The Chronicles of Amber

by Roger Zelazny

  But on the other hand, I had to try, since he seemed to expect it of me, and I couldn’t tip him off as to any gaps in my memory. So I stooped, squatted, grasped, and started to straighten my legs. With a sucking sound, the rear wheels freed themselves from the moist earth. I was holding my end of the car about two feet above the ground! It was heavy, damn! it was heavy!—but I could do it!

  With each step that I took, I sank about six inches into the ground. But I was carrying it. And Random was doing the same with his end.

  We set it down on the roadway, with a slight jouncing of springs. Then I took off my shoes and emptied them, cleaned them with swatches of grass, wrung out my socks, brushed off the cuffs of my trousers, threw my footgear into the rear seat and climbed back into the front, bare footed.

  Random jumped in, on the passenger’s side, and said, “Look, I want to apologize again—”

  “Forget it,” I said. “It’s over and done with.”

  “Yes, but I don’t want you to hold it against me.”

  “I won’t,” I told him. “Just curb your impetuosity in the future, when it involves life-taking in my presence.”

  “I will,” he promised.

  “Then let’s get rolling,” and we did.

  We moved through a canyon of rocks, then passed through a city which seemed to be made entirely of glass, or glass-like substance, of tall buildings, thin and fragile-appearing, and of people through whom the pink sun shone, revealing their internal organs and the remains of their last meals. They stared at us as we drove by. They mobbed the corners of their streets, but no one attempted to halt us or pass in front of us.

  “The Charles Forts of this place will doubtless quote this happening for many years,” said my brother.

  I nodded.

  Then there was no roadway whatsoever, and we were driving across what seemed an eternal sheet of silicon. After a while it narrowed and became our road, and after another while there were marshes to our left and our right, low, brown, and stinking. And I saw what I’d swear to be a Diplodocus raise its head and stare down upon us. Then, overhead, an enormous bat-winged shape passed by. The sky was now a royal blue, and the sun was of fallow gold.

  “We’ve now got less than a quarter tank of gas,” I commented.

  “Okay,” said Random, “stop the car.”

  I did this and waited.

  For a long time—like maybe six minutes—he was silent, then, “Drive on,” he said.

  After about three miles we came to a barricade of logs and I began driving around it. A gate occurred on one side, and Random told me, “Stop and blow your horn.”

  I did so. and after a time the wooden gate creaked upon its huge iron hinges and swung inward.

  “Go on in.” he said. “It’s safe.”

  I drove in, and off to my left were three bubble-headed Esso pumps, the small building behind them being one of the kind I had seen countless times before, under more ordinary circumstances. I pulled up before one of the pumps and waited.

  The guy who emerged from the building was about five feet tall, of enormous girth, with a strawberry-like nose, and his shoulders maybe a yard across.

  “What’ll it be?” he asked. “Fill ’er up?”

  I nodded. “With regular,” I said.

  “Pull it up a bit,” he directed.

  I did, and asked Random, “Is my money any good here?”

  “Look at it,” he told me, and I did.

  My wallet was stuffed with orange and yellow bills1 Roman numerals in their corners, followed by the letters “D.R.”

  He grinned at me as I examined the sheaf.

  “See, I’ve taken care of everything,” he said.

  “Great. By the way, I’m getting hungry.”

  We looked around us, and we saw a picture of a gent who sells Kentucky Fried Chicken in another place, staring down at us from a big sign.

  Strawberry Nose sloshed a little on the ground to make it come out even, hung up the hose, approached, and said, “Eight Drachae Regums.”

  I found an orange note with a “V D.R.” on it and three more with “I D.R.” and passed them to him.

  “Thanks,” he said, and stuffed them in his pocket. “Check your oil and water?”

  “Yeah.”

  He added a little water, told me the oil level was okay, and smeared the windshield a bit with a dirty rag. Then he waved and walked back into the shack

  We drove over to Kenni Roi’s and got us a bucket full of Kentucki Fried Lizzard Partes and another bucket of weak, salty tasting beer. Then we washed up in the outbuilding, beeped the horn at the gate, and waited till a man with a halberd hanging over his right shoulder came and opened it for us. Then we hit the road again.

  A tyrannosaurus leaped before us, hesitated for a moment, then went on his way, off to the left. Three more pterodactyls passed overhead.

  “I am loath to relinquish Amber’s sky,” said Random, whatever that meant, and I grunted back at him.

  “I’m afraid to try it all at once, though,” he continued. “We might be torn to bits.”

  “Agreed,” I agreed.

  “But on the other hand, I don’t like this place.”

  I nodded, so we drove on, till the silicon plain ended and bare rock lay all about us.

  “What are you doing now?” I ventured.

  “Now that I’ve got the sky, I’m going to try for the terrain,” he said.

  And the rock sheet became rocks, as we drove along. There was bare, black earth between, After a while, there was more earth and fewer rocks. Finally, I saw splotches of green. First a bit of grass here and there. But it was a very, very bright green, of a kind like yet unlike that common on Earth as I knew it.

  Soon there was much of it.

  After a time there were trees, spotted occasionally along our way.

  Then there was a forest. And what a forest!

  I had never seen trees such as this, mighty and majestic, of a deep, rich green, slightly tinged with gold. They towered, they soared. They were enormous pines, oaks, maples, and many others which I could not distinguish. Through them crept a breeze of fantastic and lovely fragrance, when I cracked the window a bit. I decided to open it all the way and leave it like that after I’d had a few whiffs.

  “The Forest of Arden,” said the man who was my brother. and I knew he was right, and somehow I both loved and envied him for his wisdom, his knowledge.

  “Brother,” said I, “you’re doing all right. Better than I’d expected. Thank you.”

  This seemed to take him somewhat aback. It was as if he’d never received a good word from a relative before.

  “I’m doing my best,” he said, “and I’ll do it all the way, I promise. Look at it! We’ve got the sky, and we’ve got the forest! It’s almost too good to be true! We’ve passed the halfway point, and nothing’s bugged us especially. I think we’re very fortunate. Will you give me a Regency?”

  “Yes.” I said, not knowing what it meant, but willing to grant it. if it lay within my powers.

  He nodded then and said, “You’re okay.”

  He was a homicidal little fink, who I recalled had always been sort of a rebel. Our parents had tried to discipline him in the past, I knew, never very successfully. And I realized. with that, that we had shared common parents, which I suddenly knew was not the case with me and Eric, me and Flora, me and Caine and Bleys and Fiona. And probably others, but these I’d recalled, I knew for sure.

  We were driving on a bare, dirt roadway through a cathedral of enormous trees. It seemed to go on forever and ever. I felt safe in the place. Occasionally, startled a deer, surprised a fox crossing or standing near the road. In places, the way was marked with hoofprints. The sunlight was sometimes filtered through leaves, angling like tight golden strings on some Hindu musical instrument. The breeze was moist and spoke of living things. It came to me that I knew this place, that I had ridden this road often in the past. I had ridden through the Forest of Arden on horseback, walk
ed through it, hunted in it. lay on MV back beneath some of those great boughs, my arms beneath my head, staring upward. I had climbed among the branches of some of those giants and looked down upon a green world, constantly shifting.

  “I love this place.” I said, only half realizing I had said it aloud. and Random replied. “You always did.” and there might have been a trace of amusement in his voice. I couldn’t be sure. Then off in the distance I heard a note which I knew to be the voice of a hunting born.

  “Drive faster,” said Random suddenly. “That sounds to be Julian’s horn”

  I obeyed.

  The horn sounded again, nearer.

  “Those damn hounds of his will tear this car to pieces, and his birds will feed on our eyes!” he said. “I’d hate to meet him when he’s this well prepared. Whatever he hunts, I know he’d willingly relinquish it for quarry such as two of his brothers.”

  “‘Live and let live’ is my philosophy these days,” I remarked.

  Random chuckled.

  “What a quaint notion. I’ll bet it will last all of five minutes.”

  Then the horn sounded again, even nearer, and he remarked, “Damn!”

  The speedometer said seventy-five, in quaint, runic numerals, and I was afraid to go any faster on that road, And the horn sounded again, much nearer now, three long notes, and I could hear the baying of hounds, off to the left.

  “We are now very near to the real Earth, though still far from Amber,” said my brother. “It will be futile to run through adjacent Shadows, for if it is truly us that he follows. he will pursue us. Or his shadow will.”

  “What shall we do!”

  “Speed. and hope it is not us that be follows.”

  And the horn sounded once again, almost next to us this time.

  “What the hell is be riding, a locomotive?” I asked.

  “I’d say he is riding the mighty Morgenstern, the fastest horse he has ever created.”

  I let that last word roll around in my head for a while, wondering at it and wondering at it. Yes, it was true, some inner voice told me. He did create Morgenstern, out of Shadows, fusing into the beast the strength and speed of a hurricane and a pile driver.

  I remembered that I had call to fear that animal, and then I saw him.

  Morgenstern was six hands higher than any other horse I’d ever seen. and his eyes were the dead color of a Weimaraner dog’s and his coat was a light gray and his hooves looked like polished steel. He raced along like the wind, pacing the car, and Julian was crouched in his saddle—the Julian of the playing card, long black hair and bright blue eyes. and he had on his scaled white armor.

  Julian smiled at us and waved, and Morgenstern tossed his head and his magnificent mane rippled in the wind, like a flag. His legs were a blur. I recalled that Julian had once had a man wear my castoff garments and torment the beast. This was why it had tried to trample me on the day of a hunt, when I’d dismounted to skin a buck before it.

  I’d rolled the window shut once more. so I didn’t think it could tell by scent that I was inside the car. But Julian had spotted me, and I thought I knew what that meant. All about him ran the Storm Hounds, with their tough, tough bodies and their teeth like steel. They too had come Out of Shadow, for no normal dog could run like that. But I knew, for a certainty, that the word “normal” did not really apply to anything in this place.

  Julian signaled us to stop then, and I glanced at Random and he nodded. “If we don’t, he’ll just run us down,” he said. So I hit the brakes, slowed, stopped.

  Morgenstern reared, pawed the air, struck the earth with all four hooves and cantered over. The dogs milled about, their tongues hanging out, their sides heaving. The horse was covered with a glistening sheen that I knew to he perspiration.

  “What a surprise!” said Julian, in his slow, almost impeded way of speaking and a great hawk that was black and green circled and settled upon his left shoulder.

  “Yes. isn’t it,” I replied. “How have you been?”

  “Oh, capital,” he decided, “as always. What of yourself and brother Random?”

  “I’m in good shape,” I said, and Random nodded and remarked, “I thought you’d be indulging in other sports at a time like this.”

  Julian tipped his head and regarded him crookedly, through the windshield.

  “I enjoy slaughtering beasts,” he said, “and I think of my relatives constantly.”

  A slight coldness worked its way down my back.

  “I was distracted from my hunt by the sound of your motor vehicle,” he said. ”At the time, I did not expect it to contain two such as you. I’d assume you are not simply riding for pleasure, but have a destination in mind, such as Amber. True?”

  “True,” I agreed. “May I inquire why you are here, rather than there?”

  “Eric set me to watching this road,” he replied, and my hand came to rest upon one of the pistols in my belt as he spoke. I had a feeling a bullet couldn’t breach that armor. though. I considered shooting Morgenstern.

  “Well, brothers,” he said, smiling, “I welcome you back and I wish you a good journey. I’ll doubtless see you shortly in Amber. Good afternoon,” and with that he turned and rode toward the woods.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here,” said Random. “He’s probably planning an ambush or a chase,” and with this he drew a pistol from his belt and held it in his lap.

  I drove on at a decent speed.

  After about five minutes, when I was just beginning to breathe a bit easily, I heard the horn. I pushed down on the gas pedal. Knowing that he’d catch us anyhow, but trying to buy as much time and gain as much distance as I could. We skidded around corners and roared up hills and through dales. I almost hit a deer at one point, but we made it around the beast without cracking up or slowing.

  The horn sounded nearer now, and Random was muttering obscenities.

  I had the feeling that we still had quite a distance to go within the forest, and this didn’t hearten me a bit.

  We hit one long straight stretch, where I was able to floor it for almost a minute. Julian’s horn notes grew more distant at that time. But we then entered a section where the road wound and twisted and I had to slow down. He began to gain on us at once again.

  After about six minutes, he appeared in the rear-view mirror, thundering along the road, his pack all around him, baying and slavering.

  Random rolled down his window, and after a minute he leaned out and began to fire.

  “Damn that armor!” he said. “I’m sure I hit him twice and nothing’s happened.”

  “I hate the thought of killing that beast,” I said, “but try for the horse.”

  “I already have, several times,” he said, tossing his empty pistol to the floor and drawing the other, “and either I’m a lousier shot than I thought, or it’s true what they say: that it will take a silver bullet to kill Morgenstern.”

  He picked off six of the dogs with his remaining rounds, but there were still about two dozen left.

  I passed him one of my pistols, and he accounted for five more of the beasts.

  “I’ll save the last round,” he said, “for Julian’s head, if he gets close enough!”

  They were perhaps fifty feet behind me at that point, and gaining, so I slammed on the brakes. Some of the dogs couldn’t halt in time, but Julian was suddenly gone and a dark shadow passed overhead.

  Morgenstern had leaped over the car. He wheeled then, and as horse and rider turned to face us I gunned the engine and the car sped forward.

  With a magnificent leap, Morgenstern got them out of the way. In the rear-view mirror, I saw two dogs drop a fender they’d torn loose and renew the pursuit. Some were lying in the road, and there were about fifteen or sixteen giving chase.

  “Good show,” said Random, “but you’re lucky they didn’t go for the tires. They’ve probably never hunted a car before.”

  I passed him my remaining pistol, and “Get more dogs,” I said.

&nbs
p; He fired deliberately and with perfect accuracy, accounting for six.

  And Julian was beside the car now, a sword in his right hand.

  I blew the horn, hoping to spook Morgenstern, but it didn’t work. I swerved toward them, but the horse danced away. Random crouched low in his seat and aimed past me. his right hand holding the pistol and resting upon his left forearm.

  “Don’t fire yet,” I said. “I’m going to try to take him.”

  “You’re crazy,” he told me, as I hit the brakes again.

  He lowered his weapon, though.

  As soon as we came to a halt, I flung open my door and leaped out—barefooted yet! Damn it. I ducked beneath his blade, seized his arm, and hurled him from the saddle. He struck me one on the head with his mailed left fist, and there were Roman candles going off all around me and a terrible pain.

  He lay where he had fallen, being groggy, and there were dogs all around me, biting me, and Random kicking them. I snatched up Julian’s blade from where it lay and touched his throat with its point.

  “Call them off!” I cried. “Or I’ll nail you to the ground!”

  He screamed orders at the dogs and they drew back. Random was holding Morgenstern’s bridle and struggling with the horse.

  “Now, dear brother, what do you have to say for yourself?” I asked.

  There was a cold blue fire within his eyes, and his face was without expression.

  “If you’re going to kill me, be about it,” he said.

  “In my own good time,” I told him, somehow enjoying the sight of dirt on his impeccable armor. “In the meantime, what is your life worth to you?”

  “Anything I’ve got, of course.”

  I stepped back.

  “Get up and get into the back seat of the car”, I told him.

  He did this thing, and I took away his dagger before he got in. Random resumed his own seat, and kept his pistol with the single remaining round aimed at Julian’s head.

  “Why not just kill him?” he asked.

  “I think he’ll he useful,” I said. “There is much that I wish to know. And there is still a long way to travel.”