“Maybe someone should stay with the invalid,” I told her.
“He’ll be all right,” she said, “and I might need your help if I can’t scare up a servant.”
On the other hand, maybe she had something interesting to tell me. . . .
I found my shirt and drew it on. I ran a hand through my hair.
“Okay,” I said. “See you in a bit, Luke.”
“Hey,” he responded, “see if you can turn up a walking stick for me, or cut me a staff or something.”
“Isn’t that rushing things a bit?” Vinta asked.
“Never can tell,” Luke replied.
So I fetched my blade and took it along. As I followed Vinta out and down the stairs, it occurred to me that when any two of us got together we would probably have something to say about the third.
As soon as we were out of earshot, Vinta remarked, “He took a chance, coming to you.”
“Yes, he did.”
“So things must be going badly for him, if he felt you were the only one he could turn to.”
“I’d say that’s true.”
“Also, I’m sure he wants something besides a place to recover.”
“Probably so.”
“`Probably,’ hell! He must have asked by now.”
“Perhaps.”
“Either he did or he didn’t.”
“Vinta, obviously you’ve told me everything you intend to tell me,” I said. “Well, vice versa. We’re even. I don’t owe you explanations. If I feel like trusting Luke, I will. Anyhow, I haven’t decided yet.”
“So he has made you a pitch. I might be able to help you decide if you’ll let me know what it is.”
“No, thanks. You’re as bad as he is.”
“It’s your welfare I’m concerned with. Don’t be so quick to spurn an ally.”
“I’m not,” I said. “But if you stop to think about it, I know a lot more about Luke than I do about you. I think I know the things on which I shouldn’t trust him as well as I do the safe ones.”
“I hope you’re not betting your life on it.”
I smiled. “That’s a matter on which I tend to be conservative.”
We entered the kitchen, where she spoke with a woman I hadn’t met yet who seemed in charge there. She left our breakfast orders with her and led me out the side door and onto the patio. From there, she indicated a stand of trees off to the east.
“You ought to be able to find a good sapling in there,” she said, “for Luke’s staff.”
“Probably so,” I replied, and we began walking in that direction. “So you really were Gail Lampron,” I said suddenly.
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand this body-changing bit at all.”
“And I’m not about to tell you.”
“Care to tell me why not?”
“Nope.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t,” she said.
“But if I already know something, would you be willing to add a bit?”
“Maybe. Try me.”
“When you were Dan Martinez you took a shot at one of us. Which one was it?”
“Luke,” she replied.
“Why?”
“I’d become convinced that he was not the one—that is, that he represented a threat to you—”
“—and you just wanted to protect me,” I finished.
“Exactly.”
“What did you mean ‘that he was not the one’?”
“Slip of the tongue. That looks like a good tree over there.”
I chuckled. “Too thick. Okay, be that way.”
I headed on into the grove. There were a number of possibilities off to the right.
As I moved through the morning-lanced interstices, damp leaves and dew adhering to my boots, I became aware of some unusual scuffing along the way, a series of marks leading off farther to the right, where. . . .
“What’s that?” I said, kind of rhetorically, since I didn’t think Vinta would know either, as I headed toward a dark mass at the shady foot of an old tree.
I reached it ahead of her. It was one of the Bayle dogs, a big brown fellow. Its throat had been torn open. The blood was dark and congealed. A few insects were crawling on it. Off farther to the right I saw the remains of a smaller dog. It had been disemboweled.
I studied the area about the remains. The marks of very large paws were imprinted in the damp earth. At least they were not the three-toed prints of the deadly doglike creatures I had encountered in the past. They seemed simply to be those of a very large dog.
“This must be what I heard last night,” I remarked. “I thought it sounded like a dogfight.”
“When was that?” she asked.
“Some time after you left. I was drowsing.”
Then she did a strange thing. She knelt, leaned and sniffed the track. When she recovered there was a slightly puzzled expression on her face. “What did you find?” I asked.
She shook her head, then stared off to the northeast. “I’m not sure,” she finally said, “but it went that way.”
I studied the ground further, rising and finally moving along the trail it had left. It did run off in that direction, though I lost it after several hundred feet when it departed the grove. Finally, I turned away.
“One of the dogs attacked the others, I guess,” I observed. “We’d better find that stick and head back if we want our breakfasts warm.”
Inside, I learned that Luke’s breakfast had been sent up to him. I was torn. I wanted to take mine upstairs, to join him and continue our conversation. If I did, though, Vinta would accompany me and the conversation would not be continued. Nor could I talk further with her under those circumstances. So I would have to join her down here, which meant leaving Luke alone for longer than I liked.
So I went along with her when she said, “We will eat in here,” and led me into a large hall. I guessed she had chosen it because my room with its open window was above the patio, and Luke could have heard us talking if we ate out there.
We sat at the end of a long darkwood table, where we were served.
When we were alone again, she asked, “What are you going to do now?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, sipping some grape juice.
She glanced upward. “With him,” she said. “Take him back to Amber?”
“It would seem the logical thing to do,” I replied.
“Good,” she said. “You should probably transport him soon. They have decent medical facilities at the palace.”
I nodded. “Yes, they do.”
We ate a few mouthfuls, then she asked, “That is what you intend doing, isn’t it?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because anything else would be absolutely foolish, and obviously he is not going to want to do it. Therefore, he will try to talk you into something else, something that will give him some measure of freedom while he recovers. You know what a line of shit he has. He’ll make it sound like a great idea, whatever it is. You must remember that he is an enemy of Amber, and when he is ready to move again you will be in the way.”
“It makes sense,” I said.
“I’m not finished.”
“Oh?”
She smiled and ate a few more bites, to keep me wondering. Finally, “He came to you for a reason,” she continued. “He could have crawled off to any of a number of places to lick his wounds. But he came to you because he wants something. He’s gambling, but it’s a calculated thing. Don’t go for it, Merle. You don’t owe him anything.”
“I don’t know why you think me incapable of taking care of myself,” I replied.
“I never said that,” she responded. “But some decisions are finely balanced things. A little extra weight this way or that sometimes makes the difference. You know Luke, but so do I. This is not a time to be giving him any breaks.”
“You have a point there,” I said.
“So you have decided to give him what he wants!”
<
br /> I smiled and drank some coffee. “Hell, he hasn’t been conscious long enough to give me the pitch,” I said. “I’ve thought of these things, and I want to know what he’s got in mind too.”
“I never said you shouldn’t find out as much as you can. I just wanted to remind you that talking with Luke can sometimes be like conversing with a dragon.”
“Yeah,” I acknowledged. “I know.”
“And the longer you wait the harder it’s going to be,” she added.
I took a gulp of coffee; then, “Did you like him?” I asked.
“Like?” she said. “Yes,I did. And I still do. That is not material at this point, though.”
“I don’t know about that,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“You wouldn’t harm him without good reason.”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“He is no threat to me at the moment.”
“He does not seem to be.”
“Supposing I were to leave him here in your care while I went off to Amber to walk the Pattern and to prepare them for the news?”
She shook her head vigorously. “No,” she stated. “I will not—I cannot—take that responsibility at this time.”
“Why not?”
She hesitated.
“And please don’t say again that you cannot tell me,” I went on. “Find a way to tell me as much as you can.”
She spoke slowly then, as if choosing her words very carefully. “Because it is more important for me to watch you than Luke. There is still danger for you which I do not understand, even though it no longer seems to be proceeding from him. Guarding you against this unknown peril is of higher priority than keeping an eye on him. Therefore, I cannot remain here. If you are returning to Amber, so am I.”
“I appreciate your concern,” I said, “but I will not have you dogging my footsteps.”
“Neither of us has a choice.”
“Supposing I simply trump out of here to some distant shadow?”
“I will be obliged to follow you.”
“In this form, or another?”
She looked away. She poked at her food.
“You’ve already admitted that you can be other persons. You locate me in some arcane fashion, then you take possession of someone in my vicinity.”
She took a drink of coffee.
“Perhaps something prevents you from saying it,” I continued, “but that’s the case. I know it.”
She nodded once, curtly, and resumed eating.
“Supposing I did trump out right now,” I said, “and you followed after in your peculiar fashion.” I thought back to my telephone conversations with Meg Devlin and Mrs. Hansen. “Then the real Vinta Bayle would wake up in her own body with a gap in her memory, right?”
“Yes,” she answered softly.
“And that would leave Luke here in the company of a woman who would be happy to destroy him if she had any inkling who he really is.”
She smiled faintly. “Just so,” she said.
We ate in silence for a time. She had attempted to foreclose all my choices, to force me to trump back to Amber and take Luke with me. I do not like being manipulated or coerced. My reflexive attempt to do something other than what is desired of me then feels forced also.
I refilled our coffee cups when I had finished eating. I regarded a collection of dog portraits that hung on the wall across from me. I sipped and savored. I did not speak because I could think of nothing further to say.
Finally, she did. “So what are you going to do?” she asked me.
I finished my coffee and rose. “I am going to take Luke his stick,” I said.
I pushed my chair back into place and headed for the corner of the room where I had leaned the stick.
“And then?” she said. “What will you do?”
I glanced back at her as I hefted the staff. She sat very erect, her hands palms down on the table. The Nemesis look overlay her features once again, and I could almost feel electricity in the air.
“Whatever I must,” I replied, and I headed for the door.
I increased my pace as soon as I was out of sight. When I hit the stairs and saw that she was not following, I took the steps two at a time. On the way up, I withdrew my cards and located the proper one.
When I entered the room I saw that Luke was resting, his back against the bed’s pillows. His breakfast tray was on the smaller chair, beside the bed. I dropped the latch on the door.
“What’s the matter, man? We under attack or something?” Luke asked.
“Start getting up,” I said.
I picked up his weapon then and crossed to the bed. I gave him a hand sitting up, thrust the staff and the blade at him.
“My hand has been forced,” I said, “and I’m not about to turn you over to Random.”
“That’s a comfort,” he observed.
“But we have to clear out—now.”
“That’s all right by me.”
He leaned on the staff, got slowly to his feet. I heard a noise in the hall, but it was already too late. I’d raised the card and was concentrating. There came a pounding on the door.
“You’re up to something and I think it’s the wrong thing,” Vinta called out.
I did not reply. The vision was already coming clear.
The doorframe splintered from the force of a tremendous kick, and the latch was torn loose. There was a look of apprehension on Luke’s face as I reached out and took hold of his arm.
“Come on,” I said.
Vinta burst into the room as I led Luke forward, her eyes flashing, her hands extended, reaching. Her cry of “Fool!” seemed to change into a wail as she was washed by the spectrum, rippled and faded.
We stood in a patch of grass, and Luke let out a deep breath he had been holding.
“You believe in cutting things close, buddy-boy,” he remarked, and then he looked around and recognized the place.
He smiled crookedly.
“What do you know,” he said. “A crystal cave.”
“From my own experience,” I said, “the time flow here should be about what you were asking for.”
He nodded and we began moving slowly toward the high blue hill. “Still plenty of rations,” I added, “and the sleeping bag should be where I left it.”
“It will serve,” he acknowledged.
He halted, panting, before we reached the foot. I saw his gaze drift toward a number of strewn bones off to our left. It would have been months since the pair who had removed the boulder had fallen there, long enough for scavengers to have done a thorough job. Luke shrugged, advanced a little, leaned against blue stone. He lowered himself slowly into a sitting position.
“Going to have to wait before I can climb,” he said, “even with you helping.”
“Sure,” I said. “We can finish our conversation. As I recall, you were going to make me an offer I couldn’t refuse. I was to bring you to a place like this, where you could recover fast vis-à-vis the time flow at the Keep. You, in turn, had a piece of information vital to the security of Amber.”
“Right,” he agreed, “and you didn’t hear the rest of my story either. They go together.”
I hunkered across from him. “You told me that your mother had fled to the Keep, apparently gotten into trouble there and called to you for help.”
“Yes,” he acknowledged. “So I dropped the business with Ghostwheel and tried to help her. I got in touch with Dalt, and he agreed to come and attack the Keep.”
“It’s always good to know a band of mercenaries you can get hold of in a hurry,” I said.
He gave me a quick, strange look but I was able to maintain an innocent expression.
“So we led them through Shadow and we attacked the place,” he said then. “It had to be us that you saw when you were there.”
I nodded slowly. “It looked as if you made it over the wall. What went wrong?”
“I still don’t know,” he said. “We were doing all r
ight. Their defense was crumbling and we were pushing right along, when suddenly Dalt turned on me. We’d been separated for a time; then he appeared again and attacked me. At first I thought he’d made a mistake—we were all grimy and bloody—and I shouted to him that it was me. But he just kept coming. That’s how he was able to do a job like this on me. For a while I didn’t want to strike back because I thought it was a misunderstanding and he’d realize his mistake in a few seconds.”
“Do you think he sold you out? Or that it was something he’d been planning for a long time? Some grudge?”
“I don’t like to think that.”
“Magic, then?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
A peculiar thought occurred to me. “Did he know you’d killed Caine?” I asked.
“No, I make it a point never to tell anybody everything I’m about.”
“You wouldn’t kid me, would you?”
He laughed, moved as if to clap me on the shoulder, winced and thought better of it.
“Why do you ask?” he said then.
“I don’t know. Just curious.”
“Sure,” he said. Then, “What say you give me a hand up and inside, so I can see what kind of supplies you’ve left me?”
“Why?” I got to my feet and helped him to his. We moved around to the right to the slope of easiest ascent, and I guided him slowly to the top.
Once we’d achieved the summit he leaned on his staff and stared down into the opening.
“No really easy way down in,” he said, “for me. At first I was thinking you could roll up a barrel from the larder, and I could get down to it and then down to the floor. But now I look at it, it’s an even bigger drop than I remembered. I’d tear something open, sure.”
“Mm-hm,” I said. “Hang on. I’ve got an idea.”
I turned away from him and climbed back down. Then I made my way along the base of the blue rise to my right until I had rounded two shiny boulders and was completely out of Luke’s line of sight.
I did not care to use the Logrus in his presence if I did not have to. I did not wish for him to see how I went about things, and I did not want to give him any idea as to what I could or could not do. I’m not that comfortable letting people know too much about me, either.
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