The Chronicles of Amber

“'He cares more for his palaces than his people,' said another, nodding.

“Everyone echoed those sentiments. Then talk turned to how Dad ought to be killed when he finally got caught. Slowly grinding him to mincemeat, starting with his toes, seemed the most creative solution.

“Finishing my drink, I left, and once more wandered the streets. If anything, the crowds had grown larger, and the mood had grown darker. A new storm seemed to be coming: the air had grown darker, and a strange pressure filled the air, just like it had back home in the Beyond. You could feel the people's tension mounting.

“Finally, the lai she'one appeared. They marched toward the largest groups of people, shouting: 'Clear the streets! By the king's order—clear the streets now! Back to your homes or you will be arrested!'

“No one dared protest, but many men gave them angry looks, and I noticed a few fingering their swords or knives. If any had dared start trouble, I think the crowds would have rioted.

“But everyone began to disperse. In twenty minutes, the streets grew relatively empty—the few people still out moving with purpose on personal errands.

“I turned away from the others and took shelter in the ruins of a once grand home. I found a corner where two corner walls and part of the second floor still stood and took shelter just as the storm struck.

“It wasn't nearly as bad as any of the storms I had seen in the Beyond. The walls and ground shook; colors ran into puddles at my feet, and lights played weird tricks on my eyes—glowing and pulsing, they came in waves that left me disoriented and confused.

“When stones fell from the crumbling walls, I crawled under a table. That kept me safe for the next hour.

“The storm passed quickly. By the time I felt well enough to crawl out from the wreckage of the house, criers wandered the streets, shouting the latest news and proclamations—fifteen thousand dead, the hunt for Dad going on, another son of Dworkin captured. I wondered who it could be.

“In Triffig Square, an angry mob burned Dad in effigy. I had never seen so many people out for blood. Our blood.

“I spent another week in the Courts, carefully keeping up my disguise. I listened to the news and kept to myself. Several times people tried to contact me by Trump, but I ignored them. With so many sets of Trumps now in King Uthor's hands, I could not trust anyone.

“Subtly, I made enquiries of old friends, feeling them out for their loyalties. They had all turned against us. I had no one to fall back on for help. At night, I tried several times to contact family members… you, Blaise, Freda, Conner. I even tried Dad a few times. I knew Dad was still free, from all the rumors circulating about him putting together an army to attack Chaos. But he never answered.

“Unfortunately, the stress of keeping up my disguise proved too great. My control over my new face slipped one day as I was walking through the streets by the palace—I tried to go every day, to see if any more family members had been executed. When my old face returned, someone must have recognized me. The next thing I knew, lai she'one were running toward me, packs of urhounds baying as they picked up my scent, and I had nowhere to hide.

“I fled into the wilder Shadows of Chaos. I used every trick I could think of to hide my trail. I crossed the Beyond, then passed through the Gates of Stygia and into Ellysiom. I rode the back of a wild stone through the Mad Lands, and passed through Lyric's Furnace. The heat seared me half to death, and still they followed.

“If not for the urhounds, I probably would have escaped. But they had my scent and wouldn't let go. No matter how far or how fast I fled, their baying voices came behind me.

“I crossed the Golgul Wastes on foot, doubling back several times through the Lesser Catacombs, but nothing worked. I gained a few hours' lead skirting the Abyss, but no more. Finally they cornered me at Draak-Bal Forge.

“That's when I began trying every Trump I had left. Finally I reached you, Oberon. Lucky for me.

“And that's the whole story,” Aber finished. “Not very impressive, I admit, but thanks to you, I escaped Uthor's grasp, which has to count for something. No thanks to Blaise.” He gave her a dark look.

“It wasn't safe where I was, either,” she said. “If not for Oberon…”

I cleared my throat and motioned for more drinks from Jamas. He refilled our tankards silently. He had been listening to Aber's story with a bewildered expression, but like any good barkeep, he knew when to keep his mouth shut. I nodded to myself in silent approval. Perhaps he and his son could be persuaded to relocate to my future Shadow kingdom once we began recruiting settlers.

I turned to Blaise. “Did anyone try to contact you by Trump while you were with your aunt and uncle?”

“Yes, nearly every day.” She shrugged. “I ignored them. I didn't feel like talking to anyone. Much good that it did—the lai she'one came for me anyway. Why? Is it important?”

I paused thoughtfully. “I think so. Uthor must have been using Trumps to find everyone in our family. Had you answered, he probably would have located you sooner. That must be how they captured everyone else.”

The sound of horses' hooves came from outside. I glanced at Jamas, endlessly polishing the far end of the bar with a rag as he listened to our gossip.

“Your son?” I asked.

“Ayeh,” he said with a smile. “Back with Doc Hand, I'll wager. He'll fix your Da up, right enough.”

A loud crash came from somewhere upstairs. Aber and I exchanged a startled glance.

“Dad!” we both said.

I leaped to my feet and sprinted up the stairs with my brother at my heels.

Chapter 10

Drawing my sword, I came through the bedroom doorway poised for a fight. I found Dad next to the bed, looking around with wild eyes. He had knocked over the washstand—that's what had made the crashing sound. Its blue basin had shattered on the floorboards, scattering broken pottery and dirty water across the floor.

Aber drew up behind me.

“Dad?” I said. “How are you feeling?”

I stepped forward cautiously, lowering my sword. He hadn't summoned a weapon through the Logrus, which I took as a good sign.

“Where is he?” Dad said in a hard voice.

“Who?”

“Thellops, my boy! We were just arguing—”

“He's not here,” I said quickly. “You've been sick. Unconscious for hours.”

“Hours? No!” He sat heavily on the edge of the bed, shaking his head. “What did he do to me? How long has it been?”

“I'm not sure.” I hesitated. He seemed a lot better, and yet… subtly different. I couldn't quite put my finger on what had changed. “I found you unconscious at the Pattern a few hours ago, Dad, and brought you here.”

“Where is this place?”

“Just an inn in a Shadow.”

“Time moves differently there… we may still have time.” He stood again, looking around with some confusion. “You must come back with me, of course. And Aber, too…” He frowned, eyes distant. “And Locke. Where is he? I need him.”

“Locke is dead,” I said softly. He had to be very confused, if he'd forgotten his first-born son's death in Juniper.

“Was it Thellops?” He paused. “No… no…”

“That was a long time ago,” I said quickly. Better to steer him back to the subject at hand. “What about Thellops? Has he done something? Is it important?”

“Yes. Thellops.” He looked at me, and I saw a raw anger in his eyes. “The three of us together should be enough.”

“For what?” Aber asked.