The Chronicles of Amber

sounded like some soothsayer’s trick to me, so vague as to be useless for anything—except manipulating me to her ends. And yet… I had seen enough magic and miracles in the last day to make me wonder if I might not be wrong.

“Well,” I finally said, “I do hope it’s true. But I don’t have any way to know—and neither does anyone else. Is that enough to make Locke hate me? The fact that Freda thinks I can help save the whole family?”

“No.” He hesitated again.

“There’s something else,” I said. “Spill it.”

“Dad has always spoken fondly of you—perhaps too fondly—Oberon this, and Oberon that; how great a swordsman you were becoming. Locke has always been jealous. Dad never talked about him that way when he was growing up in the Courts of Chaos, as he’s quick to remind us all.”

I said, “And now that I’m actually here… now that Locke’s greatest rival is flesh and bone instead of tall tales around the fireplace… and now that Freda has predicted that I’ll save the whole family instead of him… Locke’s feeling threatened. Almost desperately so.”

“He is the first-born son, after all,” Aber said, almost apologetically. “But Dad could easily name another heir… one he likes better… you.”

Me! That’s what all this was about, I realized. Freda believed I stood a chance of inheriting the family titles and lands, whatever they were. Perhaps she’d read it in her cards. Perhaps Dworkin had somehow given her the impression he favored me. Or perhaps she hated Locke so much that she’d throw in with any promising rival who happened along.

It didn’t matter. The impossibility of it all struck me then, and I laughed out loud.

Aber stared at me like I’d gone mad.

I said, “It’s unlikely that I will inherit anything.”

“Titles often pass to the strongest, not necessarily the first-born.”

I shook my head. “I’m hardly the strongest. I have no friends or allies. I don’t know anyone here. And I have no interest in titles.”

“Maybe that’s what makes you dangerous. Look at it this way. Locke’s never been Dad’s favorite. He knows it. But as the first-born son, he’s always had advantages over you. For one, he’s always been here, helping Dad. For another, he’s already got a large and incredibly loyal army behind him.”

I raised my eyebrows. “And I’m just supposed to walk in and take both of these advantages away from him? How?”

“Well, you are here.” Aber shrugged almost apologetically. “Late is better than never. And you do have military experience… more than Locke, probably, considering you’ve been a career soldier. Dad’s told us about the battles you’ve fought against those you call hell-creatures. The army here demands a strong leader… an experienced soldier. And since you’re the one apparently destined to win this war for our side, as everyone here already knows, well… why not you?”

Why not indeed, I thought. No wonder Locke hated and feared me. There is nothing quite as powerful as a legend… and apparently my own talents had grown with every telling.

Add to that Freda’s prophecy…

I almost hated to tell Aber I was just a man with no interest or ambitions beyond reclaiming my own name and place in our family. He wouldn’t like it.

But I did so. I denied everything.

“Freda made it all up,” I said. “It’s a joke, a hoax, designed to hurt Locke’s position in the family. I don’t want to rule in Juniper or anywhere else. I’m too young to settle down. And now that I’ve seen the way you can all travel through Shadows… well, I want to do it, too!”

“But you must!” he said. “Everyone wants to rule!”

“Not me.”

“And Freda saw it—”

“No, Freda said she saw it.”

“You’re calling her a liar?”

“No.” I shrugged. “All I’m saying is this: I don’t believe in the power of Freda or her magical future-telling cards. Since I don’t believe, I don’t feel bound to live by their forecasts. I have no intention of taking lands, titles, or armies away from Locke… or anyone else.”

“You really mean that, don’t you?” he asked. I could hear the awe in his voice.

“Yes.”

“Then you are the best of us all.” He bowed slightly. “And you may be the only one of us who actually deserves to rule.”

“Nonsense.” I gave a dismissive wave. “Leave that to those who want to rule.”

He put his hand on my shoulder. “I mean it, brother… I’m happy you’re here. And I hope we can be friends.”

I clasped his shoulder, too. “We already are.”

“Freda was right, you know,” he said, releasing me. “You are the prize of the family. I see it now. Locke has every reason to feel threatened, whether you admit it or not.”

“Then let me ask you this—if Dworkin prizes me so much, why did he abandon me in Ilerium all these years? Locke’s opinion be damned. If he’d wanted to, he could have gone and fetched me at any time.”

“I don’t know. Ask him.” He glanced toward the main corridor. “He’s waiting… we should go.”

“Answer one more question first.”

“All right.”

“Truthfully—what’s all this about? The war, the killings. How did it start? Who’s behind it?”

He frowned, and I could tell it troubled him.

“We have hereditary rivals in the Courts of Chaos. Enemies for generations. Somehow, one of us—Freda thinks it’s Dad, but she isn’t sure—did something to rekindle one of those old feuds…”

“And it can’t be laid to rest? What about the King in Chaos? Couldn’t he stop it?”

“Perhaps. But we have our pride. We’d never have any power again if we ran crying to King Uthor.”

“I see your point,” I shook my head. “Do you have any idea who might be responsible?”

“No… just that it’s someone very powerful. Whoever it is began the war by trying to kill off our whole family… everyone in Shadow has been attacked in one way or another.”

“To what end?”

“Destroying the bloodline, I guess. That’s the ultimate revenge, isn’t it?”

“That’s more than a little pissed off.”

A sudden, horrible realization hit. Dworkin had been right—the hell-creatures in Ilerium had been after me… and me alone. The whole invasion had happened just to find and kill me.

He had said the hell-creatures would leave our country alone after he had rescued me. No wonder—they had no reason to continue the fight if I wasn’t there any more. By simply leaving, I had probably done what King Elnar and all his men had been unable to do in a year of fighting.

“I think Freda’s right about you,” Aber went on. “You won’t take Locke’s orders blindly, the way the others do, and that’s worth a lot. If you’re even half the warrior I think you are, you could end up heir.”

“Even if I wanted it—which I don’t—” I gave a sweep of my arm, taking in all of Juniper. “I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

“Juniper?” He chuckled. “This is just a Shadow, and you could easily find another like it, if you wanted. I meant heir to the family. To us… to our position within the Courts of Chaos. Dad holds a title there, and of course all the rights and privileges that go with—”

He broke off when the heavy oak door before us opened suddenly. From inside, Dworkin squinted up at me. He seemed older and much more tired looking now, as if our adventure over the last twenty-four hours had taken their toll.

“I thought I heard you,” he said, taking my arm and pulling me inside. His grip still felt like iron. “You certainly took your time getting here, Oberon.”

He closed the door in Aber’s face.