The Chronicles of Amber

hues of blue and gold. Then, as I watched, the ground shuddered and rippled like a lake in a windstorm. The rocks lay still.

“When I looked up, beyond the outside wall I saw a shimmering yellow-gold curtain of light slowly moving toward me. It must have been a hundred and fifty feet tall—maybe taller. I stepped outside to see better. Through the open gates to our estate, I saw the ground beneath it churning and breaking apart as it advanced.

“This was my first glimpse of a storm from the Shadows. I had heard tales of them before—they hit Chaos many years ago, I assume when Dad drew the very first Pattern and first created all the Shadows—but I had never thought I would see one this close.

“I backed up in sudden panic, then turned and fled into the house. The walls and floor shook; corpses slid across the ceiling. Colors bled like ink in water, and that sense of pressure building in my head grew so bad, I could barely see straight.

“I fled deeper inside, looking for a place to hide. Small balls of light appeared everywhere, rolling across the floor and walls and ceiling, pooling in the corners. Where could I go? Underground, maybe?

“As I ran toward the kitchens and the nearest staircase to the basement, the walls started to bubble and dissolve. A rushing, ripping, grinding noise rose to deafening levels. I would never make it—the storm had caught me.

“The walls started to peel away and fly into the air. An odd tingling began in my hands and feet. When I raised my arm, I found my flesh had grown translucent—I could see through it. If I didn't do something fast, I wouldn't live through the storm.

“I pulled out the first place-Trump I could find—it showed Triffiq Square in the Courts of Chaos—and used it to jump straight there. I barely made it in time. When I came through, I collapsed and couldn't get up for a few minutes. My arms and legs wouldn't work. I must have been babbling incoherently—I remember strangers helping me up and asking me questions I couldn't understand—but everything else is jumbled and fragmentary.

“Someone there must have recognized me and reported my arrival to Uthor's spies. By the time I came to my senses, the lai she'one were on the lookout for me. I spent the better part of a day losing them. Of course, the Shadow storm helped—between earthquakes, lightning storms, and squalls of destruction like the one that hit our house in the Beyond, not even their urhounds made much progress that day.

“For two days, I hid out and watched and tried not to attract any attention. The storm-darkened sky continued to show spectacular light-effects. Now and then the ground shook—a lot more than it should have, anyway—but the storms that reached the Courts were nowhere near as bad as the ones in the Beyond.

“Over the next few days, I tried repeatedly to reach family members. I managed to contact Conner and Freda. Conner was in the Beyond, safely ensconced with Titus at their Uncle Clengaru's keep, which had been spared from the worst of the Pattern storms; Freda had taken refuge with one of her aunts in the Courts. Neither could take me in, so that left me in something of a quandary. With the Shadows gone, our ancestral home destroyed, and the lai she'one searching for all of us, I didn't have many choices left.

“Finally, in desperation, I returned to the Beyond. Our home had been devastated; what the lai she'one hadn't destroyed, the storm had. The walls had melted, the roof had been ripped away, and little remained beyond a misshapen puddle of melted stone, wood, and glass. Only one wall still stood from the main building, and at its tallest, it couldn't have been more than six feet.

“For a while, I searched among the debris, but found nothing of any possible use. Everything had melted and run together. It was a complete loss.

“I took shelter in one of the small guardhouses that had been part of the wall surrounding our keep. Miraculously, it had escaped unharmed—though I couldn't say the same for the three men whose bodies lay inside. The lai she'one had beheaded them and left their bodies rotting on the ceiling. I dragged them outside, released them, and let them drift into the sky. That took care of the worst of the stench.

“I stayed there for a week, hiding out and waiting to be discovered. Using the Logrus, I snatched food and drink—along with books and anything else I needed for comfort—from nearby Shadows. I talked with Freda several times a day. The one time I reached Conner, he told me he didn't think he and Titus would be alive much longer… people in his uncle's household were giving them strange looks, growing silent when they entered rooms, or just refusing to talk to them or dine with them. He said they blamed Dad for the Shadow-storms. He didn't know what to do or where else to go.

“Of course, I offered to bring them both through to join me, but he wouldn't hear of it. Better dead than living like an animal, he told me scornfully.

“Every day I watched as new storms came through the Beyond, each a little less severe than the last. Fortunately none of these hit near me, and I waited them out in relative comfort and safety.

“Two weeks passed. The towering Shadow-storms had all but ceased, though tiny squalls continued. When I tried to reach Conner, I suddenly got no response. Freda told me she feared what might happen if she ever left her aunt's house. An angry mob had tried to drive her out the day before.

“That was the last time I talked to her. The next day, I couldn't reach her anymore. I assumed she had been killed or arrested, too, like Conner. I would probably be next.

“Another week passed. Loneliness finally got the better of me, I couldn't hide in the ruins for the rest of my life. I had to go out and see what had happened.

“Shapeshifting has never come easily to me, but I changed my features as best I could. Disguised as an old man, I returned to the Courts to see what I could learn.

“When I arrived, a strange mood hung over the streets—anxious, apprehensive, and most of all afraid. People in the streets and plazas stood in small knots, talking and looking around apprehensively. I half expected guards and soldiers to appear, dispersing the crowds, but none did.

“And, as I walked, I couldn't help but notice all the damage. Many buildings had collapsed from the force of the earthquakes and the storms. Giant stones—the kind normally found in the wildest parts of Chaos—nosed among the wreckage like grazing cattle. Women cried and men searched among the debris for loved ones.

“I wandered slowly through the Courts, pausing now and then as I caught interesting bits of conversation. Everyone seemed to be voicing the same thoughts:

“'Dworkin betrayed Chaos.'

“'How many more storms will Dworkin send to destroy us?'

“'Dworkin must be stopped.'

“As I got closer to the palace, I noticed a distinct change in the tone. Instead of 'How will the king stop Dworkin?' it became, 'The king can't protect us anymore. Someone else must!'

“At any other time, such words would have been treason. And to hear well-respected citizens openly saying such things in the streets! Incredible!

“When I got to the palace, I found the gates shut and barred. Grim-faced guards stood at all the entrances, swords out. I tried not to stare, but they were so preoccupied with watching the crowds that they wouldn't have noticed me anyway.

“Then I noticed two severed heads hanging from the spikes to either side of the gates… Mattus and Titus. Signs hung from both—BORN OF A TRAITOR. A coldness touched my heart. King Uthor must have executed them to try to appease the crowds. Only it hadn't worked. Everyone wanted Dad's blood. Nothing else would satisfy them at this point.

“And, I realized, if anyone caught me here, I would probably share their fate.

“At least no other grisly trophies decorated the gates. Perhaps Freda and all the others were still alive in one of the dungeons. I could only hope.

“With no place to go and no plan in mind except to stay alive as long as possible, I went to a small tavern I knew and settled in at a corner of the bar. As I sipped a beer, I listened with interest to all the gossip and talk of Uthor's failings around me. No one mentioned any family members other than Dad—and they mostly cursed his name.

“Then they began to speculate about what the king would—or wouldn't—do to protect Chaos. Several people openly said King Uthor ought to step down in favor of one of his sons.

“'He's too old,' one man said.