“Thanks, but no.” I shook my head. I knew without doubt that the Logrus wouldn't work for me. “I think Dad told the truth when he said the Logrus would kill me if I tried to enter it. I'm not willing to risk it.”

“I could speak with the keeper on your behalf. Maybe he has a different test. If he thinks you can safely enter the Logrus, why not try it? After all, you said Dad lied to you about everything. Maybe he lied to you about the Logrus, too.”

“I'm not ready to try it.”

He shrugged. “It was just an idea.”

“Don't get me wrong, I appreciate it. I'm just not ready to risk my life yet.”

“Fair enough.” Wiping his mouth on a napkin, he pushed his plate to the side. A serving girl whisked it away. “You look better. Are you up for a trip outside?”

“You mean here? Or a visit to King Uthor's court?”

“Here. We'll take it slowly. What do you say?”

I hesitated. Something made me want to say “No,” but I finally nodded.

“I'll give it a try.”

After all, I couldn't hide indoors for the rest of my life. If Chaos was to be my new home, I'd have to get over my fears. How bad could it be?

He gave a nod. “Good.”

I finished my own meal in a few bites, but Aber seemed in no hurry to leave. I sat back, and all the questions in the back of my mind began to pour out. I actually felt sorry for my brother as I began to grill him about the house (five floors, 186 rooms at last count—though apparently it fluctuated according to the season), what had happened those three days I'd been unconscious (not much—our father had gone out periodically to meet with friends and allies, returning only to check on me and grab a few hours of sleep), and the nature of Chaos (which seemed even more confusing the longer he talked about it).

“Maybe we should pay King Uthor a visit…” I suggested, as my questions ran out.

“He would never grant the likes of us an audience.”

“You never know. And even if we don't get to see him, we might learn something… like where Dad's being held.”

He looked surprised. “Do you think he's been arrested?”

“I don't know. We ought to find out, though. Even if he hasn't been arrested, he might be in danger. I don't think he'd abandon us here willingly.”

“King Uthor might arrest us if we go poking around.”

“Why? We don't know anything, nor have we done anything wrong.” Suddenly I grinned. “Or have you been holding out on me? Are you and Dad involved in a conspiracy against the crown?”

He pulled a sour face. “You know better than that.”

“I didn't think so. But it would have made things simpler. I could turn you both in, claim my reward, and take over the family lands and titles.”

“Spoken,” Aber said bitterly, “like a true member of our family. Unfortunately, it's never going to happen. Dad knows better than to trust me with a conspiracy. I'd end up spilling the whole plan to the first person who asked.” He shook his head. “I've never been terribly good at keeping secrets. That's more Freda's department.”

“Freda? I would have guessed Blaise…”

“Blaise likes to brag too much to keep secrets well. Freda, though…”

“What about her?”

“She used to help Dad with his experiments. She'd never say what they were doing together. It drove Locke and Blaise crazy!” He chuckled, eyes distant, as he remembered happier times. “They both thought they were missing out on something grand. But no matter how much they begged, Dad wouldn't let them into his workshop.”

I smiled at my mental image of a frustrated Locke and Blaise. They, along with Freda, had been locked in a struggle for top position in our family. All three of them thought much too highly of themselves, as far as I was concerned.

“And you loved it,” I said.

“Yes!” He laughed. “You would have, too, I think.”

“Oh, I know I would have.”

He cleared his throat. “Getting back to the problem at hand… Even if we knew what illicit activities Dad was involved in, I don't think turning him in would help us at this point. Our enemies want us dead… dead to the last member of our family.”

“True,” I admitted. “But we're not really in a position of strength now. With strong allies, we might be.”

“Well,” Aber said after a thoughtful pause, “if I wanted to ally myself with someone strong, I'd start with King Uthor.”

“You're assuming he's not behind the attacks.”

“Do you think he might be?” he asked in surprise.

I shrugged. “I don't know enough to decide one way or another. I can only say the hell-creatures—”

“Lai she'on,” he said.

“—who searched our house looked a lot like the ones guarding Taine in my vision. And they looked like the hell-creatures who invaded Juniper and Ilerium.”

He gave a dismissive wave of his arm. “All the lai she'on look much the same. They are bred for it.”

“We aren't talking about facts, we're talking about possibilities. Just take it for granted that King Uthor is behind the attacks on our family for a minute. Where does that leave us?”

“If that's true,” he said, “we're really screwed. King Uthor is the most powerful man anywhere. If he's our enemy, we might as well line up and let him slit our throats.”

“Don't be fatalistic.”

“Easy for you to say. You don't know what you're talking about. Or what we would be up against. On the other hand, I don't believe he's behind the attacks.”

“No? Why not?”

“Because he wouldn't need to be sneaky about them. He could simply proclaim us enemies and order our deaths. Chaos is more than a place… it is a power. Unleashed it in its primal form, it can devour whole worlds.”

I shrugged; it sounded like an exaggeration to me, but I had no way to judge. “All right. Let's consider the other possibility… what if it isn't King Uthor behind the attacks?”

“Then he'd have every reason to protect us. We are, after all, loyal subjects.”

“Exactly! Now, what if—by not firming up our alliance with him—we miss the chance to save our family and ourselves?”

“You argue too well,” Aber complained. “You almost make it sound possible.”

“It is possible.”

He sighed. “King Uthor would take one look at me and either burst out laughing or eat me alive. He doesn't need allies… allies need him.”

“You never know until you try.”

“I think we're better off staying away from court.”

“Any particular reason?”

“No… it's just a feeling I have.”

“King Uthor has no cause to arrest us,” I pointed out. “Neither you nor I have done nothing wrong. And we have a good reason for going—to look for our father. Who can argue with that?”

“I can,” he said. “Think about it. What if the attacks have all been part of a blood feud? In which case, he'd have every right to kill us out of hand just for showing up and annoying him.”

I mulled that over. “It can't be so easy for him to kill people. Kings don't slaughter nobility. They wouldn't be kings very long if they did.”

He shifted uneasily. “Well, no. Technically, he'd have to follow court etiquette. You'd be insulted, then challenged to a duel by one of his champions.”

“And killed?”

“How good are you with a trisp?”

“A what?”

He chuckled. “I thought so. It's a traditional weapon, kind of like a cat's claw, but larger, and its blades extend. You attack with a trisp and defend with a fandon—which, I assume, you've also never used?”

“A fandon? No, I've never seen or heard of it.”

“You haven't missed much. Except for tradition, I think everyone would have abandoned them centuries ago in favor of swords.”

“So I'd be killed with a trisp?”

“Sliced to bits.” He chuckled grimly. “Me too, for that matter. I can never keep my fandon up properly. The way the stones move—”

“Wait!” I said. “Stones? That move?”

“Right. You stand on them. They float, but they respond to subtle movements of your feet. Up, down, left, right—you keep your stone moving and keep your opponent off balance.”