The Chronicles of Amber

“It is wise to be careful when traveling,” she said with a slight incline of her head. “I am sure it is for our safety.”

“Then tell me more about Juniper.”

“What is there to tell? It is a remote Shadow. I think Father once hoped to retire there to a quiet life of study and reflection, but all these attacks have forced him to be a man of action. It is against his nature, but he can be a man of action… a hero… when he chooses. Or when he is forced to be.” She peeked out the window. “We are close now. I do recognize this land.”

“All things considered,” I said, “this has been one of the worst nights of my life.” Only my mother’s death seemed more terrible. “All told, I’d rather be home. At least I knew where I stood there… or thought I did.”

A look of profound sadness crossed her face as I said that, and I realized I’d unintentionally touched upon a sensitive topic—home.

“I’m sorry,” I said, the truth suddenly dawning on me. “Your home… it’s gone, isn’t it? Was it attacked by hell-creatures, too?”

She nodded. “I called it Ne’erwhon,” she said. “It was… beautiful. And peaceful. And they destroyed it when they tried to take me. Father rescued me just in time.”

Her story sounded disturbingly similar to mine, and I said as much.

“Father has been rounding up a lot of people,” she said. “As soon as he discovered his friends and relatives were being hunted down, he set out to rescue every one of us. That is why there is such a gathering at Juniper now.”

“I had no idea,” I said.

“None of us did.” Freda forced a yawn. “It has been a long trip for me, and I am growing tired. I hope you do not think it rude, but…”

She leaned back and closed her eyes.

“Not at all,” I murmured.

She’d found the perfect way to escape my questions. And just as the answers were getting interesting, too.

I sat back, waiting patiently until her breathing grew steady and I saw her eyes start to dart beneath their lids. Let her dream of better days; work remained.

Making as little noise as possible, I gave the carriage a quick search. No papers, no scrolls or books, no magical crystals that shot lines of fire. A small lever to the side operated some hidden mechanism—probably to open the door.

Then I discovered the seat beneath me moved. I swung it up, revealing a storage compartment. Inside lay a stack of soft white blankets… nothing else.

Sighing, I covered Freda with a blanket. Might as well make her comfortable. She stirred for an instant, murmured a thank-you, then lay still.

A little disappointed at not having found something more worthwhile, I sat back to ponder my situation. Freda, I noticed, had left her box of Trumps on the table between us. It could have been an invitation to look through them… but somehow they seemed foreboding. I had seen enough of them to know they didn’t mean much without an expert to name the portraits and places. And what if they started to move? I wouldn’t know what to do, short of turning them over or covering them with my hand, as Freda had done. Better to leave them alone.

Other than that, the carriage had no furnishings, no clues for me to puzzle over. It had been cleaned so thoroughly that not a smudge remained to tell of any previous passengers.

Turning back to the windows, thinking of all I had seen, all I had done in the last day, I stared out once more as mile after mile of greenery rolled past. Trumps… Shadows… this magical journey… Juniper… The Courts of Chaos… it made a confusing hodge-podge in my mind.

I felt grateful that Uncle Dworkin had come back to rescue me, after so many years of abandonment, but somehow I thought he must have other motives. What? Where did I fit into his plans?

Somehow, I didn’t think I’d like the answers.

Chapter 6

It turned out Freda really was exhausted. A few minutes after I covered her with that blanket, she began to snore. Perhaps magic took more out of her than I realized—though I still didn’t put much trust in her future-telling skills. When she’d read her Trumps, she hadn’t revealed more than crumbs of information… a few names, a few hints of dire things to come, which might or might not involve Dworkin and his various children.

Still, I had seen a picture of Juniper, so I didn’t count it as a waste of time. And I had learned I didn’t want to go to the Courts of Chaos. Something about the place made my skin crawl.

After a few more minutes of staring out the window and finding nothing but more questions, I gave up. Maybe Freda had the right idea, I decided, leaning back in the comfortable padded seat and stretching out my long legs.

It had been an exhausting night, and I’d only had an hour or two of sleep. Might as well try to catch up.

I closed my eyes. Exhaustion flooded over me, but for the longest time I found myself twisting and turning, trying to get comfortable. My thoughts kept racing through the events of the day, turning over all the questions I’d already asked myself, but finding no more answers.

Finally, sleep did come, but it was not the sleep of the dead. It was anything but refreshing. Dreams of Helda and the hell-creatures haunted me, of burning buildings and green fires and horses that spat sparks, and towering over it all, a fairy tale castle grown to nightmare proportions—the legendary Juniper.

Some time later the carriage began to slow. I sensed the change in our pace and came awake instantly, yawning and stretching the kinks from my muscles.

Opposite me, her chin on her chest, Freda snored softly. No sense in waking her yet, I decided. Better to wait till we actually reached our destination.

I pushed back the lace curtain and peered out.

Morning had given way to late afternoon, if the fading light of the sun proved a true indicator of time. The verdant green forests had been replaced by open fields—and a sprawling army camp that stretched as far as the eye could see. Long rows of tents, pens of horses, sheep, and cattle, hundreds of cooking fires, and countless thousands of soldiers—some with the extra joints in the arms, some fully human—filled my view. I couldn’t hear much through the carriage walls, but my imagination filled in the sounds of a camp life, the boasting talk of soldiers at work and leisure, the tramp of boots, the squeak of leather and the jingle of chain mail.

We passed a large open field where dozens of squads marched and drilled, and in the distance I saw more soldiers paired off to practice swordsmanship. It was a familiar enough scene, but on a larger scale than I had ever witnessed before.

King Elnar had raised an army of eight thousand against the hell-creatures, and I had thought he commanded a huge force. This one dwarfed it. There had to be tens of thousands of soldiers here, I thought with awe. Again we rolled past row after row after row of tents.

But whom did they serve? No small keep like Dworkin’s could possibly support this many soldiers. He must have allies—powerful ones. None of the Fifteen Kingdoms could have summoned up and sustained a force like this one.

Opening the window, I leaned far out and craned my neck. At once I spotted what had to be our destination: Juniper, just as Aber had painted it. But he hadn’t done it justice.

An immense moss-and-ivy draped stone castle set high on a hill, its ancient walls had to be eighty feet high. Even at this distance I could clearly see half a dozen men patrolling the battlements.

When the road turned and headed straight toward Juniper, our horsemen-escort peeled off. The castle’s huge stone walls had been built of massive blocks nearly as tall as me—an impressive feat of engineering, I thought. It would be hard to take this place by siege.