“It found you that fast?” he said. “I wasn't even sure I could count on that. I guess it was worth the price after all. But... What happened?”.
“It's dead.”
“You're very lucky. Too lucky,” he replied.”
“What is it that you want, Jurt? I'd like to settle this once and for all.”
“Me, too,” he answered. “You betrayed someone I love, and only your death will set things right.”
“Who are you talking about? I don't understand.”
He grinned suddenly.
“You will,” he said. “In the last moments of your life I'll let you know why.”
“I may have a long wait, then,” I answered. “You don't seem to be very good at this sort of thing: Why not just tell me now and save us both a lot of trouble?”
He laughed, and the prism effect increased, and it occurred to me in that instant what it was.
“Sooner than you think,” he said, “for shortly I will be more powerful than anything you ever met.”
“But no less clumsy,” I suggested, both to him and to whomever held his Tnimp, watching me through it, ready to snatch him away in an instant...
“That is you, Mask, isn't it?” I said. “Take him back. You don't have to send him again either and watch him screw up. I'll promote you on my list of priorities and come calling soon, if you'll just give me an assurance that it's really you.”
Jurt opened his mouth and said something, but I couldn't hear it because he faded fast and his words went away with him. Something flew toward me as this occurred; there was no need to parry it, but I couldn't stop the reflex.
Along with two moldering corpses and Jurt's little finger, a dozen or so roses lay scattered on the floor at my feet, there at the rainbow's end.
CHAPTER 5
As we walked along the beach in the direction of the harbor, Coral finally spoke:
“Does that sort of thing happen around here very often?”
“You should come by on a bad day,” I said.
“If you don't mind telling me, I'd like to hear what it was all about.”
“I guess I owe you an explanation,” I agreed, “because I wronged you back there, whether you know it or not.”
“You're serious.”
“Yep,”
“Go on. I'm really curious.”
“It's a long story...,” I began again.
She looked ahead to the harbor, then up to Kolvir's heights.
“...A long walk, too,” she said.
“...And you're a daughter of the prime minister of a country with which we have somewhat touchy relations at the moment.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some of the things that are happening may represent kind of sensitive information.”
She put her hand on my shoulder and halted. She stared into my eyes.
“I can keep a secret,” she told me. “After all, you know mine.”
I congratulated myself on having finally learned my relatives' trick of controlling facial expression even when puzzled as all hell. She had said something back in the cave when I had addressed her as if she were the entity, something that sounded as if she believed I had. discovered a secret concerning her.
So I gave her a wry smile and nodded.
“Just so,” I said.
“You're not planning on ravaging our country or anything like that, are you?” she asked.
“To my knowledge, no. And I don't think it likely either.”
“Well, then. You can only speak from your knowledge, can't you?”
“True,” I agreed.
“So let's hear the story.”
“All right.”
As we walked along the strand and I spoke, to the accompaniment of the waves' deep notes, I could not help but remember again my father's long narrative. Was it a family trait, I wondered, to go autobiographical at a time of troubles if the right listener turned up? For I realized I was elaborating my telling beyond the bounds of necessity. And why should she be the right listener, anyhow?
When we reached the port district, I realized I was hungry, anyway, and I still had a lot of telling to do. In that it was still daylight and doubtless considerably safer than when I'd made my nighttime visit, I found my way over to Harbor Road-which was even dirtier in strong light-and, having learned that Coral was hungry, too, I took us on around to the rear of the cove, pausing for a few minutes to watch a many-roasted vessel with golden sails round the sea wall and head in. Then we followed the curving way to the western shore, and I was able to locate Seabreeze Lane without any trouble. It was still early enough. that we passed a few sober sailors. At one point a heavy, black-bearded man with an interesting scar on his right cheek began to approach us, but a smaller man caught up with him first and whispered something in his ear. They both fumed away.
“Hey,” I said. “What did he want?”
“Nothin',” the smaller man said. “He don't want nothin'.” He studied me for a moment and nodded. Then, “I saw you here the other night,” he added.
“Oh,” I said, as they continued to the next corner, turned it, and were gone.
“What was that all about?” Coral said.
“I didn't get to that part of the story yet.”
But I remembered it vividly when we passed the place where it had occurred. No signs of that conflict remained.
I almost passed what had been Bloody Bill's, though, because a new sign hung above the door. It read “Bloody Andy's,” in fresh green letters. The place was just the same inside, however, except for the man behind the counter, who was taller and thinner than the shaggy, cragfaced individual who had served me last time. His name, I learned, was Jak, and he was Andy's brother. He sold us a bottle of Bayle's Piss and put in our order for two fish dinners through the hole in the wall. My former table was vacant and we took it. I laid my sword belt on the chair to my right, with the blade partly drawn, as I had been taught etiquette required here.
“I like this place,” she said. “It's... different.”
“Uh... yes,” I agreed, glancing at two passed-out drunks-one to the front of the establishment, one to the rear-and three shifty-eyed individuals conversing in low voices off in one corner. A few broken bottles and suspi– cious stains were upon the floor, and some not-too-subtle artwork of an amorous nature hung on the far wall. “The food's quite good,” I added.
“I've never been in a restaurant like this,” she continued, watching a black cat, who rolled in from a rear room, wrestling with an enormous rat.
“It has its devotees, but it's a well-kept secret among discriminating diners.”
I continued my tale through a meal even better than the one I remembered. When the door opened much later to admit a small man with a bad limp and a dirty bandage about his head I noticed that daylight was beginning to wane. I had just finished my story and it seemed a good time to– be leaving.
I said as much, but she put her hand on mine.
“You know I'm not your entity,” she said, “but if you need any kind of help I can give you, I'll do it.”
“You're a good listener,” I said. “Thanks. We'd better be going now.”
We passed out of Death Alley without, incident and made our way along Harbor Road over to Vine. The sun was getting ready to set as we headed upward, and the cobbles passed 'through a variety of bright earth tones and fire colors. Street and pedestrian traffic was light. Cooking smells drifted on the air; leaves. rattled along the road; . a small yellow dragon rode the air currents high overhead; curtains of rainbow light rippled high in the north beyond the palace. I kept waiting, expecting more questions from Coral than the few she had asked. They never came. If I'd just heard my story, I think I'd have a lot of questions, unless I were totally overpowered by it or somehow understood it thoroughly.
“When we get back to the palace..?” she said then.
“Yes?”
“...You will take me to see the Pattern, won't you?”
I
laughed.
.. . Or unless something else were occupying my mind.
“Right away? First thing in the door?” I asked.
“Yes.
“Sure,” I said.
Then, that off her mind, “Your story changes my picture of the world,” she said, “and I wouldn't presume to advise you...” ,
“But—” I continued.
“...If seems that the Keep of the Four Worlds, holds the answers you want. Everything else may fall into place when you learn what's going on there. But I don't understand why you can't just do a card for it and trump in.”
“Good question. There are parts of the Courts of Chaos to which no one can trump because they change constantly and cannot be represented in a permanent fashion. The same applies to the place where I situated Ghostwheel. Now, the terrain around the Keep fluctuates quite a bit, but I'm not positive that's the reason for the blockage. The place is a power center, and I think it possible that someone diverted some of that power into a shielding spell. A good enough magician might be able to drill through it with a Trump, but I've a feeling that the force required would probably set off some psychic ; alarm and destroy any element of surprise.”
“What does the place look like, anyway?'' she asked.
“Well...,” I began. “Here.” I took my notebook and Scripto from my shirt pocket and sketched. “See, all of this area is volcanic.” I scribbled in a few fumaroles and wisps of smoke. “And this part is Ice Age.” More scribbles. “Ocean here, mountains here...”
“Then it sounds as if your best bet is to use the Pattern again,” she said, studying the drawing and shaking her head.
“Yes.”
“Do you think you'll be doing it soon?”
“Possibly.”
“How will you attack them?”
“I'm still working on that.”
“If there's any sort of way that I can help you, I meant what I said.”
“There isn't.”
“Don't be so sure. I'm well trained. I'm resourceful. I even know a few spells.”
“Thanks,” I said. “But no.”
“No discussion?”
“Nope.”
“If you change your mind...”
“I won't.”
“...Let me know.”
We reached the Concourse, moved along it. The winds grew more blustery here and something cold touched my cheek. Then again...
“Snow!” Coral announced, just as I realized that a few middle-sized flakes were drifting past us, vanishing immediately when they hit the ground.
“If your party had arrived at the proper time,” I observed, “you might not have had your walk.”
“Sometimes I'm lucky,” she said.
It was snowing fairly hard by the time we reached the palace grounds. We used the postern gate again, pausing on the walkway to gaze back down over the light-dotted town, half screened by falling flakes. I knew she kept looking longer than I did, because I turned to gaze at her. She appeared-happy, I guess-as if she were pasting the scene in a mental scrapbook. So I leaned over and kissed her cheek, because it seemed like a good idea.
“Oh,” she said, fuming to face me. “You surprised me.”
“Good,"I told her. “I hate to telegraph these things. Let's get the troops in out of the cold.”
She smiled and took my arm.
Inside, the guard told me, “Llewella wants to know whether you two will be joining them all for dinner.”
“When is dinner?” I asked him.
“In about an hour and a half, I believe.”
I glanced at Coral, who shrugged.
“I guess so,” I said.
“Front dining room, upstairs,” he told me. “Shall I pass the word to my sergeant-he's due by soon-and have him deliver it? Or do you want to—”
“Yes,” I said. “Do that.”
“Care to wash up, change clothes..?” I began, as we walked away.
“The Pattern,” she said.
“It would involve a lot more stairs,” I told her.
She turned toward me, her face tightening, but saw that I was smiling.
“This way,” I said, leading her to the main hall and through it.
I didn't recognize the guard at the end of the brief corridor that led up to the stair. He knew who I was, though, glanced curiously at Coral, opened the door, found us a lantern, and lit it.
“I'm told there's a loose step,” he remarked as he passed me the light.
“Which one is it?” He shook his head.
“Prince Gerard's reported it several times,” he said, “but no one else seems to notice it.”
“Okay,” I said. “Thanks.”
This time Coral didn't object to my going first. Of the two, this was more intimidating than the stairway on the cliff face, mainly because you can't see bottom and after a few paces you can't see much of anything beyond the shell of light within which you move as you wind your way down. And there's a heavy sense of vastness all about you. I've never seen the place illuminated, but I gather that the impression is not incorrect. It's a very big cavern, and you go round and round and down in the middle of it, wondering when you'll reach the bottom.
After a time, Coral cleared her throat, then, “Could we stop for a minute?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said, halting. “Out of breath?”
“No,” she said. “How much farther?”
“I don't know,” I replied. “It seems a different distance each time I come this way. If you want to go back and have dinner, we can see it tomorrow. You've had a busy day.”
“No,” she answered. “But I wouldn't mind your holding me for a minute.”
It seemed an awkward place to get romantic, so I cleverly deduced that there was another reason, said nothing, and obliged.
It took me a long while to realize that she was crying.
She was very good at concealing it.
“What's the matter?” I finally asked.
“Nothing,” she replied. “Nervous reaction, maybe. Primitive reflex. Darkness. Claustrophobia. Like that.”
“Let's go back.”
“No”
So we started down again.
About a half minute later I saw something white near the side of a lower step. I slowed. Then I realized that it was only a handkerchief. A little nearer, however, and I saw that it was held in place by a dagger. Also, there were markings upon it. I halted, reached out, flattened it, and read. “THIS ONE, DAMN IT! -GERARD,” It said.
“Careful here,” I said to Coral.
I prepared to step over it, but on an impulse I tested it lightly with one foot. No squeaks. I shifted more weight onto it. Nothing. It felt fine. I stood on it. The same. I shrugged.
“Careful, anyway,” I said.
Nothing happened when she stepped on it either, and we kept going. A little later, I saw a flicker in the distance below. It was moving, and I guessed someone was doing a patrol. What for? I wondered. Were there prisoners to be tended and watzhhed? Were certain cave mouths considered vulnerable points? And what about the business of locking the chamber of the Pattern and hanging the key on the wall near the door? Was there some possible danger from that quarter? How? Why? I realized that I ought to pursue these questions one of these days.
When we reached the bottom the guard was nowhere in sight, however. The table, the racks, and a few foot lockers-which constituted the guard station-were illuminated by a number of lanterns, but the guard was not at his post. Too bad. It would be interesting to ask what the orders called for in the event of an emergencyhopefully also specifying the possible natures of various emergencies. For the first time, though, I noticed a rope hanging down from the darkness into the dimness beside a weapons rack. I drew upon it ever so gently and it yielded, to be followed a moment later by a faint metallic sound from somewhere high overhead. Interesting. Obviously, this was the alarm.
“Which... way?” Coral asked.
“Oh, come on,” I said, taking he
r hand, and I led her off to the right.
I kept waiting for echoes as we moved, but none came. Periodically, I raised the light. The darkness would recede a bit then, but nothing came into view beyond an . additional area of floor.
Coral seemed to be slowing now, and I felt a certain tension in her arm as she hung back. I plodded on and she kept moving, however.
Finally, “It shouldn't be too much longer,” I said, as the echoes began, very faintly.
“Good,” she replied, but she did not increase her pace. At last the gray wall of the cavern came into view, and far off to my left was the dark opening of the tunnel mouth I sought: I changed course and headed toward it. When we finally reached it and entered, I felt her flinch.
“If I'd known it would bother you this much—” I began.
“I'm really all right,” she answered, “and I do want to see it. I just didn't realize that getting there would be this... involved.”
“Well, the worst of it is over. Soon now,” I said.
We came to the first side passage to the left fairly quickly and went on by. There was another shortly thereafter, and I slowed and extended the lantern toward it.
“Who knows?” I commented.. “That could take you through some strange route back to the beach.”
“I'd rather not check it out.”
We walked for some time before we passed the third opening. I gave it a quick glance. There was a vein of some bright mineral partway back in it.
I speeded up and she kept pace, our footsteps ringing loudly now. We passed the fourth opening. The fifth... From somewhere, it seemed I heard faint strains of music.
She glanced at me inquiringly when we neared the sixth passageway, but I just kept going. It was the seventh that I wanted, and when we finally came to it I turned, took a few paces, halted, and raised the lantern. We stood before a big metal-bound door.
I took the key down from the hook on the wall to my right, inserting it in the lock, turned it, withdrew it, and rehung it. Then I put my shoulder against the door and pushed hard. There followed a long moment of resistance, then slow movement accompanied shortly by a complaint from a tight hinge. Frakir tightened upon my wrist, but I kept pushing till the door was opened wide. Then I stood to the side and held it for Coral.
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