The Chronicles of Amber

have to clear out all the brush at the edge of the forest and post sentries. This can’t happen again.”

“Burn it off?” Davin asked.

I left them and went to the abandoned bedrolls. When I picked the first one up, something small fluttered down from its folds… a Trump, I realized from its blue back, complete with gold lion. I glanced at Locke and Davin, but they hadn’t noticed.

“No,” Locke was saying. He had turned to face the other way, toward the heart of the forest. “We can’t risk a fire spreading out of control and reaching the camp. It will have to be done by hand.”

Carefully, trying to avoid attracting my brothers’ attention, I turned my back to them, picked up the card, and flipped it over.

It had Locke’s picture on it.

The hair on the back of my neck prickled with alarm. I glanced over my shoulder, but he and Davin were busy talking and weren’t paying the slightest attention to me. They hadn’t seen my discovery.

And I couldn’t let them see it. I saw the need for great care; in this family, it seemed I could never trust anyone if there was an alternative.

“I’ll get a detachment out as soon as we get back,” Davin said. “It’s going to be a two-day job, possibly three.”

I tucked the card into my sleeve, then rejoined them with a sigh of mock disgust.

“Nothing else here,” I announced.

Locke gave a nod, then turned and led the way back toward our horses. The cool touch of the Trump against my arm was a constant reminder of my discovery.

Locke… 

Why would the hell-creatures have his Trump… unless they needed to contact him?

And why would they contact him… unless he was the traitor?

Chapter 16

On the trip back to Juniper, I ranged ahead of the others, leaving Locke and Davin with their men. I rode neither hard nor fast enough to attract undue attention, but managed to get back a good ten minutes ahead of them.

All the way, winding through the tent city of their soldiers, crossing the drawbridge, and into the castle’s courtyard, I kept turning the implications of my discovery over and over in my mind.

We had a traitor in our midst. Ivinius’s presence—and the disappearance of his body—proved it. And the traitor had to be someone capable of using Trumps… which meant a family member.

But Locke?

Well, why not Locke?

He had been nothing short of hostile until this morning. And since Dworkin—I still found it hard to call him Dad—trusted him with the defenses of Juniper, his betrayal would be truly disastrous.

Or was I allowing personal dislike to cloud my judgment?

Safely ahead of the others, I pulled out the Trump I’d found, turned it over, and studied it without concentrating too hard on the picture. Locke… drawn exactly the same way as Freda’s Trump had been.

In fact, I realized with some dismay, this could be Freda’s Trump. But they couldn’t both be in league with hell-creatures… could they?

I knew one fact that might help: Aber had created this card. I’d ask him who it belonged to as soon as we got back to Jumper. If he could identify it… 

I left my horse with the grooms and went looking for Aber. I found Freda standing in the audience hall with Pella, Blaise, and a couple of women I didn’t recognize. The warning bell must have brought everyone out looking for news or rumors.

I joined them.

“Did you find anything?” Freda asked me, once suitable introductions had been made. As I had suspected, the women I didn’t recognize were the wives of two of Dworkin’s chancellors.

“I’m afraid not,” I said. I didn’t mention the Trump I’d found. “It was just a camp site. They had been spying on us for a couple of days.”

“Too bad. Are you all back now? Safe?”

“I’m a little ahead of the others,” I said, glancing toward the door. “Locke wants to clear the brush at the edge of the forest, and I’m sure he’s going to stop and detail those duties before reporting back. He and Davin shouldn’t be too long.”

She nodded thoughtfully, then took my arm and drew me aside. “And how did you find Locke today?” she asked more softly.

“Less…” I searched for the right word. “Less upset by my presence. I think he’s begun to accept me. Who knows, we might even end up friends.”

“Davin gave him a complete report about what Father said about you last night.”

I smiled lightly. “Yes, I got the feeling he knew about it. He has nothing to fear from me now. I cannot take his place without the Logrus.”

“Do not place too much trust in him yet. He may not view you as an enemy, but you are still a rival.”

“I won’t,” I promised. What would she think if she knew he wanted a private chat with me tonight? “Trust must be earned. He certainly hasn’t earned any yet.”

And he won’t earn it as long as there’s a chance he’s our traitor, I added silently.

“Good.” She smiled, the small lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth crinkling, “I hope you both make an effort at it. You can be of great help with the army, I know.”

“I hope so,” I said. Deliberately changing the subject, I asked, “Have you seen Aber?”

“Aber? Not since you left. You might look in his rooms. That’s where he spends most afternoons.”

“Thank you,” I said. I gave her and the chancellors’ wives a polite nod, then headed for the stairs. “Until dinner.”

Today I felt more comfortable navigating the castle’s seemingly endless stairs and corridors, and found my way safely to my rooms. I found Horace in my bedroom. My bed was covered with heaps of clothing.

“What’s all this?” I asked, staring.

“Mattus’s clothing, Lord,” Horace said, folding a shirt deftly and placing it in the wardrobe. “Lord Aber said I should bring it in for you.”

‘Thoughtful of him.”

“Yes, Lord.”

I realized I hadn’t had a chance to change yet from my workout, and now I stank not just of sweat, but of horse.

“Pick out new clothes for me,” I said, heading for the washbasin. “Then get the rest of them put away.” I’d clean up before going to see Aber, I decided.

Five minutes later, I went to Aber’s room and knocked sharply.

He called, “Enter at your own risk!” in cheerful tones.

I went in and found him sitting at a drafting table by the windows. Small bottles of colored pigments sat all around him, and he held a tiny horsehair brush in one hand.

He paused in his work. “What news from the woods, brother?” he asked.

“Nothing more than we already heard,” I said with a shrug. “The hell-creatures were long gone.”

“A pity,” he said.

I came closer, looking at the half-dozen Trumps sitting out on the table. “What are you doing?”

“Making a Trump.”

He picked it up and turned it so I could see… and though only half finished, it clearly showed a man standing