Chaos and Amber

by John Gregory Betancourt

  "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 thought 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.

  Our father, meanwhile, had finished his walk around the perimeter of the Pattern. He was nodding and mumbling to himself, gesturing in the air as if trying to do complicated calculations.

  Standing, I climbed onto the immense flat rock and walked around its edge, avoiding the Pattern, to join him.

  "Well? Can you destroy it?" I asked.

  "That is not the problem," he said in a low voice, so Aber wouldn't hear. "It is only sand lying on top of the stone. It was… never meant to be permanent. The next one must be."

  "Sand?"

  I looked down at the Pattern; it looked like a solid gold ribbon on top of the rock. I reached out to touch it, but he caught my wrist.

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  "To walk its length, you must start at the beginning. To enter anywhere else would kill you."

  "I wasn't going to walk it," I said. "I just wanted to see what it's made of."

  "Do not touch it."

  "Dad?" Aber called. "Oberon?"

  "What?" Dworkin said sharply.

  "We've been followed!"

  I followed my brother's pointing finger to see a line of hell-creatures- lai she 'on- entering the grassland three hundred yards away. They wore full armor. Some carried pikes; two held red banners aloft, both of which blazed with a dragon crest. They advanced steadily on us.

  "King Uthor's men," Dworkin said. He looked at Aber. "You brought them here!"

  "No!" he cried. "They must have followed me! I didn't know-"

  "Get me a staff," he said. "Then you both must keep them at bay as long as you can. I will do the rest."

  "A staff…"Aber said.

  He used the Logrus to reach into the air, feeling distantly for something. Then he pulled a wooden pole from mid air. It was a little bit longer than four feet from end to end-about the same height as Dworkin-and it looked familiar. With a measure of horror, I realized it was the pole that had held King Elnar's head in Ilerium after hell-creatures had killed him. My king's head had been ensorcelled… it had spoken to me and called me a traitor. Aber must not have realized where the pole had been, or what had been done to it.

  Aber tossed the pole over to me, and with a shudder, I handed it to our father. We didn't have time to get another one.

  Without hesitation, Dworkin turned and began to walk counter-clockwise around the Pattern, tapping his staff upon the stone, speaking words I could not understand. Magic, I assumed. Every now and then he gestured and waved the pole.

  A wind suddenly came up, stirring the grass, then flattening it as it began to gust. Clouds appeared overhead, obscuring the sun. As darkness fell, lightning flickered like the tongues of serpents.

  King Uthor's army of hell-creatures, marching into the wind, ducked their heads and leaned forward. First one, then the other banner broke and went flying off into the sky. Still they trudged on, advancing steadily, pikes held ready

  I drew my sword.

  Aber grabbed my arm. "Come back with me!" he cried. He held up a Trump showing the main hall in our house back in the Courts of Chaos. "We can't stay here!"

  "We must!" I shouted. "Dad needs us!"

  The winds seemed to be circling the stone, faster and faster. They swept up dust and dirt and grass and trees. Screaming, I saw one then the other of our geldings fly past. I could no longer see through the wall of wind to where King Uthor's army had been-and I did not know how they could have survived it.

  I looked back to see what had become of Dad. He was still circling the Pattern, in the opposite direction of the wind. In the center of the stone, a golden whirlwind blew. As it touched the Pattern's lines, it swept away the sand, scouring the stone clean.

  As the Pattern disappeared, I felt the stone underfoot begin to move. Surging up and down, like a boat on an ocean, I felt myself drifting.

  Aber threw back his head and laughed, and I saw the true nature within him let loose.

  "Feel it!" he cried. "Feel the power! Feel the strength of Chaos returning! This is what it must have felt like before the Shadows came!"

  "No!" I screamed back, the howl of winds wild around me, noise in my head and blinding colors in my eyes. Beyond the stone, through the winds, I saw… stars. Stars that whirled and flew like fireflies in the night. The land and the ocean had vanished. The trees and grass-King Uthor's troops-all had disappeared. Only the stone remained, floating like an island in a sea of nothingness. The madness beyond howled through my body.

  "This is the way it should be!" Aber said. He was in his element, a Lord of Chaos, born to revel in the constantly shifting universe. "Now and forever! Come back with me, Oberon! It's over! Dad has destroyed the Shadows!"

  He still held the Trump in one hand, and he held his other hand out to me. I took a step toward him, then stopped. I shook my head.

  "No," I said. "My place is here, with Dad. You go."

  He took a deep breath, then nodded. He looked down at the Trump… and vanished.

  Dworkin continued to circle the stone. Horrorstruck by the nightmare surrounding us, I could do nothing but cling to the hope that this was not the end, but the start of something new and greater.

  He reached me and held out the staff. I resheathed my sword, then took it.

  "Look!" I pointed.

  A tall white unicorn stood at the heart of the stone, her head raised defiantly high. A ruby dangled aro
und her neck on a silver chain. Occasional gusts of winds whipped her mane and tail, and when she turned her head, her eyes glinted deep red, like rubies, like the Jewel of Judgment.

  Dworkin saw the unicorn and grinned.

  "She is holding this place together for us!" he shouted. "We must begin! There is not much time!"

  "What must I do?"

  "Use your knife!"

  I drew it. He stuck out his arm.

  "Cut me!" he screamed over the howl of the wind. "Open my vein! Let the blood flow!"

  "No -"

  "Do it!"

  Taking a deep breath, I grabbed his wrist and gave it a quick slash-long but not deep. I did not want him to bleed to death. He must know what he was doing.

  Dworkin grimaced, but made a fist. With blood pouring down his arm and dripping from his fingertips, slowly and steadily he began to walk backward, leaving a trail of blood. As it fell on the bare stone, sizzling and crackling like fat on a hot griddle, a glowing blue line began to appear. It burned with an inner fire, like nothing I had ever seen before.

  I realized at once what he was doing… tracing a new Pattern, one that matched the Pattern within me, and within the Jewel of Judgment. He worked slowly and carefully, never slowing. And as he dripped blood, the Pattern burned deep into the stone.

  Slowly the winds died. The storm abated. Still he walked slowly and calmly backwards, trailing blood, shaping the design. When at last he finished, when he stood in the center of the Pattern next to the unicorn, a terrible calm like nothing I had ever felt before came over the world.

  Slowly, silently, Dworkin collapsed. In the blink of an eye, he was gone-and the unicorn with him.

  Then the ground underfoot began to rumble and heave. I lost my balance and fell, over the side of the stone, into a darkness that never seemed to stop.