The Chronicles of Amber

“Not yet.”

I chewed my lip. “It's been too long. Something's wrong.”

“We don't know that. Maybe he's still talking with the king. Or…”

“Or what?”

Aber swallowed. “Maybe he's been arrested.”

“If so, wouldn't someone tell us?” I said. “Besides, why should he be arrested? As far as we know, he hasn't done anything.”

“I suppose you're right. But I've never heard of the King's guards searching someone's house… especially not a Lord of Chaos's house. They wouldn't do it without cause.”

“No, they wouldn't.” I mulled that over. “There must be a reason. But what?”

“Something Dad's done—”

“Or something he's suspected of,” I said.

We looked at each other.

Neither of us had an answer.

Chapter 10

We talked for another hour, trying to work out what Dad might have done to incur the king's wrath, but we made no real progress. It could have been anything… from insulting the wrong woman at a dinner party to swiping King Uthor's wooden leg (assuming he had a wooden leg, which I very much doubted—but we had a good laugh over it).

Despite all our theories, we both kept coming back to the guards who had searched our house. What had they been looking for? Something small… something easily hidden… something Dad shouldn't have had. What could it be?

My instincts told me the answer was important. It might well be the key to understanding everything that had happened to our family, from the murders of so many of our brothers and sisters to the attack on Juniper Castle.

“We might as well sleep on it,” I finally told Aber, since we didn't seem to be making any progress. “Maybe the answer will come to us.”

“I guess.”

“And you'll try to reach Taine with his Trump?”

“Right away. And what about you?” he asked. “Will you be safe now?”

“I think so.” I sighed, eyes distant. “I don't think the serpent-creature will try anything else tonight.”

“I'm sure he won't. He'll deal more cautiously with you from now on. After all, you might surprise him with another magical attack, and next time you might kill him.”

“It wasn't anything deliberate. I was lucky.”

“Luck is all it takes.” He gave a shrug. “Sometimes it's better to be lucky than skilled. Something is still troubling me, though.”

I nodded. “Our enemies know too much about us. And I don't like that serpent spying on me in my own bed in my own room in this house. How long has it been doing that? Does it know everything we've been talking about?”

“I don't like it, either,” he admitted. “It doesn't make me feel safe here.”

I stood and began to pace like a caged tiger. “Is there something you can do to protect us? Some charm or spell to keep prying eyes out?”

“Spells can be set up to shield us. I'm sure Dad could do it, and easily. Freda, too.”

I chewed my lower lip thoughtfully. He hadn't volunteered his own magical talents to protect us. What did that imply? Uncertainty… or weakness?

“That's no help,” I said. “Dad and Freda aren't here, and we need protection immediately. For all we know, that serpent is watching us right now and plotting his next attack.”

“If so…” He made a rude gesture toward the ceiling.

I couldn't help myself; despite the gravity of the situation, I chuckled. But it still didn't change the situation.

I asked, “What about you? Can you do anything to protect us?”

Aber hesitated. “It's not the sort of thing at which I'm skilled.”

“Give it a try,” I urged. “It can't hurt.”

He sighed. “All right.”

“Will it take long?”

“Maybe an hour to prepare everything, set up the spells, and lay them over the house. Maybe a little more if I run into problems.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” For some reason, I longed to see more real magic… perhaps because I had managed to use some myself. If I could learn to control this Pattern, to master its power the way the serpent in the tower had mastered the Logrus, I might stand a fighting chance against it.

“No. It's fairly delicate work, and it will require all my concentration.”

“So I'd be in the way,” I said, with a twinge of disappointment. “All right. I'll stay here.”

“That's probably for the best.” He said it with clear relief, as though I might inadvertently mess up his work. “Better for you that way. It's fairly meticulous Logrus manipulation—setting up magical trip-wires, in case we have magical prowlers. That way we'll be alerted if someone comes snooping.”

“Let me know when you're done. If you run into problems or need my help, don't hesitate to call.” I grinned and gave a wry attempt at humor. “I might not be able to use the Logrus, but I have a strong back. Give me a heavy box and I'll carry it for you.”

“No boxes involved, I'm afraid.”

He seemed distracted—probably already laying out the spells in his mind—and when he gave a curt nod and stood, I did not object. Best to get the spells in place before the serpent tried again to kill me—or any of us. I knew it would be back if we didn't act swiftly.

Aber headed for the door, paused, looked back.

“Don't forget—have your valet watch you while you sleep,” he said, “just in case.”

“All right.”

After the door closed, I turned to the desk and sat heavily, mentally reviewing everything that had happened in the tower of skulls. What else should I have done? What else could I have done?

I hadn't told Aber this, but the Pattern I'd reshaped had obeyed my commands… as though it understood what I'd told it to do.

How could that be possible?

It had almost seemed alive. And, when I touched it, it made me feel whole and strong, better than I'd felt in years. I still felt that way, I realized, flexing my fingers and staring down at my hands, remembering the feeling of power that had surged through me. Even the slight stiffness in my left thumb, due to a months-old battle injury, had disappeared.

Not only that, but the floors and walls no longer seemed to be moving. Everything around me seemed normal… or as normal as it could be, in a world where nothing obeyed the laws of nature I had grown up with.

Rising, I began to pace the length of my room again. I felt trapped and restless. Clearly, I wasn't ready to go back to sleep.

Opening the door to the next room, I checked on Horace and found him curled up on a small bed in the corner, still fully dressed. He was already asleep, poor kid. Easing the door shut, I went back to the door to the hallway.

“Shouldn't you be in bed, Lord Oberon?” said Port, gazing up at me. “The hour is late and you look terrible.”

“I thought you were a door, not a doctor.”