“More supposition,” I said, finishing my omelet. “But not

uninteresting. Please continue.”

“Your father had second thoughts about the throne, however. Still, he was Amber's champion. Amber did win the war. The Pattern was repaired. The balance was restored. Random was the second choice as monarcha good maintainer of the status quo-and that choice was made by the Unicorn, not by the Amberites following any of their versions of the Rules of Succession.”

“I never looked at it all that way,” I said.

“And your father-inadvertently, I believe-provided a bonus. Afraid that the Pattern had not been repaired, he drew another. Only, it had been repaired. Thus, there were two artifacts of order, rather than one. Though, as a separate entity; it probably did not add to the Pattern's strength, it added to order, as such, diminishing the effects of the Logrus. So your father set the balance right, then proceeded to tip it again-in the other direction.”

“This is your conclusion from the investigations you and Fiona made of the new Pattern?”

He nodded slowly, took a sip of juice.

“Hence, more Shadow storms than usual, as a mundane effect,” he said, “bringing us up to present times.” “Yes, present times,” I said, pouring more coffee.

“We've noted they've grown interesting.”

“Indeed. Your story of the girl Coral, asking the Pattern to send her to an appropriate place, is a case in point. What did it immediately do? It sent her to a Shadow Pattern and turned out the lights. Then it sent you to rescue her, repairing that edition of itself in the process. Once it was repaired it was no longer a Shadow Pattern, but another version of itself that it was then able to absorb. It probably absorbed that entire shadow as well, adding considerably to its own energies. Its edge over the Logrus increased even more. The Logrus would need a big gain to restore the balance after that. So it risked an incursion into the Pattern's domain, in a desperate effort to obtain the Eye of Chaos. That ended in a stalemate, though, because of the intervention of that bizarre entity you call Ghostwheel. So the balance remains tipped in the Pattern's favor, an unhealthy state of affairs.”

“For the Logrus.”

“For everybody, I'd say. The Powers will be at odds, the shadows in turmoil and disorder in both realms till things have been righted.”

“So something should be done to benefit the Logrus .

“You already know that.”

“I suppose I do.”

“It communicated with you directly, didn't it?”

I recalled my night in the chapel in the place between shadows, where I had been faced with a choice between the Serpent and the Unicorn, the Logrus and the Pattern. Resenting the bullying in such a forced format, I had refused to choose either.

“Yes, it did,” I answered.

“It wanted you for its champion, didn't it?”

“I suppose it did,” I said.

“And..?”

“...And here we are,” I replied.

“Did it indicate anything that might support my thesis?”

I thought about that trek through the Undershadow, mixing menace with ghosts-Pattern, Logrus, or both. “I suppose it did,” I repeated.

But, ultimately, it had bin the Pattern I had served at the end of that journey, albeit unwittingly.

“You are prepared to execute its design for the good of the Courts?”

“I'm prepared to seek resolution of this matter, For everybody's peace of mind.”

He smiled.

“Is that a qualification or an agreement?”

“It's a statement of intent,” I said.

“If the Logrus has chosen you, it has its reasons.”

“I daresay.”

“It almost goes without saying that having you on the throne would strengthen the House of Sawall immensely.”

“The thought had occurred to me, now you mention it.

“For one with your background, of course, it would become necessary to determine where your ultimate loyalty lies-with Amber or with the Courts.”

“Do you foresee another war?”

“No, of course not. But anything you do to strengthen the Logrus will arouse the Pattern and provoke some response from Amber. Hardly to the point of war, but possibly to that of retaliation.”

“Could you be more specific as to what you have in mind?”

“I'm only dealing in generalities at the moment, to give you opportunity to assess your reactions.”

I nodded.

“Since we're talking generalities I'll just repeat my statement: I'm prepared to seek a resolution—”

“All right,” he said. “We understand each other to this extent. In the event you make it to the throne, you want the same thing we do—”

“ `We'?” I interrupted.

“The House of Sawall, of course. -But you don't want anyone dictating specifics to you.”

“That says it nicely,” I replied.

“But of course we're speaking hypothetically, there being a couple of others about with stronger claims.”

“So why argue contingencies?”

“If the House were able to see you crowned, however, do you acknowledge you would owe consideration for this?”

“Brother,” I said, “you are the House, for all major purposes. If you're asking for a commitment before taking out Tmer and Tubble, forget it, I'm not all that eager to sit on a throne.”

“Your wishes are not paramount in this,” he said. “There is no reason for squeamishness when you consider that we've long been at odds with Jesby, and Chanicut's always been a troublemaker.”

“Squeamishness has nothing to do with it,” I said. “I never said I wanted the throne. And, frankly, I think either Tmer or Tubble would probably do a better job.”

“They are not designates of the Logrus.”

“And if I am, I should make it without any help.”

“Brother, there is a big gap between its world of principles and ours of flesh, stone, and steel.”

“And supposing I have my own agenda and it does not include your plan?”

“What is it, then?”

“We're speaking hypothetically, remember?”

“Merlin, you're being obstinate. You've a duty in this, to the House as well as to the Courts and the Logrus.”

“I can assess my own duties, Mandor, and I haveso far.”

“If you've a plan to set things right, and it's a good one, we'll help you to effectuate it. What have you in mind?”

“I do not require help at this point,” I said, “but I'll remember that.”

“What do you require right now?”

“Information,” I said.

“Ask me. I have a lot.”

“All right. What can you tell me about my mother's maternal side, the House of Hendrake?”

He pursed his lips.

“They're into soldiering, professionally,” he said.

“You know they're always off fighting in Shadow wars. They love it. Belissa Minobee's been in charge since General Larsus's death. Hm.” He paused. Then, “Do you ask because of their rather odd fixation involving Amber?”

“Amber?” I said. “What do you mean?”

“I recall a social visit to the Ways of Hendrake one time,” he said, “when I wandered into a small, chapellike room. In a niche in one wall there hung a portrait of General Benedict, in full battle regalia. There was an altarlike shelf below it bearing several weapons, and upon which a number of candles were burning. Your mother's picture was there, too.”

“Really?” I said. “I wonder whether Benedict knows? Dara once told my father she was descended from Benedict. Later, he figured this an out-and-out lie... Do you think people like that would hold a grudge against my father?”

“For what?”

“Corwin slew Borel of Hendrake at the time of the Patternfall War.”

“They tend to take such things philosophically.”

“Still, I gather it was a somewhat less than kosher engagement from the way he described it-though I don't believe there were any witnesses.”

“So let sleeping wyverns lie.”

“I've no intention of rousing them. But what I was wondering was that if they had somehow heard details they might have been out to clear some debt of honor on his behalf. Do you think they could have been behind his disappearance?”