To Rule in Amber (25 page)

I followed his pointing finger. Ulyss had paused in mid attack. In the air before him hung a shadow. It had no fixed shape, and its center was as dark as a raincloud. It pulsed ever so faintly.

"Pull back!" I shouted to Ulyss, but the dragon could not hear me.

Instead, it breathed gouts of fire at the shadow. That did no damage that I could see. If anything, the shadow grew larger. Then, like a panther springing onto its prey, the shadow surged forward. It completely enveloped the dragon. I saw Ulyss's wings paused in mid downstroke, but the dragon did not fall.

Instead, the dragon began to scream. The terrible soul-rending noise cut through the air like a knife. It went on and on, growing louder, tearing through my head, tearing through my heart. I covered my ears, and still it went through me. I had never heard such a horrible sound before. It made me want to curl into a ball and die.

The scream came to an abrupt stop. As I watched with growing horror, the dragon seemed to crumble to dust. In a second it simply disappeared, its few remains swept away by the wind.

The Shadow drifted through the air for a second, as though no hand guided it. Then, slowly and

inexorably, it drifted toward Conner and me.

"What
is
that thing?" I asked uneasily, starting to back away.

"Primal Chaos, under a master adept's control." Connor also backed up. "This would be a good time to leave, I think. Use a Trump. Call Freda. She can bring us back to Amber."

"I'm not leaving without my troops." I had gone through too much to get them; I wouldn't just abandon King Aslom and his men to be slaughtered - not as long as other options remained. "What else can we do?"

"Kill the one casting the spell."

"I can't see him. And I don't think we have time to go hunting."

He hesitated. "Dad or Freda might be able to counter it. Try Freda. Just do it fast!"

Keeping one eye on the shadow - which had definitely gotten larger since destroying the dragon -

I pulled out Freda's Trump and concentrated on her image.

She answered immediately.

"Is something wrong?"

"We're having trouble with Primal Chaos. Conner says a master adept is controlling it. It just killed our dragon, and now it's heading for us."

"What does it look like?"

"A cloud. It's in the sky."

"Move it to another Shadow," she said.

I blinked. "Can we do that?"

"Of course. Tell Connor to use a - oh, give me a second. I had better do it." She turned and spoke to someone over her shoulder, then reached toward me. I took her hand and pulled her through.

She took one look at the Shadow and said, "Hmm!" Then she turned and strolled away at an almost leisurely pace, her head bowed. I noted a Trump in her left hand, but I could not yet tell what it showed.

The Shadow became a seething, writhing cloud. It glided toward the three of us, faster now, three hundred yards away and closing rapidly.

My uneasiness grew. Someone had to be controlling it… but who? And from where? He had to be watching us to send it right at us.

I glanced around camp. My men had stopped in the midst of their packing to stare up at it, awe and horror mingling on their faces. They too recognized it as something evil.

"Bring me a bow!" I called.

"Here, Oberon!" One of the archers leaped forward, offering his.

"Thanks."

Notching an arrow, I drew back as far as I could, turned quickly, and fired into the cloud. Once

- twice - a third time. The arrows entered it one after another, disappearing from sight; they did not come out the other side. Like the dragon's fire, they had no effect.

I swallowed. Then I backed up a few more feet, getting behind Freda. I didn't want to be in the path when she let loose whatever magic she'd been working.

What could I do to help? I hated waiting. It made me feel powerless.

I scanned the bushes and trees surrounding our camp. Maybe I could spot the sorcerer manipulating the cloud. I figured he had to be watching us to direct it so precisely.

As I turned toward the mountain behind us, sunlight glinted off something - a silver buckle or maybe a button - among the scraggly pines. From that vantage point, whoever it was had a perfect view of us.

I caught Conner's arm. "The wizard is hiding in the woods behind us. Watch for a reflection.

There! See it?"

"Yes!" he said. He drew his sword.

"Wait." I marked the spot mentally, then turned back toward the cloud. A hundred yards away, it drifted steadily toward us.

Calmly I nocked another arrow and took aim. Then, instead of firing into the shadow, I wheeled and shot at the figure hidden in the trees. He was two hundred yards distant, but I knew my own strength, and I could hit a target that far away.

I followed that first with five more in rapid succession, covering a spread perhaps four feet across.

I don't know if I hit him or not, but I'd like to think so. The arrows certainly broke his concentration. Even as I loosed my last shot, I heard Conner suck in a quick breath.

"Oberon!" he said in a warning voice.

I glanced toward the shadow. Twenty yards away, it had stopped moving toward us. Suddenly it began to swell rapidly outward, twenty feet across, then thirty -

"Can you stop it?" I said, backing up. "Freda?"

Whatever the shadow touched turned black and crumbled to dust. The ground - our tents -

stacks of weapons -

My sister remained silent, but her face had grown hard. Her lips moved; she raised both her hands, one pointed directly toward the cloud, the other angling a Trump toward her face.

That Trump showed the Courts of Chaos. Somehow, she had opened the image on the card.

Like the cloud, it seethed with dark movements. The stars in its sky moved. The buildings shimmered and swayed. Lightning flickered across the landscape, occasionally striking out through the card with little flickering tongues of light.

"Like drawn to like!" she commanded. She extended the card toward the still-expanding cloud, and as its forward edge touched her palm, her whole body seemed to flicker in and out of existence. For an instant I saw blue threads stretching from her hand toward the shadowy Primal Chaos, touching it, wrapping around it, pulling it toward her. But instead of turning her to dust, the cloud flowed along her arm, to the Trump, through it, and out of sight - back to the Courts, if that's where it had come from. I really didn't care, as long as it went away.

When the last of it had disappeared, Freda sagged. I leaped forward and caught her before she hit the ground.

"Well done!" I said.

"Did it work?" she murmured, eyes half closed.

"Yes," I said. "It's gone. Thanks."

She smiled then passed out.

"Take her back to Amber!" Conner said grimly. "I'll get our men home."

"Are you sure?" I asked,

"Yes. Hurry, before anything else happens!"

Without waiting for an answer, he sprinted toward our troops, bawling orders. Everyone shouldered packs and reformed into lines four abreast for a quick march. The cavalry lined up next to them.

I shifted Freda to my left arm and rumbled out my deck of Trumps one-handed. Finding the courtyard Trump, I used it to get us back to Amber.

Servants rushed to greet me, calling welcomes. Some held basins of water and towels to clean the dust of travel from our hands and faces; others bore trays with cups and flagons of wine, and still others carried platters laden with succulent-looking sweetmeats, pastries, and other delicacies.

"Shall I get a physician?" one of the stewards asked in a quiet voice. He motioned for two others to take Freda from my arms. They carried her toward the finished wing of the castle.

"Yes," I said. "Hurry!"

"Very good, Sire." He turned and ran.

A small army of architects, stonemasons, and several army officers appeared as if on cue -

apparently it didn't take long for word of my return to Amber to spread. They all clamored for answers to pressing questions.

"Later!" I promised. Pushing past them, I followed after Freda. I had to see to her first.

They carried her into the great hall. Work continued apace, I saw as I glanced around hurriedly: stonemasons were carefully laying out an intricately-patterned slate floor, full of red and blue interlocking circles.

Without a word, they carried Freda swiftly past and up the corridor toward the wing that housed our quarters. We passed a dozen rooms before coming to one with furniture: a divan, several low tables, and three comfortable-looking armchairs.

They set my sister on the divan and raised her feet, placing pillows behind her head and spreading a light blanket across her lap.

Suddenly her eyelids fluttered and opened. She glanced around, apparently confused.

"Feeling better?" I asked, kneeling beside her.

"A little." She tried to sit up. I helped, fluffing more pillows and placing them behind her back.

She seemed more physically exhausted than injured - working that spell had taken a lot out of her.

More servants, trailing after us, brought in silver trays laden with silver cups and pitchers, teapots, and still more pastries and intricately arranged fruits.

"Put everything down and go." I motioned toward the tables. To the steward, I said: "Ask our father to join us. He is still in the castle, isn't he?"

"I am not sure, Sire," he said.

"Find out." If he wasn't here, I'd have to contact him by Trump.

"Yes, Sire." Bowing, he scurried off.

I investigated the trays. One pitcher held cool water. The rest held an assortment of wines. I wanted something stronger, but wine would do in a pinch. First, though, I poured Freda a cup of hot, sweet-smelling tea. She looked like she needed it.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Sugar and cream?" I asked.

"Please."

I added both to her cup and passed her a spoon. She stirred, eyes distant.

"Aber betrayed us," I said heavily.

"What!" she focused on me, clearly alarmed. "What did he do now?"

I told her about King Uthor's death and how my brother had vanished after relaying the message from Lord Zon. She looked distinctly unsettled.

"It must be a mistake, somehow," she said. She sipped her tea gently, brow furrowing. "Use your Trump and call him. He must explain himself."

"I'm sure he will," I said. Doubts crept into my mind. "I will have to talk to him… yes. It can't have been him."

"There may yet be another explanation."

"Such as?"

"Someone from the Courts may have impersonated him. Chaos is full of shapeshifters, remember.

You have that talent yourself."

"The possibility occurred to me," I admitted. I poured myself a glass of the red wine and drained it in a single long gulp. Aber's parting comment still echoed in my mind. "Our brother has a certain…
style

, let us say, all his own. He betrayed me. I have no doubt about it. I
know
him."

"Then he must have had a good cause."

"Something secret, but heroic?"

"That must be it," I said.

Freda looked at me oddly. "Do you feel well?"

"Never better. Why?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Has… has Aber given you anything lately? A ring or a pendant, perhaps?

Something you carry with you always?"

"Just my Trumps. Why?"

"Let me see them."

I pulled out my deck. Before I could flip through them and pull out the newest ones, she took them from my hands and set them on one of the small tables. She raised her hands over them, closed her eyes, and murmured softly for a second.

"What is it?" I asked.

"A few spells," she said. "Simple charms to make you like him."

I snorted. "He doesn't need charms for that. I've always liked him."

She made a small gesture with her left hand, then picked through the Trumps, setting five of them aside. Aber had given two of them to me in Juniper, one in the Beyond, and two in Amber.

"These are the ones," she said, "that have charms laid upon them. Two make you like him. One makes you trust him. One makes you forgive him. I am unsure what the fifth does… perhaps it gives him the benefit of the doubt whenever his actions are questioned."

"I don't understand… why would he need to charm me?"

"Because," Freda said, looking me in the eye, "he betrayed you and tried to kill you."

"I'm sure he had good reasons for what he did," I said stubbornly. "Aber wouldn't do that to me.

Lord Zon must have forced him to do it."

She shook her head. Then she reached out and touched my forehead with the thumb of her right hand.

"See clearly," she told me. "Be well."

The room swam dizzily. I blinked and steadied myself on the arm of the chair.

Like a veil being lifted, I saw Aber clearly for the first time… the petty manipulations… the betrayals… the lies. He betrayed King Uthor, then left me there to die. The truth hit me like a blow.

"Oberon?" Freda asked.

"The next time I see him, I'm going to kill him," I said grimly. "I can't believe he cast spells on me.

What a fool I've been!"

"Not a fool…" she murmured. "You must understand Aber. He grew up in the Courts of Chaos, where betrayal is a way of life. He is very good at what he does."

I shook my head. "I can never forgive him."

"Nor should you," she said. She paused. "And yet… are you sure it was him?"

"What do you mean?"

"We know of at least two doubles… one of you and one of Father. Perhaps there is a double of Aber as well. One who is working for Lord Zon."

"No." I shook my head. "I know my brother. It was Aber, all right."

She shook her head sadly, bit her lip, looked away. She knew he had betrayed us.

"I'll leave you to discover his reasoning," I said. "If I ever see him again, I'll have to kill him. And it's not something I want to do, damn it!"

Her gaze met mine. I recognized an icy resolve in her eyes.

"I will find out," she promised. "Believe me, if he has done this thing, he will come to regret it."