two mouths, one on each side of her face where a normal person's cheeks would have been.
“Who is she?” I asked. Despite the extra mouth, she had an almost grandmotherly quality. I could easily imagine liking her.
“Great Aunt Eddarg. She hears everything that goes on in the palace. If anyone in our family knows what happened to Aber, it is she.”
“How would she know?”
“She has been head chef at the palace for two hundred years.”
“Ah.” I'd always found that palace servants had all the best gossip. “Perhaps she has news of our other missing siblings as well.”
“I will ask.”
Freda raised the Trump, concentrated, and soon got a flickering, uncertain contact with her great aunt. After making sure they could both talk freely, Freda introduced me, then got down to swapping family news. I listened with interest.
“Have you heard anything about our brothers and sisters?” Freda asked. “The ones King Uthor arrested? We don't know if they're alive or dead.”
“There are but two of them here.”
“Who?”
“Syara, poor thing, and Pella.”
“What of Isadora?” I asked. “Or Leona?”
“I don't know where they are.”
Neither did we. It was a puzzle. What could have become of them? Hiding, somewhere?
“Is Pella well?” Freda said.
“Yes, dearie,” said Eddarg, smiling that horribly toothy smile. “Except for Mattus and Titus, whom the old king executed, all of the prisoners here are well, but thin. I feed them as often as I can. King Swayvil is taking good care of them.”
“Is Swayvil torturing them?” I asked.
“Goodness, no! Why should he? They are no threat to Chaos. Now, if he ever gets his hands on that lunatic father of yours, that would be another story!”
Freda sighed with relief. “And Uthor… he didn't harm them? They are whole?”
“Yes, yes—just thin, the poor dears.” She smiled with one mouth and bobbed her head, saying with the other mouth: “They are strong, yes, like their mothers.”
“Why hasn't Swayvil tortured them?” I wondering aloud.
“Goodness,” said Great Aunt Eddarg, “why should he torture them? It was King Uthor who hated your father, after all. He's the one who banished that idiot Dworkin and the rest of you poor innocent dearies. The new king is much kinder.” Her other mouth echoed: “Kinder, yes, much.”
“They also do not know anything of any real value,” Freda said to me. “Swayvil must know that. Why waste his time on them?”
“True,” I said.
Great Aunt Eddarg cackled a bit. “And the king is more than busy with his own enemies,” said one mouth. The other added: “All of King Uthor's immediate family—wives, children, grandchildren, down through a dozen generations, poor dearies—have been arrested.” And the other mouth continued, “Those who waive all claim to the throne and swear fealty to King Swayvil are allowed to live. Any who hesitate receive summary execution.”
“Let me guess,” I said. “Most are swearing fealty?”
The left mouth said, “Of course! Wouldn't you, knowing King Uthor is gone and you have no longer have any hope of ascending the throne?”
“Probably.” With King Uthor dead, few would dare stand openly against Swayvil.
“The good news,” said Great Aunt Eddarg's right mouth, “is that the
I nodded. “Good news, indeed.”
Freda said, “But he has not released any of our family, nor lifted the death sentences on us?”
“No, no,” said the right mouth. The left said, “Not yet. Except for your brother, of course.” And the first mouth added: “He is a dearie, but thin. We must get him fattened up.”
“Do you mean Aber?” I asked.
“Yes,” said both mouths at once. “A hero,” said one.
“How is he faring?” Freda asked.
“Haven't you heard?” said Great Aunt Eddarg. “He was adopted into House Swayvil two days ago.” Her second mouth added: “The king gave him a suite in the palace—though not in the king's own wing—and the dearie has been throwing lavish parties for his friends.” The first mouth continued: “He is quite partial to roast piqnar and keeps asking for it.” The second mouth added: “Expensive tastes, but King Swayvil does not seem to mind. They dine together now and again.”
“Then he is doing well,” Freda asked. She shot me an uncertain glance—not sure whether to be happy or dismayed, I guessed. That was my own reaction.
“Thriving, from the sounds of it,” I said. For once, Aber seemed to have everything he'd ever wanted: security, a place in a powerful family, and freedom from our father's influence.
“Has he asked King Swayvil to free Pella and Syara?” I asked casually.
“I do not know, dearie. I am not privy to their discussions. Now, I must get dinner ready,” said Great Aunt Eddarg. “There is another banquet tonight.” Her other mouth added: “Talk to me again soon, dearies?”
“I will,” Freda promised with a smile. “I will let you know whenever we have news. And you must do the same.”
“Of course, dearie!”
Freda covered the Trump with her hand, and we were alone. We stared at each other for a heartbeat. Aber had certainly landed on his feet.
“We must,” Freda said, “find a way to use Aber to our advantage.
“The best way to deal with a serpent,” I said unhappily, “is to cut off its head.”
Chapter 31
Over the next week, events seemed to hit a strange lull. With the newly crowned King Swayvil concentrating on hunting down the last of King Uthor's followers, no one in Chaos seemed to be paying the slightest bit of attention to us. It was as if Dad, the Shadows, and Amber had suddenly ceased to be important. Perhaps Uthor had been right in his estimation: Swayvil had used us solely as a distraction. Now that he held the throne, he would spend his days consolidating his base of power.
Which was entirely fine by me: while he worked on strengthening his hold on the Courts of Chaos, I would consolidate my own power in Amber.
“King Oberon” still had a very nice ring to it, and I meant to hang on to my title, my crown, and most of all my life.
Weeks passed, a constant blur of non-stop action. I spent exhausting and exhilarating days in the field, reviewing troops or recruiting new ones with Conner… fascinating days visiting nearby Shadows and buying or bartering with the native populations for food, supplies, and most important of all, settlers… but most especially glorious days exploring our new world of Amber.
I sailed with our fledgling navy as it explored the coastline… rode with the cavalry as it mapped the hills and valleys… marched with the infantry as they cut roads through the forests and began the lengthy task of setting up watchtowers along our soon-to-be-city's flanks.
When I returned to Amber one evening, I found an unhappy reception committee waiting: my father, Freda, and Conner, all looking angry.
