The Chronicles of Amber

Only now had he begun to recover.

I went on. “Do you remember anything about me? Do you remember fighting hell-creatures in Ilerium? Do you remember anything more of your old life?”

It gnashed its wooden teeth, but made no reply. Apparently it didn't remember. Considering how I'd destroyed King Elnar's head the last time we met, the tree's lack of memory probably shouldn't have surprised me. With his brains scattered across a battlefield on another Shadow, how could he remember much of anything?

“Do you know your own name?” I asked. If I pressed him for information, perhaps he would recall more.

“Ev… Agg… Ygg… ?”

“You don't remember,” I said sadly. I had hoped, for a moment, that more of King Elnar remained. “Do you recall anything of your days as a man? Do you remember your kingdom?”

“So much darkness…” it whispered. “Shadows fill my mind… there is nothing left…”

“Think!” I cried.

It gave a sob. “I cannot! My memories are gone! I cannot recall anything before I awoke here!”

I glanced at the unicorn. She stamped her feet impatiently and slipped into the trees. Time to go. She wanted me to follow.

Hurriedly, I said, “I have to leave. If you'll talk to me instead of calling me names, I promise I'll return when I can.”

“I agree… Oberon.”

“Thank you, old friend.”

Giving it a brief salute, I took a deep breath and faced the stream again. Snorting, the unicorn moved farther into the trees, dark gray on black beneath a canopy of leaves, drifting away. The reddish glint of her eyes seemed almost catlike as she watched me now. I knew she hadn't enjoyed waiting, but after all, she and her kind had brought King Elnar back; what could I do?

Briskly I hiked after her, splashing across the stream and entering the cool, moist-smelling forest. No birds sang here, nor did any insects chirp or buzz or wing through the air. Each leaf, mushroom, and splay of sunlight filtering down through the treetops took on a special sharpness, as though each line had been carefully etched with a needle-sharp tool. We were cutting across Shadows, through world after world after world. The air almost sang with power.

When I reached the spot where she had been standing, a faint flash of white, ahead and to the left, drew me farther into the trees. The faintest of trails wound among the ancient oaks and pines, skirting rocks, twisting and climbing into low hills.

So it went. Over the next half hour, she lead me through the forest, then into grassy hills dotted with the round shoulders of ancient boulders. We crossed lush but empty valleys where wind sang a single mournful note, and then again entered a long stretch of primal forest where a peaceful, hush hung over everything. I could not tell if we were traveling through Shadows, but I didn't think so.

Finally, we pushed through a thick hedge and entered a broad clearing. Here, in its center, on top of a huge stone slab that must have been a hundred and fifty feet wide, shone the Pattern that my father had inscribed with his own blood. It glowed with a clear bluish-white light, cold and beautiful… more beautiful than the last Pattern, perfect this time in every way.

Slowly I approached it. Waves of energy came off its sleek lines, humming deep inside me. It felt good. Strange, unlike anything else, but good.

I basked at its edge, eyes shut, just feeling its nearness. Warm all over, strong and more alive than I had ever felt before, I might have stood there for days had a snorting bark of sound not jarred me from my half-sleep.

The unicorn. It still wanted something. Almost reluctantly, I forced my eyes open.

As my gaze swept across the length of the Pattern, searching for her, I noticed a curious lump in the exact middle. Aesthetically, it didn't belong. I stared at it, puzzling, and slowly realized it was the body of a man. Dark shirt and pants, graying hair… my father?

Panic surged through me. The longer I stared, the more certain I became. It had to be him.

“Dad?” I called, taking a step forward. “Are you all right? Can you hear me? Dad! ”

He didn't so much as stir. How had he gotten there? I'd watched him disappear after creating the Pattern, teleported off to gods knew where. Why had he returned? Had he left something undone and returned to finish, only to be attacked? Or had he been hurt somewhere else and fled here for safety?

Or maybe it wasn't him.

Swallowing hard, I drew up short. Considering how powerful our enemies seemed to be, this might be a trap of some kind.

I glanced toward the place I'd last seen the unicorn, but she had disappeared again—probably watching from cover. Clearly she had brought me here for a reason, though. Why else but to save my father?

I didn't think she would lead me into a trap, but nevertheless I circled the Pattern warily, keeping a close watch on the body. When I finished my circuit, I found myself no closer to an answer. Nothing unexpected had happened. No hell-creatures had jumped from the hedge with swords raised. No barrage of arrows had flown at me. No sorcerers had hurled flames or lightning-bolts in my direction.

My every instinct said it wasn't a trap. If someone wanted to kill me, the perfect opportunity had already come and gone.

And Dad still lay unmoving in the middle of the Pattern.

I took a deep breath. Nothing to do now but investigate.

With a last glance around, I stalked toward the body. As I reached the edge of the Pattern, though, I seemed to run into an invisible wall. As much as I tried, I couldn't force my way through. The wall wasn't physical, as far as I could tell. But I couldn't get past it no matter how hard I pushed.

Circling to the right, I tried several more times to get to my father but met the same impenetrable barrier. I couldn't cross onto the Pattern no matter how hard I tried.

I stepped back to think. Dad or the unicorn must have put the barrier in place to protect the Pattern. It made a certain amount of sense. If King Uthor, Lord Zon, or anyone else from Chaos found a way to get here, we didn't want them destroying the Pattern.

Only that didn't help Dad or me right now. If I couldn't get to my father, how could I help him? For all I knew, he might already be dead.

I frowned. Think, think, think!

Dad always said every problem had a solution—you just had to find it. I tried to look at the situation from a different point of view. If I couldn't get to him… perhaps he could get to me.

“Dad!” I called again, as loudly as I could. “Listen carefully! It's Oberon! Can you hear me? Can you stand up? Give me a sign! Dad!”

No answer. He didn't so much as twitch.

He might have been lying there for days or weeks. Time moved strangely from Shadow to Shadow. How long had I been trapped in that gray fog, anyway? I had no way of knowing.

Until I found out otherwise, I had to assume he was alive but merely unconscious. Perhaps creating the Pattern had done something to him—exhausted him to the point of collapse. Maybe the unicorn had brought him back here for his own safety. I couldn't rule anything out.

I paced around the Pattern, trying to figure a way through. If I had a Trump showing the center of the Pattern, I could use it to travel there. I supposed I could always try to draw one… but with what? I had no pen, no ink. I could use my own blood, I supposed—but then I didn't have any paper or vellum.

“Dad!” I called again. “Wake up! Dad!”

Still no response. I looked around for the unicorn. Never a divine being when you needed one… she seemed to have abandoned me here.

I recalled how I had once traveled across an image of the Pattern inside the unicorn's ruby. It had been difficult, but not impossibly so. If this version worked the same way, maybe I could work my way through it to reach