Chaos and Amber tdoa-2

by John Gregory Betancourt

  “Apparently King Uthor's been trying to get it back ever since it disappeared, but quietly. Searching, trying to find out who took it, and what caused the Shadows to appear.”

  “If he's as powerful as you say, why can't he grab another one from a different Shadow? There must be plenty of rubies out there.”

  “Sure, but not like this one. Apparently it's got magical properties. At least, that's what they said.”

  “Oh?” That piqued my interest. Maybe I could find out more about it. “What does it do?”

  “I'm not sure. But if Dad has it, you can bet he's been experimenting with it. That's probably what attracted King Uthor's attention. The king is… part of the Logrus, in ways I don't really understand. They're connected… a part of each other. And if the Jewel is connected to the Logrus too, then Dad's playing with it may have brought him under the King Uthor's scrutiny.”

  I nodded. It sounded like a plausible explanation.

  “And how did you find us?” I asked.

  “You're not hard to track. If one knows how.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I used your Trump.”

  I frowned. “I didn't sense anything…”

  “There are other ways to use them. I've been around you more than anyone lately, we're blood relatives, and I drew the Trump, so perhaps I'm more attuned to you than most. By concentrating very lightly on your card, I can tell where you are… sometimes even look out through your eyes.”

  I shivered, not liking the sound of that. I'd have to practice keeping my mental defenses up. And it might mean using the Pattern to shield myself from any Logrus-spying.

  “So… you're saying you looked through my eyes and drew a Trump of this clearing?”

  “That's right.” He pulled it out and showed me.

  I took it and threw it into the fire.

  “Hey!” he said.

  “This is a special place for Dad and me. We used to go camping here when I was a boy. Dad won't be happy that you're here. And he'll be furious if he discovers you made a Trump to get here.”

  “Then we won't tell him.” He shrugged.

  “I'm not going to lie,” I said.

  He sighed. “Well, tell him whatever you want. I don't care.” He rose and, using the Logrus, summoned a couple of blankets for himself, which he spread out on the ground next to mine.

  I heard a crashing noise, as someone came through the forest towards our camp.

  “Is that Dad?” Aber asked me.

  “Probably.”

  A moment later Dworkin emerged from the bushes. When he spotted Aber and me sitting up by the fire, he frowned. He must have imagined he could quietly slip back into camp unnoticed.

  “Hi, Dad,” Aber said.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. “Why aren't you home?”

  “It got a little unpleasant there, what with the searches and all the torturing King Uthor has ordered.”

  “Where have you been?” I asked Dad.

  “Oh, here and there. Many people to see, many things to do.”

  “I saw you with her,” I said to our father. “Tell me the truth.”

  “Answers will come in time. You are not ready for them.”

  “You're wrong.”

  Dworkin shrugged. “I have been wrong before.”

  “I need those answers!” I snapped. “I'm not a child anymore, and this isn't a game! All our lives are in danger! You say you need my help. Well, I'm not going another step with you until I get answers. And it better be the truth this time.”

  “Would I lie to you?” he asked.

  “Yes!” He had lied to me constantly since he had swept back into my life.

  He sighed. “Very well. Ask your questions, my boy. I will answer as best I can. I owe you that. I owe you both that.”

  Chapter 32

  For a second, I could not believe he'd finally given in. I almost expected to look around and see King Uthor's hell-creatures bearing down on us from all sides, Fate seemed so determined to keep me in ignorance. But it really was just the three of us here, sitting before the campfire, on a remote world far from home.

  I licked my lips. “All right. Was that a unicorn I saw?”

  “That was no unicorn,” Dworkin said. “That was your mother.”

  “My—mother?” I felt my heart skip. Suddenly, everything began to make sense. My life in Ilerium—it had all been a lie. He had brought me there to keep me out of harm's way. The woman who had raised me as her own… she must have been paid. That's why Dworkin had taken care of her all those years. My mother—my real mother—had to be a shape-shifter… some lady of Chaos. But why not tell me the truth?

  He let out his breath with an explosive sigh.

  “Yes… I brought you here several times, long ago, so she could see you. You are her child… heir to all she represents.”

  “The Pattern…” I whispered.

  “Yes,” my father said simply.

  Suddenly it all came clear. My mother couldn't be a lady of Chaos. She had to come from somewhere else… and she must incorporate the Pattern into her being the way the people of Chaos incorporated the Logrus. That explained all Dad's secrecy. If anyone had known about me, about my true heritage, I probably would have been assassinated years ago. He had kept my true mother a secret to protect me.

  “Where is she from?” I asked.

  “I am not really sure,” he said. “She found me, here, in this place.”

  I didn't know what to say or do. A thousand conflicting emotions ran through me. But mostly I felt relief. The largest part of the puzzle had come into place, and I thought all the other pieces would fall into position with a little more effort.

  Aber stared at both of us. “A unicorn? What are you talking about?” he demanded.

  I ignored him. “And the Jewel of Judgment?” I asked my father.

  “It is a part of her… just as it is a part of the Logrus, and much else in the universe. I needed it to create the Great Pattern.”

  “Then you have the Jewel?” Aber demanded.

  “Of course,” he said.

  My brother stood. “I want it,” he said, and he held out his hand. “Give it to me.”

  “No,” I said. I stood and put myself between them. We didn't have time for arguments now. “You're not returning it to King Uthor.”

  “It's for the good of everyone,” he said. He peered around me at our father. “You stole it, Dad. It's weakened Chaos. It's going to cost King Uthor his throne… and the lives of Freda and all your other children. Not to mention me. Hand it over, and I'll make sure you're spared.”

  I stared at him. “You sound like you mean it,” I said.

  “I do.”

  “But how can you offer a bargain like that? You're not the King—”

  Our father struggled to his feet. “He's one one of them!”

  “Yes,” Aber told him.

  I stared blankly at him. “One of what?”

  “King Uthor's men,” Dad said from behind me. I heard the whisper of his sword leaving its scabbard. “A spy, in the king's pay, prying into my affairs! Traitor!”

  “You're the traitor,” Aber retorted. “You've fooled Oberon with this nonsense about his mother and a Pattern, but you haven't fooled me. You're playing with forces beyond your understanding. I've tried to shield you—to protect you all—but I can't do it any longer.”

  “How long have you worked for King Uthor?” I asked.

  “Since the party at Aunt Lanara's house,” he told me. “One of his ministers pulled me aside and warned me what would happen if I didn't help. We would all—Freda, Dad, you, me, everyone in our family—be arrested, tried, and executed for treason. By helping them, I've made sure our family will continue. Now, give me the Jewel. I'll return it. It's not too late!”

  Dworkin threw back his head and howled with laughter.

  “What is it?” I demanded.

  “I put it the one place no one will never get it!” he said. “Around
the neck of the unicorn!”

  Aber looked horrified. “You couldn't—”

  “I did.” He pointed his sword at Aber and advanced on him. “I ought to kill you here and now.”

  “No!” I held Dad back. “He meant well“

  “Me, a traitor!” Dworkin raged. He glared at my brother. “You are the only traitor here, Aber! A traitor to your own father!”

  “It's your own fault!” I snapped. “If he knew what you planned, he might understand—”

  “We do not have time for this!” He tried to push around me.

  I blocked his way. “Then make time, Dad.”

  “I won't be branded a traitor back home!” Aber snapped.

  “Damnable children!”

  He tried to cuff me out of his way, but I caught his wrist. Not this time. He grunted, and I saw his neck muscles cord. My feet began to slide across the grass.

  Two could play at that game. Setting my feet, I gritted my teeth and held him. Then, with a surge of my muscles, I threw him back ten feet. He staggered and came up panting, giving me an odd look.

  “You are strong here,” he said.

  “Stronger than you.”

  “Maybe—”

  Behind me, I heard Aber say, “Don't fight him, Oberon. I can take care of myself!”

  I glanced over my shoulder. Aber folded his hands, and when he unfolded them, a ball of darkness writhed there.

  “You would not dare—” our father began.

  Aber said, “I didn't come here to fight. I came here to help—but if you try to hurt me, I will defend myself!”

  The darkness began to grow larger. He cast it onto the ground between us, and it began to swell, consuming the earth, becoming a pit.

  Dworkin took a few quick steps back. I did, too. I didn't like the look of that darkness. Aber stared down at it, mumbling words too fast and faint for me to catch. Could this be what he had called Primal Chaos?

  “Saddle the horses,” Dad said to me quietly, our disagreement seemingly forgotten. “I know the way now.”

  “What about Aber?” I asked as I heaved the saddle onto his gelding's back and began to tighten the cinch.

  “Leave him. He dares not follow us.”

  “I will follow!” Aber shouted. “If you won't save our family, I have to try!”

  The pit, I saw with growing horror, had become a yawning chasm, consuming everything it touched: our bedrolls, our campfire, our packs. We all stood on the edge of an abyss now.

  “Then you are a fool,” our father called to him.

  He swung up onto his mount and turned its head away from our camp. I hesitated, gave a last look back at Aber, and did the same.

  I had to give my brother credit. He had showed more spirit in the last five minutes than I ever would have expected.

  We headed steadily away from the clearing for the next hour, following a trail I could not see. Again Dad shifted through the Shadows, bringing us to a world where day had already broken.

  Then, as we rode, the air took on a strange, crystalline quality. Every branch on every tree stood out with a vividness of color and a sharpness of texture I had never seen before. No wind stirred; no insects chirped; no birds sang. Even the air itself seemed different-pure and energizing. I had never experienced anything like it.

  When we finally left the wood and rode out across a grassy plain, I gaped at the sun directly ahead of us. It was half again as big as the sun in Ilerium, and it shone with a rich golden hue that sent a glow through everything it touched.

  To our left lay an ocean, though it lay perfectly still, without the slightest wave to mar its surface. Nor did I see any sign offish or water-fowl. Rays of sunlight touched the ocean and cast its shallows a brilliant blue-green color, deepening to azure farther from shore. I could have sat there and watched it for hours.

  “We are close…” Dworkin murmured. “Yes…”

  “To what?” I asked, still staring at the sea.

  “To the Pattern, the true Pattern, the one at the center of everything. It is just ahead.”

  He dismounted and left his horse, just dropping its reins. I did the same. The geldings lowered their heads contentedly and began to feast on the grass.

  Side by side, we walked to where a huge flat stone, which must have been a hundred and fifty yards across and a hundred yards long, rose just above the surface of the plain.

  There, on the stone, like a ribbon of gold, I saw the familiar outline of the Pattern—the coils and turns, the elegant loops and switchbacks. It nearly matched the Pattern within me… almost, but not quite. It more resembled that which the serpent in the tower of skulls had raised from Taine's blood.

  “It's flawed,” I said.

  “Yes,” he said. “And that is why it must be destroyed. That is why we are here. The problems must be fixed.”

  I looked at him. “When you made it, you had never seen the whole Pattern, had you?”

  “No.”

  “Wait!” cried a voice behind us.

  I looked back. Aber was running through the grass to catch up.

  “Go home,” I told him. “You don't belong here. You tried to save us. You did your best. King Uthor will understand.”

  “You're going to destroy it!” he said to Dad, ignoring me. “I heard you say so. Why didn't you tell me? That's all King Uthor wants! We've been fighting for the same thing, all this time!”

  “Then you will help?” Dad asked him.

  “Yes.” He nodded quickly. “What must I do?”

  “I am not quite sure what will happen,” he said, “when I destroy it. You must keep me safe until my work is done, no matter what happens.”

  Aber swallowed, glanced at me, and nodded again.

  “What about everyone we sent into Shadows to hide?” I asked. “What happens to them when the Shadows go away?”

  Dworkin hesitated. “I cannot know,” he finally admitted. “Here. Use these.” He drew out a small stack of Trumps he'd been carrying inside his shirt. I flipped through them and removed the ones showing my brothers and sisters we had sent into Shadow to hide: Titus and Conner, identical twins, both as short as our father and both with his eyes and wary expressions; Isadora, in full battle dress, her red hair flowing; Syara, slender as a goddess, also red-haired; and Leona, sweet-faced and innocent; and Blaise, stunningly beautiful, but treacherous and manipulative. My family.

  “Are these Pattern Trumps?” I asked, returning the others to my father.

  He nodded. “Tell them to go back to Chaos,” he said, “while they still may. That is the one place which I know will continue.”

  I handed half the Trumps to Aber and kept the other half myself. He raised Titus's Trump. I picked Isadora's and concentrated.

  A moment later my sister's image rippled and became lifelike. She stood before me in chain link armor, a sword in her hand, red hair flowing in the wind, a smudge of blood across her chin. She looked fiercely beautiful. Beyond her, I saw Juniper Castle, its walls half tumbled. Smoke rose from two of the towers. Giant creatures, naked and hairy, carrying clubs and spears, roamed the walls. Those had to be the trolls.

  “Oberon?” she said. “What do you want?”

  “I'm with Dad,” I asked.

  “Good. We are almost done here. Our vengeance is nearly complete. Tell him.”

  “He's about to destroy all the Shadows. You must leave now.”

  “What!” she cried. “How“

  I shook my head. “We don't have time for that. You must return to Chaos as quickly as you can. We don't know what will happen to anyone still in Shadows when the end comes. Promise me you'll go?”

  She hesitated, then nodded. “All right. But—”

  “Thanks. I have others to reach.” I put my hand over the Trump, and she disappeared, still calling questions. Hopefully she would hurry.

  Next came Leona. I tried to contact her, concentrating as hard as I could, but though I sensed her out there, she refused to respond. Probably minding her orders, I t
hought unhappily. She had been told not to answer anyone, no matter what, until we settled the matter of whoever was trying to destroy our family.

  “If you can hear me,” I said, “this is Oberon. You aren't safe in Shadows anymore. Get to Dad's house in the Beyond as fast as you can.”

  I could do no more than that.

  My last Trump showed Syara. I got no response from her, either. I tried sending the same message as the one I'd given Leona.

  Then I put my trumps down and looked at Aber. He too had finished.

  “Well?”

  “I reached Titus,” he said. “He and Conner are heading back. Blaise… sorry, she wouldn't answer me.”

  I nodded slowly. “I spoke with Isadora. I couldn't reach Leona or Syara.”

  “Let me try them,” he said.

  “And I'll try Blaise.”

  We traded Trumps, and he concentrated on first one, then the other. Then he shook his head.

  “Nothing.”

  I raised Blaise's Trump and got only the faintest of stirring, as though she were far away. Still I concentrated, willing her to appear before me, demanding it.

  Finally her image wavered and came to life, though not clearly. She lay on a padded bench sipping what looked like wine as scantily clad young men fanned her with enormous wicker paddles. In the distance, I saw an emerald sea, with languid waves splashing on a broad white beach. Gulls wheeled overhead, their calls raucous.

  “Oberon…” she said. Her voice sounded like it came from the depths of a cave, flat and echoing.

  “Get back to the Courts of Chaos as fast as you can,” I told her. “You're in danger where you are.”

  “Danger?” She laughed and looked about. “Here?”

  I frowned. “All the Shadows, including the one you're in, are about to be destroyed.

  “Impossible!”

  “This is the only warning you're going to get. Contact Fenn or Freda and join them in the Beyond. It's your only hope. If I'm wrong… well, you can always go back.”

  “Very well.” She sat up, looking annoyed. How very like her. I covered the Trump and broke our connection.

  “I told Blaise,” I said to Aber. Then I told him about the decadent scene I had witnessed. We both had to laugh.