The Chronicles of Amber

“Don't be fatalistic.”

“Easy for you to say. You don't know what you're talking about. Or what we would be up against. On the other hand, I don't believe he's behind the attacks.”

“No? Why not?”

“Because he wouldn't need to be sneaky about them. He could simply proclaim us enemies and order our deaths. Chaos is more than a place… it is a power. Unleashed it in its primal form, it can devour whole worlds.”

I shrugged; it sounded like an exaggeration to me, but I had no way to judge. “All right. Let's consider the other possibility… what if it isn't King Uthor behind the attacks?”

“Then he'd have every reason to protect us. We are, after all, loyal subjects.”

“Exactly! Now, what if—by not firming up our alliance with him—we miss the chance to save our family and ourselves?”

“You argue too well,” Aber complained. “You almost make it sound possible.”

“It is possible.”

He sighed. “King Uthor would take one look at me and either burst out laughing or eat me alive. He doesn't need allies… allies need him.”

“You never know until you try.”

“I think we're better off staying away from court.”

“Any particular reason?”

“No… it's just a feeling I have.”

“King Uthor has no cause to arrest us,” I pointed out. “Neither you nor I have done nothing wrong. And we have a good reason for going—to look for our father. Who can argue with that?”

“I can,” he said. “Think about it. What if the attacks have all been part of a blood feud? In which case, he'd have every right to kill us out of hand just for showing up and annoying him.”

I mulled that over. “It can't be so easy for him to kill people. Kings don't slaughter nobility. They wouldn't be kings very long if they did.”

He shifted uneasily. “Well, no. Technically, he'd have to follow court etiquette. You'd be insulted, then challenged to a duel by one of his champions.”

“And killed?”

“How good are you with a trisp?”

“A what?”

He chuckled. “I thought so. It's a traditional weapon, kind of like a cat's claw, but larger, and its blades extend. You attack with a trisp and defend with a fandon—which, I assume, you've also never used?”

“A fandon? No, I've never seen or heard of it.”

“You haven't missed much. Except for tradition, I think everyone would have abandoned them centuries ago in favor of swords.”

“So I'd be killed with a trisp?”

“Sliced to bits.” He chuckled grimly. “Me too, for that matter. I can never keep my fandon up properly. The way the stones move—”

“Wait!” I said. “Stones? That move?”

“Right. You stand on them. They float, but they respond to subtle movements of your feet. Up, down, left, right—you keep your stone moving and keep your opponent off balance.”

“You're making all this up,” I said accusingly. Weapons I'd never heard of—and now we had to fight on floating stones?

He shrugged. “It's true. There are traditional ways of doing everything here. Dueling with trisp and fandon is the recognized way to settle disputes.”

Despite my skepticism, he did not seem to be joking with me. Maybe these weapons were real after all. I mulled over the possibilities. Fighting in mid-air with weapons I'd never used before… I wouldn't stand a chance. Maybe a visit to King Uthor's court should be held back as a last resort.

I remembered our father's phenomenal skills with a blade, then Locke's offhand comment that Dad wasn't terribly good by Chaos standards. What tremendous fighters must these Lords of Chaos be!

“Come on,” Aber said, rising. “First let's see what happens when you go outside. I'm tired of being locked indoors. Fresh air will do us both some good. And maybe Dad will show up in the meantime.”

I had no choice but to agree, so I rose and followed him. With an unerring sense of direction, he passed through a maze of hallways that seemed to twist in upon themselves. Finally our passage dead-ended at a heavy wooden door, which he pushed open.

I stared through the doorway at a broad, sand-covered courtyard. On the other side, a hundred yards away, rose a stone wall perhaps thirty feet high. The wall extended to either side as far as I could see, apparently circling the house. Guards in uniform patrolled the top of the wall, and more guards drilled with swords and shields fifty yards to the right, at the far edge of the courtyard. The steady tramp of boots and the ring of steel on steel, of sword on sword, made it a familiar, welcome sound.

Then I made the mistake of looking up. Ye gods! The sky unnerved me—if sky you could call something that churned like a storm-tossed sea. Twisting colors, a splash of drifting stars, sudden spikes of blue lightning, and half a dozen moons all moving in different directions made my head swim. Gazing upon it sent waves of nausea and dizziness through me, and against my will I felt my body start to drift. The roar of phantom winds rose to fill my ears.

“Hey!” I heard a distant voice shouting. “Oberon! Look at me! Oberon!”

It was Aber. I forced my attention to him and focused on his concerned face. Grabbing his arm, I steadied myself. I felt sick, off balance, disoriented.

“I hear you,” I said. “The sky…”

“If it's too much for you, say so!” he said. “We don't have to stay outside long. But I think it's important for you to get used to it.”

“Yes.” I nodded; that made a lot of sense.

Pointedly, I did not look up. The universe grew steady once more and the roar of wind in my ears lessened.

Aber started forward briskly, out of the house, into the courtyard. I followed. Sand crunched under my boots, and the air carried strange spicy scents like nothing I could identify.

“What do you think?” he asked, indicating the whole of the house and sky with a sweep of his arm.

Gulping, I lowered my eyes and concentrated on the ground at my feet. Out here, what had looked like sand turned out to be something else. The whole courtyard seethed with movement underfoot, as sand and stone shifted constantly, like a mass of crawling insects. And yet neither Aber nor I sank into the ground. We walked normally, as though we stood on solid land.

Aber, grinning like a madman, threw wide his arms.

“What do you think?” he cried again, gazing up at the sky. “Isn't it splendid? Doesn't it make your heart race and your senses quicken? Can you feel it around us?”

“You're insane!” I gasped out. “It's a nightmare!”

Chapter 13

Aber laughed at me.

“So—this is—what the Courts of Chaos—are like?”

“Just about,” he said. “In the Beyond, we're quite close… I can feel the pull of Chaos, like a current moving through the air. You should be able to sense it, too.”

I just stared at him, bewildered. “What do you mean, sense it? I don't quite understand.”

“Close your eyes.”

I did so. I felt myself swaying, and the ground seemed to slide down and away from me.