“She always cared more about you than me, and now you're going to have the throne.”
“Don't be ridiculous. I don't want it.”
“Your desires have nothing to do with the matter.”
“I won't have it:”
“Yes, you will-unless I kill you first.”
“Don't be stupid. It's not worth this.”
“One day soon, when you least expect it, you will turn and see me. It will be too late.”
The mirror grew entirely black.
“Jurt!”
Nothing. Aggravating, having to put up with him in dream as well as waking.
I turned my head toward a fire-framed minor several paces ahead and to my left, knowing-somehow-it was next on my route. I moved toward it.
She was smiling.
“And there you have it,” she said.
“Aunty, what's going on?”
“It seems to be the sort of conflict generally referred to as `irreducible,' “ Fiona replied.
“That's not the sort of answer I need.”
“Too much is afoot to give you a better one.”
“And you're a part of it?”
“A very small one. Not one who can do you much good just now.”
“What am I to do?”
“Learn your options and choose the best one.”
“Best for whom? Best for what?”
“Only you can say.”
“Can you give me a hint?”
“Could you have walked Corwin's Pattern that day I took you to it?”
“Yes.”
“I thought so. It was drawn under unusual circumstances. It can never be duplicated. Our Pattern would never have permitted its construction had it not been damaged itself and too weak to prevent its coming into being.”
“So?”
“Our Pattern is trying to absorb it, incorporate it. If it succeeds, it will be as disastrous as it would have been were the Pattern of Amber destroyed at the time of the war. The balance with Chaos will be totally upset.”
“Isn't Chaos strong enough to prevent this? I'd thought they were equally potent.”
“They were until you repaired the Shadow Pattern and Amber's was able to absorb it. This increased its strength beyond that of Chaos. Now it is able to reach for your father's against the power of the Logrus.”
“I don't understand what is to be done.”
“Neither do I, yet. But I charge you to remember what I have said. When the time comes you must make a decision. I've no idea what it will involve, but it will be very important.”
“She's right,” came a voice from behind my back. Turning, I saw my father within a shining black frame, a silver rose set at its top.
“Corwin!” I heard Fiona say. “Where are you?”
“In a place where there is no light,” he said.
“I thought you somehow in Amber, Father, with Deirdre,” I said.
“The ghosts play at being ghosts,” he answered. “I have not much time, for my strength is low. I can tell you only this: Trust not the Pattern, nor the Logrus either, nor any of their spawn, till this matter be settled:”
He began to fade.
“How can I help you?” I asked.
The words “...in the Courts” came to me before he vanished.
I turned again.
“Fi, what did he mean by that?” I asked her.
She was frowning.
“I get the impression that the answer lies somewhere in the Courts,” she replied slowly.
“Where? Where should I look?”
She shook her head and began to turn away.
“Who would know best?” she said.
Then she, too, was gone.
Voices were still calling to me, from behind, from ahead. There was weeping and laughter, and my name being repeated. I rushed ahead.
“Whatever happens,” Bill Roth said, “if you need a good lawyer, I'll handle it-even in Chaos.”
And then there was Dworkin, squinting at me from out of a tiny mirror with a twisted frame.
“Nothing to be alarmed about,” he remarked, “but all sorts of imponderables are hovering about you.”
“What am I to do?” I cried.
“You must become something greater than yourself.”
“I don't understand.”
“Escape the cage that is your life.”
“What cage?”
He was gone.
I ran, and their words rang around me.
Near the end of the hall was a mirror like a piece of yellow silk stretched upon a frame. The Cheshire Cat grinned at me from within.
“It's not worth it. The hell with them all,” he said. “Come to the cabaret,
old chum. We'll tip a few brews and watch the man paint.”
“Nor” I cried. “No!”
And then there was only a grin. This time I faded, too. Merciful, black oblivion and the sound of the wind, somewhere, passing.
III
How long I slept, I do not know. I was awakened by Suhuy's repeating my name.
“Merlin, Merlin,” he said. “The sky is white.” “And I've a busy day,” I answered. “I know. I'd a busy night, too.”
“It reached you, then.”
“What?”
“A small spell I sent, to open your mind to some enlightenment. I hoped to lead you to answers from within, rather than burden you with my guesswork and suspicions.”
“I was back in the Corridor of Mirrors.”
“I knew not what form it might take.”
“Was it real?”
“As such things go, it should have been.”
“Well, thanks-I guess. It reminds me that Gryll said something about your wanting to see me before my mother did.”
“I wanted to see how much you knew before you faced her. I wanted to protect your freedom of choice.”
“What are you saying?”
“I'm sure she wants to see you on the throne.” I sat up and rubbed my eyes.
“I suppose that's possible,” I said
“I don't know how far she's willing to go to effect this. I wanted to give you a chance to know your own mind before you're exposed to her plans: Would you care for a cup of tea?”
“Yes, thanks.”
I accepted a mug he proffered and raised it to my lips. “What are you saying about her beyond a guess at her wishes?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“I don't know how active her program might be,” he said, “if that is what you mean. And whether she was connected with it or another, the spell you came wearing has faded now.”
“Your doing?”
He nodded.
I took another swallow.
“I never realized how close I'd gotten to the head of the line,” I added. “Jurt is number four or five in the succession, isn't he?”
He nodded.
“I've a feeling it's going to be a very busy day,” I said.
“Finish your tea,” he told me, “and follow me when you would.”
He walked away through a dragon tapestry on the far wall.
As I raised the mug again, the bright bracelet on my left wrist came free and drifted before me, losing its braided outline, becoming a circle of pure light. It hovered above the steaming brew, as if enjoying its cinnamony aroma.
“Hi, Ghost,” I said. “Why'd you weave yourself about my wrist that way?”
“To look like that piece of rope you usually wear,” came the reply. “I thought you must be fond of the effect.”
“I mean, what were you up to the whole time?” “Just listening, Dad. Seeing how I might be of help. These people are all your relatives, too?”
“The ones we've met so far, yes.”
“Is it necessary to go back to Amber to speak ill of them?”
“No, it works here in the Courts, too.” I took another sip of tea. “Any special ill you have in mind? Or was that a general question?”
“I don't trust your mother or your brother Mandor, even if they are my grandmother and uncle. I think they're setting you up for something.”
“Mandor's always been good to me.”
“.. And your uncle Suhuy-he seems eminently stable, but he reminds me a lot of Dworkin. Might he be sitting on all sorts of internal turmoils and ready to flip out anytime?”
“I hope not,” I said. “He never has.”
“Oh-oh, it's been building, and this is a time of stress.”
“Where are you getting all this pop psychology, anyway?'
“I've been studying the great psychologists of the Shadow Earth. It's part of my ongoing attempt to understand the human condition. I realized it was time I learned more about the irrational parts.”