“What's wrong?” I asked.

“What have you done with him?” Freda said.

“I am close to a cure!” Dad said. “Another week, and he would have been free from Suhuy's poison!”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded, looking from one to another. Had they lost all reason?

Sharply, Conner said, “Do you deny releasing Fenn?”

“What—you mean he's gone?” I looked uncomprehendingly from one to another. “I've been at sea all day! When could I possibly have released him?”

Dad let out his breath. “I see Suhuy's hand in this,” he muttered. “Another imposter!”

“What! And nobody thought to question him?” I demanded.

“You… he… was in a foul mood,” Freda said. “He rode in alone, went straight to Fenn's cell, and ordered the guards to tie Fenn up. Which they did. Then he dragged Fenn out, ordered fresh horses, threw Fenn across the saddle, and left. Dad and I were here, but it happened so fast… he was gone before we knew it.”

I shook my head. “This must stop. Now. Every time someone returns from a trip, one of us must be in the courtyard to greet him. We will have a password system.”

“What do you mean?” Freda asked.

“Each time one of us comes home, someone else will say a word or ask a question. The proper response must be given to establish a true identity.”

Conner frowned. “When you came home, I would say, 'fish' and then you would say, 'cakes'? Something like that?”

“Something a little more subtle.” I frowned. “The first person will say, 'How was the weather?' and the correct reply will be, 'Fire and hail.' That way, if another imposter shows up and gives the wrong answer, he won't know he's been discovered.”

“Agreed,” Conner said quickly.

“Now, why did Suhuy want Fenn back?” I mused. “We discovered his true identity. Suhuy must know that trick won't work again.”

“A better question,” Dad said, “is—who was impersonating you?”

A month passed since Aber had betrayed King Uthor and me. Freda continued to check with her aunts nearly every day for updates on the political situation in the Courts of Chaos. Sometimes we got word of a friend or family member who had sworn fealty to King Swayvil; more often, however, we got lists of the executed as Swayvil's bloody purges continued.

Always we looked for word of missing family members, but since Uthor's death, not one had been publicly executed. Of course, they could be undergoing torture in Swayvil's dungeons… or, as Conner had been, simply left to rot in a cell. We had no way of knowing. Perhaps, I sometimes thought, the new King of Chaos meant to save them for bargaining chips when he finally moved against us.

Several weeks into the new king's rule, King Uthor's brother Irtar tried to seize the throne. Backed by half a dozen powerful Lords of Chaos, his assassination attempt nearly succeeded. But Suhuy's timely intervention, according to Great Aunt Eddarg, saved the day.

After that, Swayvil rushed many of Uthor's former supporters to trial. Some days as many as two dozen Lords of Chaos met the axe in public ceremonies… all to the cheering of the bloodthirsty residents of Chaos. After Irtar's death, Swayvil declared a holiday and gave out refreshments and favors at the palace gates to all who called.

Of course, I recognized none of the names of the dead, though Freda wept several times when men and women she knew fell to Swayvil's purge. I could do little to comfort her.

She spent days working on Castle Amber, organizing the staff, decorating the halls and rooms, supervising all the little niceties that finished off the castle properly. And Amber slowly became a home to us all.

Early one morning I took a stroll along the castle's upper battlements, gazing out across the fields and rolling hills that had begun to sprout the beginnings of a town. It was a gloriously beautiful day, the air tasted crisp and fresh, and I felt well-rested and strong. Below me, the castle guard had turned out for morning drills, and with a wistful little smile I listened to the officers' orders and the beginnings of swordplay. I missed dawn roll-calls and early morning workouts.

Then I felt a light mental contact. Someone was trying to reach me through a Trump… probably Conner, who had gone off to explore the southern marshlands with several squads of infantryman. He had instructions to call me if anything went wrong.

When I opened my thoughts, though, I found myself staring at a wavering, uncertain image of Aber. He sat high on a pile of luxurious-looking cushions, and he looked well oiled and well fed.

He had nerve. My rage started to bubble toward the surface, but I held it in check.

“What is it?” I said coldly. He must have something important to say, after all he had done.

“Hi, Oberon.”

He smiled with his usual cheerfulness, as though nothing had happened between us. Didn't he realize how much his betrayal had wounded me?

Slowly I dropped one hand to the knife at my belt. It had a good balance, perfect for throwing. I palmed it as subtly as I could. Would it strike him through the Trump if I threw it while we were talking? Somehow, I thought so.

“What do you want?” I said.

“I miss everyone,” he said. He frowned a bit. “How would you feel about returning to the Courts on an official state visit, as ruler of Amber? Freda too, of course. And Conner if he wants.”

“You must be joking,” I said. I couldn't believe he'd just asked me to return to Chaos.

He grinned. “Okay. You don't have to bring Conner if you don't want to.”

“Swayvil would kill us all.”

He actually laughed. “Nonsense. I hate to be insulting, but you have an exaggerated opinion of your own importance. The king simply doesn't care about you, Dad, or Amber right now—he has bigger problems.”

“I can imagine,” I said. “The body count seems to be rising quite fast, from what I hear.”

“Ah? Freda's keeping tabs on us, I guess.”

“Yes.”

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I'm something of a golden boy right now, you know… after all, I single- handedly ended the civil war and probably saved tens of thousands of lives. That makes me quite the hero in certain circles.”

“Uh-huh. You're a hero.” I let a note of disdain creep into my voice. “Congratulations.”

“So, I asked the king if you could all visit, and he agreed. He personally guarantees your safety. When can you come?”

“You're insane,” I said. He had to be out of his mind if he thought we would blindly walk into the Courts of Chaos again. “After all that's happened, you expect us to simply show up for dinner, never mind that Swayvil has been killing off our family for years?”

“Well, yes. And it would be more than just dinner—it would be an official state visit. You'll all be quite safe, of course.”

“I'd sooner slit my own throat than let Swayvil do it for me. Or you, for that matter.”

“How can you say that!” He actually looked hurt. And he managed it with such sincerity, I almost believed him. He had certainly missed his true calling—the stage.

I tightened my grip on the knife. “I don't take betrayal well, Aber. You can't talk your way out of it.”

“You ought to be thanking me.” He folded his arms stubbornly. “I did you a huge favor.”

“Murdering King Uthor? If Swayvil hadn't attacked when he did…”

“It was carefully timed,” he said smugly.

“You left us there to die!”

“Not at all. I had every faith in you. You're a survivor, after all. You'll just have to trust me this time—you were never in any real danger.”

I shook my head. He made it sound almost plausible… only I knew the truth. He'd been looking out for himself, without a moment's thought for the rest of us.

Trust him? Never again.

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