The Great Book of Amber

by Roger Zelazny

“Hurry,” he said.

  I shouted for Ganelon, and he answered me from only a few paces away. I told him to line the troops up, single file. He nodded and went off, shouting orders.

  As we waited, I said, “Benedict, Dara is here. She was able to follow you through Shadow when you rode in from Avalon. I want—”

  He bared his teeth and shouted: “Who the hell is this Dara you keep talking about? I never heard of her till you came along! Please tell me! I would really like to know!”

  I smiled faintly.

  “It's no good,” I said, shaking my head. “I know all about her, though I have told no one else that you've a great granddaughter.”

  His lips parted involuntarily and his eyes were suddenly wide.

  “Corwin,” he said, “you are either mad or deceived. I've no such descendant that I know of. As for anyone following me here through Shadow, I came in on Julian's Trump.”

  Of course. My only excuse for not tripping her up immediately was my preoccupation with the conflict Benedict would have been notified of the battle by means of the Trumps. Why should he waste time traveling when an instant means of transport was at hand?

  “Damn!” I said. “She is in Amber by now! Listen, Benedict! I am going to get Gerard or Caine over here to handle the transfer of the troops to you. Ganelon will come through, also. Give them their orders through him.”

  I looked around, saw Gerard talking with several of the nobles. I shouted for him with a desperate urgency. His head turned quickly. Then he began running in my direction.

  “Corwin! What is it?” Benedict was shouting.

  “I don't know! But something is very wrong!” I thrust the Trump at Gerard as he came up.

  “See that the troops get through to Benedict!” I said. “Is Random in the palace?”

  “Yes.”

  “Free or confined?”

  “Free-more or less. There will be some guards about. Eric still doesn't-didn't trust him.” I turned.

  “Ganelon,” I called out. “Do what Gerard here tells you. He is going to send you to Benedict-down there.” I gestured. “See that the men follow Benedict's orders. I have to get into Amber now.”

  “All right,” he called back.

  Gerard headed in his direction, and I fanned the Trumps once more. I located Random's and began to concentrate. At that moment, it finally began to rain. I made contact almost immediately.

  “Hello, Random,” I said, as soon as his image came to life. “Remember me?”

  “Where are you?” he asked.

  “In the mountains,” I told him. “We just won this part of the battle, and I am sending Benedict the help he needs to clean up in the valley. Now, though, I need your help. Bring me across.”

  “I don't know, Corwin. Eric—”

  “Eric is dead.”

  “Then who is in charge?”

  “Who do you think? Bring me across!”

  He nodded quickly and extended his hand. I reached out and clasped it. I stepped forward. I stood beside him on a balcony overlooking one of the courtyards. The railing was of white marble, and not much was blooming down below. We were two stories up. I swayed and he seized my arm. “You're hurt!” be said.

  I shook my head, only just then realizing how tired I was. I had not slept very much the past few nights. That, and everything else...

  “No,” I said, glancing down at the gory mess that was my shirt front. “Just tired. The blood is Eric's.”

  He ran a hand through his straw-colored hair and pursed his lips. “So you did finally nail him...” he said softly. I shook my head again.

  “No. He was already dying when I got to him. Come with me now! Hurry! It is important!”

  “Where to? What is the matter?”

  “To the Pattern,” I said. “Why? I am not certain, but I know that it is important. Come on!”

  We entered the palace, moving toward the nearest stairwell. There were two guards at its head, but they came to attention as we approached and did not attempt to interfere with our passage.

  “I'm glad it's true about your eyes,” Random said as we headed down. “Do you see all right?”

  “Yes. I hear that you are still married.”

  “Yes. I am.”

  When we reached the ground floor, we hurried to the right. There had been another pair of guards at the foot of the stair, but they did not move to stop us.

  “Yes,” he repeated, as we headed toward the center of the palace. “You are surprised, aren't you?”

  “Yes. I thought you were going to get the year over with and be done with it.”

  “So did I,” he said. “But I fell in love with her. I really did.”

  “Stranger things have happened.”

  We crossed the marble dining hall and entered the long, narrow corridor that led far back through shadows and dust. I suppressed a shudder as I thought of my condition the last time I had come this way.

  “She really cares for me,” he said. “Like nobody else ever has before.”

  “I'm glad for you,” I said.

  We reached the door that opened onto the platform hiding the long, spiral stairway down. It was open. We passed through and began the descent.

  “I'm not,” he said, as we hurried around and around. “I didn't want to fall in love. Not then. We've been prisoners the whole time, you know. How can she be proud of that?”

  “That is over now,” I said. “You became a prisoner because you followed me and tried to kill Eric, didn't you?”

  “Yes. Then she joined me here.”

  “I will not forget,” I said.

  We rushed on. It was a great distance down, and there were only lanterns every forty feet or so. It was a huge, natural cavern. I wondered whether anyone knew how many tunnels and corridors it contained. I suddenly felt myself overwhelmed with pity for any poor wretches rotting in its dungeons, for whatever reasons. I resolved to release them all or find something better to do with them.

  Long minutes passed. I could see the flickering of the torches and the lanterns below.

  “There is a girl,” I said, “and her name is Dara. She told me she was Benedict's great-granddaughter and gave me reason to believe it. I told her somewhat concerning Shadow, reality, and the Pattern. She does possess some power over Shadow, and she was anxious to walk the Pattern. When last I saw her, she was headed this way. Now Benedict swears she is not his. Suddenly I am fearful. I want to keep her from the Pattern. I want to question her.”

  “Strange,” he said. “Very. I agree with you. Do you think she might be there now?”

  “If she is not, then I feel she will be along soon.”

  We finally reached the floor, and I began to race through the shadows toward the proper tunnel.

  “Wait!” Random cried.

  I halted and turned. It took me a moment to locate him, as he was back behind the stairs. I returned.

  My question did not reach my lips. I saw that he knelt beside a large, bearded man.

  “Dead,” he said. “A very thin blade. Good thrust Just recently.”

  “Come on!” We both ran to the tunnel and turned up it. Its seventh side passage was the one we wanted. I drew Grayswandir as we neared it, for that great, dark, metal-bound door was standing ajar.

  I sprang through. Random was right behind me. The floor of that enormous room is black and looks to be smooth as glass, although it is not slippery. The Pattern burns upon it, within it, an intricate, shimmering maze of curved lines, perhaps a hundred and fifty yards long. We halted at its edge, staring.

  Something was out there, walking it. I felt that old, tingling chill the thing always gives me as I watched. Was it Dara? It was difficult for me to make out the figure within the fountains of sparks that spewed constantly about it. Whoever it was had to be of the blood royal, for it was common knowledge that anyone else would be destroyed by the Pattern, and this individual had already made it past the Grand Curve and was negotiating the complicated series of arcs that led towar
d the Final Veil.

  The firefly form seemed to change shape as it moved. For a time, my senses kept rejecting the tiny subliminal glimpses that I knew must be coming through to me. I heard Random gasp beside me, and it seemed to breach my subconscious dam. A horde of impressions flooded my mind.

  It seemed to tower hugely in that always unsubstantial-seeming chamber. Then shrink, die down, almost to nothing. It seemed a slim woman for a moment-possibly Dara, her hair lightened by the glow, streaming, crackling with static electricity. Then it was not hair, but great, curved horns from some wide, uncertain brow, whose crook-legged owner struggled to shuffle hoofs along the blazing way. Then something else... An enormouse cat... A faceless woman... A bright-winged thing of indescribable beauty... A tower of ashes...

  “Dara!” I cried out. “Is that you?”

  My voice echoed back, and that was all. Whoever/ whatever it was struggled now with the Final Veil. My muscles strained forward in unwilling sympathy with the effort.

  Finally, it burst through.

  Yes, it was Dara! Tall and magnificent now. Both beautiful and somehow horrible at the same time. The sight of her tore at the fabric of my mind. Her arms were upraised in exultation and an inhuman laughter flowed from her lips. I wanted to look away, yet I could not move. Had I truely held, caressed, made love to-that? I was mightily repelled and simultaneously attracted as I had never been before. I could not understand this overwhelming ambivalence. Then she looked at me. The laughter ceased. Her altered voice rang out. “Lord Corwin, are you liege of Amber now?”

  From somewhere, I managed a reply. “For all practical purposes,” I said.

  “Good! Then behold your nemesis!”

  “Who are you? What are you?”

  “You will never know,” she said. “It is just exactly too late now.”

  “I do not understand. What do you mean?”

  “Amber,” she said, “will be destroyed.” And she vanished.

  “What the hell,” said Random then, “was that?” I shook my head.

  “I do not know. I really do not know. And I feel ..that it is the most important thing in the world that we find out.”

  He gripped my arm.

  “Corwin,” he said. “She-it-meant it. And it may be possible, you know.”

  I nodded. “I know.”

  “What are we going to do now?”

  I resheathed Grayswandir and turned back toward the door.

  “Pick up the pieces,” I said. “I have what I thought I always wanted within my grasp now, and I must secure it. And I cannot wait for what is to come. I must seek it out and stop it before it ever reaches Amber.”

  “Do you know where to seek it?” he asked.

  We turned up the tunnel.

  “I believe it lies at the other end of the black road,” I said.

  We moved on through the cavern to the stairs where the dead man lay and went round and round above him in the dark.

  Sign of the Unicorn

  CHAPTER 1

  I ignored the questions in the eyes of the groom as I lowered the grisly parcel and turned the horse in for care and maintenance. My cloak could not really conceal the nature of its contents as I slung the guts over my shoulder and stamped off toward the rear entrance to the palace. Hell would soon be demanding its paycheck.

  I skirted the exercise area and made my way to the trail that led toward the southern end of the palace gardens. Fewer eyes along that route. I would still be spotted, but it would be a lot less awkward than going in the front way, where things are always busy. Damn.

  And again, damn. Of troubles I considered myself amply possessed. But those who have do seem to get. Some spiritual form of compound interest, I suppose.

  There were a few idlers beside the fountain at the far end of the garden. Also, a couple of guards were passing among the bushes near the trail. The guards saw me coming, held a brief discussion, and looked the other way. Prudent.

  Me, back less than a week. Most things, still unresolved. The court of Amber, full of suspicion and unrest. This, now: a death to further jeopardize the brief, unhappy prereign of Corwin 1: me.

  Time now to do something I should have done right away. But there had been so many things to do, from the very first. It was not as if I had been nodding, as I saw it. I had assigned priorities and acted on them. Now, though...

  I crossed the garden, out of the shade and into the slanting sunlight. I swung up the wide, curving stair. A guard snapped to attention as I entered the palace. I made for the rear stairway, then up to the second floor. Then the third.

  From the right, my brother Random stepped out of his suite and into the hallway.

  “Corwin!” he said, studying my face. “What's the matter? I saw you from the balcony and—”

  “Inside,” I said, gesturing with my eyes. “We are going to have a private conference. Now.”

  He hesitated, regarding my burden.

  “Let's make it two rooms up,” he said. “Okay? Vialle's in here.”

  “All right.”

  He led the way, opened the door. I entered the small sitting room, sought a likely spot, dropped the body.

  Random stared at the bundle.

  “What am I supposed to do?” he asked.

  “Unwrap the goodies,” I said, “and take a look.”

  He knelt and undid the cloak. He folded it back. “Dead all right,” he observed. “What's the problem?”

  “You did not look closely enough,” I said. “Peel back an eyelid. Open the mouth and look at the teeth. Feel the spurs on the backs of the hands. Count the joints in the fingers. Then you tell me about the problem.”

  He began doing these things. As soon as he looked at the hands he stopped and nodded. “All right,” he said. “I remember.”

  “Remember out loud.”

  “It was back at Flora's place...”

  “That was where I first saw anyone like this,” I said. “They were after you, though. I never did find out why.”

  “That's right,” he said. “I never got a chance to tell you about it. We weren't together all that long. Strange... Where did this one come from?”

  I hesitated, torn between pushing him from his story and telling him mine. Mine won out because it was mine and very immediate.

  I sighed and sank into a chair.

  “We've just lost us another brother,” I said. “Caine is dead. I got there a bit too late. That thing-person did it. I wanted it alive, for obvious reasons. But it put up quite a fight. I didn't have much of a choice.”

  He whistled softly, seated himself in the chair opposite me.

  “I see,” he said very softly.

  I studied his face. Was that the faintest of smiles waiting in the wings to enter and meet my own? Quite possibly.

  “No,” I said flatly. “If it were otherwise, I would have arranged for a lot less doubt as to my innocence. I'm telling you what really happened.”

  “All right,” he said. “Where is Caine?”

  “Under a layer of sod, near the Grove of the Unicorn.”

  “That looks suspicious right there,” he said. “Or will. To the others.”

  I nodded.

  “I know. I had to hide the body and cover it in the meantime, though. I couldn't just bring him back and start parrying questions. Not when there were important facts waiting for me, in your head.”

  “Okay,” he said. “I don't know how important they are, but they're yours. But don't leave me hanging, huh? How did this thing happen?”

  “It was right after lunch,” I said. “I had eaten down at the harbor with Gerard. Afterward, Benedict brought me topside through his Trump. Back in my rooms, I found a note which apparently had been slipped in under the door. It requested a private meeting, later in the afternoon, at the Grove of the Unicorn. It was signed 'Caine. ' “

  “Have you still got the note?”

  “Yes.” I dug it out of my pocket and passed it to him. “Here.”

  He studied it and
shook his head.

  “I don't know,” he said. “It could be his writing-if he were in a hurry-but I don't think it is.”

  I shrugged. I took the note back, folded it, put it away.

  “Whatever, I tried to reach him with his Trump, to save myself the ride. But he wasn't receiving. I guessed it was to maintain secrecy as to his whereabouts, if it was all that important. So I got a horse and rode on down.”

  “Did you tell anyone where you were going?”

  “Not a soul. I did decide to give the horse a workout, though, so I rode along at a pretty good clip. I didn't see it happen, but I saw him lying there as I came into the wood. His throat had been cut, and there was a disturbance off in the bushes some distance away. I rode the guy down, jumped him, fought with him, had to kill him. We didn't engage in any conversation while this was going on.”

  “You're sure you got the right guy?”

  “As sure as you can be under such circumstances. His trail went back to Caine. He had fresh blood on his garments.”

  “Might have been his own.”

  “Look again. No wounds. I broke his neck. Of course I remembered where I had seen his like before, so I brought him right to you. Before you tell me about it, though, there was one more thing-just for a clincher.”

  I withdrew the second note, passed it over.

  “The creature had this on its person. I presume it had removed it from Caine.”

  Random read it, nodded, and handed it back.

  “From you, to Caine, asking to be met there. Yes, I see. Needless to say...”

  “Needless to say,” I finished. “And it does look a bit like my writing-at first glance, anyway.”

  “I wonder what would have happened if you had gotten there first?”

  “Probably nothing,” I said. “Alive and looking bad-that seems how they wanted me. The trick was to get us there in the proper order, and I didn't hurry quite enough to miss what was bound to follow.”

  He nodded.

  “Granting the tight scheduling,” he said, “it had to be someone on the scene, here in the palace. Any ideas?”

  I chuckled and reached for a cigarette. I lit it and chuckled again.

  “I'm just back. You have been here all along,” I said. “Which one hates me the most these days?”