»
And I was down the tree, snagging my trousers only once, and off up the corridor at a quick pace.
Two turns later I came to a way to the main hall and decided I'd better take it. I popped through beside the massive fireplace - high flames braiding themselves within it - and turned slowly to survey the huge chamber, trying to seem as if I had been there a long while, waiting.
I seemed the only person present. Which, on reflection, struck me as a bit odd, with the fire roaring that way. I adjusted my shirtfront, brushed myself off, ran my comb through my hair. I was inspecting my fingernails when I became aware of a flash of movement at the head of the great staircase to my left.
She was a blizzard within a ten-foot tower. Lightnings danced at its center, crackling; particles of ice clicked and rattled upon the stair; the banister grew frosted where she passed. My mother. She seemed to see me at about the same time I saw her, for she halted. Then she made the turn onto the stair and began her descent.
As she descended, she shifted smoothly, her appearance changing almost from step to step. As soon as I realized what was occurring I relaxed my own efforts and reversed their small effects. I had commenced changing the moment I had seen her, and presumably she had done the same on viewing me. I hadn't thought she'd go to that extent to humor me, a second time, here on her own turf.
The shift was completed just as she reached the bottommost stair, becoming a lovely woman in black trousers and red shirt with flared sleeves. She looked at me again and smiled, moved toward me, embraced me.
It would have been gauche to say that I'd intended shifting but had forgotten. Or any other remark on the matter.
She pushed me out to arm's distance, lowered her gaze and raised it, shook her head.
«Do you sleep in your clothes before or after violent exercise?» she asked me.
«That's unkind,» I said. «I stopped to sightsee on the way over and ran into a few problems.»
«That is why you are late?»
«No. I'm late because I stopped in our gallery and took longer than I'd intended. And I'm not very late.» She took hold of my arm and turned me.
«I will forgive you,» she said, steering me toward the rose and green and gold-flecked pillar of ways, set in the mirrored alcove across the room to the right.
I didn't feel that called for a response, so I didn't make one. I watched with interest as we entered the alcove, to see whether she would conduct me in a clockwise direction or its opposite about the pillar.
The opposite, it turned out. Interesting.
We were reflected and re-reflected from the three sides. So was the room we had quitted. And with each circuit we made of the pillar it became a different room.
I watched it change, kaleidoscopically, until she halted me before the crystal grotto beside the underground sea. «It's been a long time since I thought of this place,»
I said, stepping forth upon the pure white sand into the crystal-cast light, variously reminiscent of bonfires, solar reflections, candelabra, and LED displays, functions of size and distancing perhaps, laying occasional pieces of rainbow upon the shore, the walls, the black water.
She took my hand and led me toward a raised and railed platform some small distance off to the right. A table stood full set upon it. A collection of covered trays occupied a larger serving table inland of it. We mounted a small stair, and I seated her and moved to check out the goodies next door.
«Do sit down, Merlin,» she said. «I'll serve you.»
«That's all right,» I answered, raising a lid. «I'm already here. I'll do the first round.»
She was on her feet.
«Buffet style then,» she said.
«Sure.»
We filled our plates and moved to the table. Seconds after we had seated ourselves a brilliant flash of light came to us across the water, illuminating the arching dome of the cavern vault like the ribbed interior of some massive beast that was digesting us.
«You needn't look so apprehensive. You know they can't come in this far.»
«Waiting for a thunderclap puts my appetite on hold,» I said.
She laughed just as a distant roll of thunder reached us.
«And that makes everything all right?» she asked.
«Yes,» I replied, raising my fork.
«Strange, the relatives life gives us,» she said.
I looked at her, tried to read her expression, couldn't.
So, «Yes,» I said.
She studied me for a moment, but I wasn't giving anything away either. So, «When you were a child you went monosyllabic as a sign of petulance,» she said.
«Yes,» I said.
We began eating. There were more flashes out over the still, dark sea. By light of the last one I thought I caught sight of a distant ship, black sails full-rigged and bellied.
«You kept your engagement with Mandor earlier?»
«Yes.»
«How is he?»
«Fine.»
«Something bothering you, Merlin?»
«Many things.»
«Tell Mother?»
«What if she's a part of it?»
«I would be disappointed if I were not. Still, how long will you hold the business of the ty' iga against me? I did what I thought was right. I still think it was.»
I nodded and continued chewing. After a time, «You made that clear last cycle,» I said.
The waters gave a small sloshing sound. A spectrum drifted across our table, her face.
«Is there something else?» she asked.
«Why don't you tell me?» I said.
I felt her gaze. I met it.
«I don't know what you mean,» she answered.
«Are you aware that the Logrus is sentient? And the: Pattern?» I said.
