Just as I was settling in at the head of the table, Aber strolled through the door.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Hi,” he said. “Bad night?”
“Why does everyone keep asking that?” I said, thinking of both Horace and Port. “I couldn't have slept better.”
“You look awful.”
“I feel better, though.”
“That's good.”
I thought of Rhalla and hid my smile behind a bite of a honeyed roll. She, more than anything else, had to be responsible for my quick recovery. Nothing like love to raise a man's spirits.
Licking my fingers, I changed the subject. “Have you seen Dad this morning?”
“He's not back yet,” Aber said. He began heaping his plate with egg-shaped purple fruits, tiny pink berries, and some kind of stringy cheeselike dish.
“What! Are you sure?”
“I'm quite sure.”
I couldn't believe it. He must have returned—hadn't he sent Rhalla last night to tend to me?
And if he hadn't… who had?
Aber joined me at the table, taking the opposite seat. He seemed his usual cheerful self.
“He must be here,” I said firmly. “You missed him.” That had to be the answer.
“I checked this morning. I thought he might have used a Trump to get back late last night, but his bed hasn't been slept in, and neither the doors nor the guards saw him come or go. He hasn't come back.”
No audience with a king would last so long, I knew. Something had happened. Something had gone wrong.
Chapter 12
“I took a deep breath. “He's been gone too long.”
“Probably.”
“Aren't you concerned?”
“I am,” he said. “At least, a little.” He looked at me seriously. “You don't think he'd abandon us here, do you? I know he's not particularly fond of me, and I forced myself on you both for the trip here. But if he saw things going badly, do you think he'd run off into the Shadows and leave us here?”
“I don't know,” I admitted. After all, everything I'd grown up believing had been an elaborate lie. And he had lied to me repeatedly in Juniper. I thought he cared about me—about us all—to try to protect us. But would he abandon us if it was the only way to save himself?
I took another bite of my honeyed roll, trying to work through the problem. Our father had powers I couldn't as yet even imagine. He might be anywhere now, from just outside the dining room door to hidden in a secret castle a thousand miles away… or he might not even be on this world. He could just as easily be hiding on a different Shadow where no one would ever find him.
Would he abandon us? If things went badly, would he leave us sitting here, alone and unknowing, while he struck off on his own for safety?
I remembered all the trouble he had gone through to rescue me in Ilerium. It would have been safer to leave me there, to let me die at the hands of the hell-creatures. And yet he had risked his own life to rescue me—and the life of his favorite daughter, my half-sister Freda. Those were not the actions of a man who would abandon his offspring.
And yet, pressed for time, feeling threatened, I could also see him dumping Aber and me here. If he convinced himself we'd be safe in the Beyond—why not leave us here? He might be my father, and he might be a powerful sorcerer, but he had lied to me for the last twenty years about my life. Everything I'd ever believed about the universe had been wrong. I realized now that I didn't know him, not really, nor could I predict his actions.
Could he abandon us? Yes.
Would he abandon us? I didn't know.
“Besides,” Aber went on between bites as he dug into a plate of steak and eggs a servant set before him, “we don't know that anything happened to him.”
I said, “Then where is he?”
“Maybe he's visiting with friends at the court.”
“I thought he didn't have any.”
“Oh, he must have a few… even if they aren't openly supportive. Maybe he's trying to rekindle old alliances.”
“Did you try his Trump?”
“Are you crazy? The last time I did, he nearly bit my head off. I ruined some sort of delicate experiment. He made he swear I'd never do it again.”
I chuckled. “I made no such promises. After breakfast, I'll try to reach him.”
“Better you than me.”
“Maybe he found an old girlfriend after his audience…”
“More likely an old wife.”
I raised my eyebrows. “How many has he had?”
“By my count,” Aber said, “at last six from the Courts and two from the Beyond… though I've heard at least one wife didn't last out the wedding night, so perhaps she shouldn't count. And who knows how many in Shadows. Your mother among them, I assume?”
“Nope.”
“Bastard.”
I didn't ask which one of us; it was literally true in my case, figuratively true in Dad's, and on occasion entirely true of us both.
“When he gets back,” Aber said, “you can ask him for an exact count. Assuming he's kept track.”
I gave a snort. “He's lied to me my whole life. He's still lying to me, as far as I can tell. I can't trust anything he says.”
“True.” Aber shrugged. “Everyone in the family knows his hold on the truth is slippery at best. It's part of his charm.”
I sighed. “So we're back where we started. We don't know where he is, what happened during his audience with King Uthor, or when he might come home.”
He shrugged again. “That about sums it up. I don't think you ought to try to contact him yet, though.”
“If you have a better plan,” I said, “I'd like to hear it.”
“Unfortunately, I don't.”
After that, we ate in silence. I noticed Aber studying me from the corners of his eyes, and I began to shift uneasily in my seat. I had never enjoyed close scrutiny. It always made me nervous.
“All right,” I finally said, after putting up with it as long as I could. I set down my fork and looked straight at him. “You've been staring at me for ten minutes. What's wrong?” I patted the top of my head. “Am I sprouting antlers or something?”
“I keep thinking about that vision you had yesterday,” he said, “and how you killed the lai she'on guards. That sounds like a Logrus trick. And when the serpent knocked you back to your own body—he used primal Chaos.”
“What's that?”
“An essential force. It's dangerous to summon and hard to control, without practice and patience. It's something he would not have done except as a last resort.”
“Dangerous—how?”
“You can control it, up to a point, but it almost has a power and a will of its own.”
“Treacherous?”
“Yes. If it gets away from you, it will destroy everything and everyone it touches, feeding on death, growing larger all the while. If it gets big enough, it can destroy an entire Shadow.”
I gulped. “And the serpent threw this stuff at me?”
“Luckily your physical form wasn't there. You would be dead now.” He studied my face. “Clearly he fears you. That trick with the Pattern… what other powers might you have, I wonder?”
I gave a dismissive wave. “None that I know of.”
“Maybe you should try to master the Logrus,” he mused. “If you could control it…”
“Thanks, but no.” I shook my head. I knew without doubt that the Logrus wouldn't work for me. “I think Dad told the truth when he said the Logrus would kill me if I tried to enter it. I'm not willing to risk it.”
“I could speak with the keeper on your behalf. Maybe he has a different test. If he thinks you can safely enter the Logrus, why not try it? After all, you said Dad lied to you about everything. Maybe he lied to you about the Logrus, too.”
“I'm not ready to try it.”
He shrugged. “It was just an idea.”
“Don't get me wrong, I appreciate it. I'm just not ready t
o risk my life yet.”
“Fair enough.” Wiping his mouth on a napkin, he pushed his plate to the side. A serving girl whisked it away. “You look better. Are you up for a trip outside?”
“You mean here? Or a visit to King Uthor's court?”
“Here. We'll take it slowly. What do you say?”
I hesitated. Something made me want to say “No,” but I finally nodded.
“I'll give it a try.”
After all, I couldn't hide indoors for the rest of my life. If Chaos was to be my new home, I'd have to get over my fears. How bad could it be?
He gave a nod. “Good.”
I finished my own meal in a few bites, but Aber seemed in no hurry to leave. I sat back, and all the questions in the back of my mind began to pour out. I actually felt sorry for my brother as I began to grill him about the house (five floors, 186 rooms at last count—though apparently it fluctuated according to the season), what had happened those three days I'd been unconscious (not much—our father had gone out periodically to meet with friends and allies, returning only to check on me and grab a few hours of sleep), and the nature of Chaos (which seemed even more confusing the longer he talked about it).
“Maybe we should pay King Uthor a visit…” I suggested, as my questions ran out.
“He would never grant the likes of us an audience.”
“You never know. And even if we don't get to see him, we might learn something… like where Dad's being held.”
He looked surprised. “Do you think he's been arrested?”
“I don't know. We ought to find out, though. Even if he hasn't been arrested, he might be in danger. I don't think he'd abandon us here willingly.”
“King Uthor might arrest us if we go poking around.”
“Why? We don't know anything, nor have we done anything wrong.” Suddenly I grinned. “Or have you been holding out on me? Are you and Dad involved in a conspiracy against the crown?”
He pulled a sour face. “You know better than that.”
“I didn't think so. But it would have made things simpler. I could turn you both in, claim my reward, and take over the family lands and titles.”
“Spoken,” Aber said bitterly, “like a true member of our family. Unfortunately, it's never going to happen. Dad knows better than to trust me with a conspiracy. I'd end up spilling the whole plan to the first person who asked.” He shook his head. “I've never been terribly good at keeping secrets. That's more Freda's department.”
“Freda? I would have guessed Blaise…”
“Blaise likes to brag too much to keep secrets well. Freda, though…”
“What about her?”
“She used to help Dad with his experiments. She'd never say what they were doing together. It drove Locke and Blaise crazy!” He chuckled, eyes distant, as he remembered happier times. “They both thought they were missing out on something grand. But no matter how much they begged, Dad wouldn't let them into his workshop.”
I smiled at my mental image of a frustrated Locke and Blaise. They, along with Freda, had been locked in a struggle for top position in our family. All three of them thought much too highly of themselves, as far as I was concerned.
“And you loved it,” I said.
“Yes!” He laughed. “You would have, too, I think.”
“Oh, I know I would have.”
He cleared his throat. “Getting back to the problem at hand… Even if we knew what illicit activities Dad was involved in, I don't think turning him in would help us at this point. Our enemies want us dead… dead to the last member of our family.”
“True,” I admitted. “But we're not really in a position of strength now. With strong allies, we might be.”
“Well,” Aber said after a thoughtful pause, “if I wanted to ally myself with someone strong, I'd start with King Uthor.”
“You're assuming he's not behind the attacks.”
“Do you think he might be?” he asked in surprise.
I shrugged. “I don't know enough to decide one way or another. I can only say the hell-creatures—”
“Lai she'on,” he said.
“—who searched our house looked a lot like the ones guarding Taine in my vision. And they looked like the hell-creatures who invaded Juniper and Ilerium.”
He gave a dismissive wave of his arm. “All the lai she'on look much the same. They are bred for it.”
“We aren't talking about facts, we're talking about possibilities. Just take it for granted that King Uthor is behind the attacks on our family for a minute. Where does that leave us?”
“If that's true,” he said, “we're really screwed. King Uthor is the most powerful man anywhere. If he's our enemy, we might as well line up and let him slit our throats.”
“Don't be fatalistic.”
“Easy for you to say. You don't know what you're talking about. Or what we would be up against. On the other hand, I don't believe he's behind the attacks.”
“No? Why not?”
“Because he wouldn't need to be sneaky about them. He could simply proclaim us enemies and order our deaths. Chaos is more than a place… it is a power. Unleashed it in its primal form, it can devour whole worlds.”
I shrugged; it sounded like an exaggeration to me, but I had no way to judge. “All right. Let's consider the other possibility… what if it isn't King Uthor behind the attacks?”
“Then he'd have every reason to protect us. We are, after all, loyal subjects.”
“Exactly! Now, what if—by not firming up our alliance with him—we miss the chance to save our family and ourselves?”
“You argue too well,” Aber complained. “You almost make it sound possible.”
“It is possible.”
He sighed. “King Uthor would take one look at me and either burst out laughing or eat me alive. He doesn't need allies… allies need him.”
“You never know until you try.”
“I think we're better off staying away from court.”
“Any particular reason?”
“No… it's just a feeling I have.”
“King Uthor has no cause to arrest us,” I pointed out. “Neither you nor I have done nothing wrong. And we have a good reason for going—to look for our father. Who can argue with that?”
“I can,” he said. “Think about it. What if the attacks have all been part of a blood feud? In which case, he'd have every right to kill us out of hand just for showing up and annoying him.”
I mulled that over. “It can't be so easy for him to kill people. Kings don't slaughter nobility. They wouldn't be kings very long if they did.”
He shifted uneasily. “Well, no. Technically, he'd have to follow court etiquette. You'd be insulted, then challenged to a duel by one of his champions.”
“And killed?”
“How good are you with a trisp?”
“A what?”
He chuckled. “I thought so. It's a traditional weapon, kind of like a cat's claw, but larger, and its blades extend. You attack with a trisp and defend with a fandon—which, I assume, you've also never used?”
“A fandon? No, I've never seen or heard of it.”
“You haven't missed much. Except for tradition, I think everyone would have abandoned them centuries ago in favor of swords.”
“So I'd be killed with a trisp?”
“Sliced to bits.” He chuckled grimly. “Me too, for that matter. I can never keep my fandon up properly. The way the stones move—”
“Wait!” I said. “Stones? That move?”
“Right. You stand on them. They float, but they respond to subtle movements of your feet. Up, down, left, right—you keep your stone moving and keep your opponent off balance.”
“You're making all this up,” I said accusingly. Weapons I'd never heard of—and now we had to fight on floating stones?
He shrugged. “It's true. There are traditional ways of doing everything here. Dueling with trisp and fandon is the recognized way to settle disputes.”
Despite my skepticism, he did not seem to be joking with me. Maybe these weapons were real after all. I mulled over the possibilities. Fighting in mid-air with weapons I'd never used before… I wouldn't stand a chance. Maybe a visit to King Uthor's court should be held back as a last resort.
I remembered our father's phenomenal skills with a blade, then Locke's offhand comment that Dad wasn't terribly good by Chaos standards. What tremendous fighters must these Lords of Chaos be!
“Come on,” Aber said, rising. “First let's see what happens when you go outside. I'm tired of being locked indoors. Fresh air will do us both some good. And maybe Dad will show up in the meantime.”
I had no choice but to agree, so I rose and followed him. With an unerring sense of direction, he passed through a maze of hallways that seemed to twist in upon themselves. Finally our passage dead-ended at a heavy wooden door, which he pushed open.
I stared through the doorway at a broad, sand-covered courtyard. On the other side, a hundred yards away, rose a stone wall perhaps thirty feet high. The wall extended to either side as far as I could see, apparently circling the house. Guards in uniform patrolled the top of the wall, and more guards drilled with swords and shields fifty yards to the right, at the far edge of the courtyard. The steady tramp of boots and the ring of steel on steel, of sword on sword, made it a familiar, welcome sound.
Then I made the mistake of looking up. Ye gods! The sky unnerved me—if sky you could call something that churned like a storm-tossed sea. Twisting colors, a splash of drifting stars, sudden spikes of blue lightning, and half a dozen moons all moving in different directions made my head swim. Gazing upon it sent waves of nausea and dizziness through me, and against my will I felt my body start to drift. The roar of phantom winds rose to fill my ears.
“Hey!” I heard a distant voice shouting. “Oberon! Look at me! Oberon!”
It was Aber. I forced my attention to him and focused on his concerned face. Grabbing his arm, I steadied myself. I felt sick, off balance, disoriented.
“I hear you,” I said. “The sky…”
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