After her talk with Kyril is finished, Solange leaves him in her room to continue to sleep. She opts not to sleep herself, but instead dons her old Lauderville University sweatshirt and a pair of jeans and pads barefoot down to the castle library, trump deck in hand.
The library is dark and quiet, perfect for what she wants to do: a formal trump reading and some intensive researching. (Hopefully the majority of the volumes have not been moved to Xanadu quite yet...)
When Solange enters, Brennan is already in the library, although at the precise moment of her entry, he's back among the stacks, out of view. He's combing the area for anything off the beaten track about Avalon, and he's looking for both material written by Corwin and material written by others; material written before the fall and if at all possible material written afterward.
As such, he does not immediately turn to see who else is there. When he does step into the open, it is, by accident, behind Solange and out of her field of view and Brennan is, nature, a man who moves silently. Unsure if he's distrubed her or not, Brennan waits until she finishes before going farther.
Solange lights a lamp and takes it with her to a table. She sits, composes her thoughts for a moment, then takes out her trumps and shuffles them. "Is my fate connected to the fate of the Floating Woman?" she asks, then deals out the cards in a formal reading.
Bottom row:
Brand
The Fool (reversed)
Death
Middle row:
The Priestess (reversed)
The Lion (reversed)
Top row:
The Smith
"No good can come of any reading with Brand in the past," Brennan starts, with what is for him cheery irony.
Solange draws in a sharp breath and looks up from the reading, startled.
His voice falls, and his head almost rears back as he steps close enough to see the rest. He sits down across from her without invitation, brow furrowed in concern. "Solange... who is this Floating Woman that provokes such a bleak reading?"
"Apparently you heard my query," she remarks, her face flushing more with embarrassment than anger. "Hello, cousin, and how are you?"
"I didn't mean to sneak up on you," he says. Then, in answer to her question, "Clarissa is taking an interest in her grandchildren, again," he says with a tight smile. "No good can come of that, either. But my last reading wasn't so grim as that."
Solange turns her attention back down to the table and frowns, her eyes flitting from card to card. "The Floating Woman is a ghost," she explains. "We had an...encounter."
"I see," Brennan says. "An encounter serious enough to have you looking for signs and portents. I've never tried to interpret a reading for a question I didn't understand. And who's we?"
Solange looks up. "Floaty Woman and me. We."
"I see. And so you came down here to the privacy of the library to do your reading?" By posture and expression, he's not going anywhere: He is completely at ease in the chair he's pulled up into Solange's tablespace, and except when studying the cards his eyes never leave hers. It is one of his few expressions that seems noticeably more influenced by Fiona than by Bleys.
He glances down at the first card she laid down-- Brand's-- and then back up at Solange.
"Isn't that what you're supposed to do in a library--reading?" Solange smiles, amused--It's a guarded smile, and she's looking at him and his sudden, unshakeable presence rather askance, but a smile nonetheless. "It's a convenient place and I intended to do some research afterwards."
Her eyes drift down to the table in the direction Brennan's took. "So why do you think no good can come of any reading that has Brand in the past?" she asks.
Brennan blinks, twice, at the question, and frowns. "Should we start with the new fault line running through the basement, the Black Road, or the means by which he accomplished those?"
"Sure, we all know what Brand did, but is that the sum of the man? I mean, well, I'm fairly sure the man had _some_ reedeming qualities--Ossian said he was kind to him, for example--so why shouldn't that extend to what he represents in readings as well?"
Brennan gives a smile tight enough to hold water.
Solange shrugs. "I concede that that's probably not the case here, but it was your use of the word 'any' that struck me."
"Ossian is my son," Brennan says. "Brand knew. He had decades or more to reveal that to either of us. Instead, it took Ambrose and I months to decode the only writings we know of that discuss it. Possibly not the best example you could have chosen. I'm given to understand he loved his mother." The smile becomes airtight.
Solange stares at him, incredulous, and struggles to find something to say. Absolutely, positively nothing comes to mind.
A moment later, Brennan gestures, negligently, brushing the topic away, and that expression he wears with it. "Not your fault. Floating Woman?"
Unsettled by his proclamation, Solange straightens and blinks. "Floating Woman. Yes. We had an encounter, as I said. I looked at her and she looked back at me and..." Solange trails off and shakes her head slowly. "She made mental contact across the distance somehow--not something I had any choice in the matter in, by the way--and examined me like a bug on a pin."
Brennan listens to that, not so much with skepticism, but with a critical interest. "Is this going to be a story you begin at the end, and then work in a logical progression through to the starting point?"
Solange is silent briefly, then taps the card of Brand. "The past. Her past, presumably, since it's certainly not mine. Do you remember ever seeing a woman with kinky red hair and big, luminous eyes?"
"I've seen a lot of curly-redheadheads in my time," Brennan says. "If you've a good hand, why not sketch her?" This is a library; there is a probability that suitable paper and implements are close at hand; therefore they are, and are provided to Solange.
"This is not really my thing," she cautions, but sets to the task doggedly anyway. Solange tentatively blocks out the figure of a woman in a white robe, feet not touching the ground and turned at the waist to gaze out from the page at the viewer. She pauses, then draws in long, curly hair framing the woman's face as if she was floating in water. The details of the face Solange leaves until last, and they are the hardest for her. Much erasing and redrawing ensues until she gives up with an exasperated sigh and hands the drawing to Brennan.
Large, bright eyes stare at him from a delicate face with an angled chin. The woman's small mouth is slightly open, as if in anticipation of the moment. Although iconish, Solange managed to convey the emotion on the woman's face with disconcerting accuracy: longing.
"Drawing her brought back more of the details," Solange says. "When I first saw her I remember feeling this wave of dread emanating from her. Dread and distance, as if she was far away...or maybe what she was searching for was far away...I don't know. She had her hands shading her eyes as she looked toward the horizon."
Brennan takes the drawing and looks at it for a long time, trying to place it. He runs a finger down the jawline before looking up, saying, "No one I've seen, not that I know of, but..." he scowls. "I don't know. She might be of Grandmother's line, somehow, or a relation. What color were her eyes? This contact-- I assume it wasn't like a Trump, or you'd have said so?"
Solange purses her lips in thought. "I don't know about the eye color--it was nighttime. I think they were brown.
[OOC: GMs, let me know if that color's not acceptable and I'll change it.]
"The contact...it had some similar qualities to trump, but it couldn't have been trump, for she wasn't holding a card. Unless you know that establishing a trump contact without needing to use the trump is possible?
"She established the connection with me by making eye contact."
"Brand managed to draw Trumps of people he'd never seen," Brennan says. "Who's to say if, seeing a person in front of him, he'd need one?" He shrugs. "I don't know, really. It's nothing I've ever heard of, but that doesn't mean anything.
"Where did all this happen? Here?"
Solange shakes her head. "Out in shadow." She taps the second card laid before Brennan can reply and ask her where out in shadow. "The Fool...I can see 'lack of connection,' what with the whole being-a-ghost thing and searching-for-someone thing. I don't know who she is seaching for, but I got the impression it's a woman."
"Where, out in Shadow? And why assume the card refers to her?" Brennan asks.
Brennan's comment gives Solange pause. "I don't think it applies to me--I'm not disconnected. Who do you think it applies to, then?"
"You didn't ask if you were connected or she were connected," Brennan points out. "You asked if your fate was connected to hers. This could be the blunt answer to that question: No.
"Where, out in Shadow?"
"You're right," Solange agrees, proverbially slapping her forehead. "That's a good lesson to me to not bring in presuppositions to something like this--they can blind you to the obvious. Well."
She looks over at Brennan. "I don't want to go into where--it's a personal thing and let's leave it at that."
"Disconnection," Brennan says.
Solange spreads her hands noncommittally and smiles.
"I've seen Death before representing the future--change is pretty common," she continues, "but I've not seen the Priestess before representing a virtue."
"Tonight might be a night for obvious interpretations, Solange: have you seen Death representing ghosts?"
She shakes her head. "No." Solange's expression turns troubled, and Brennan can see that this line of thought has distressed her on some level.
Brennan grunts. He had thought not. "So, continuing in the vein of the obvious, and bearing in mind your original question, that could also be another indication of the answer. And the cards do so love irony, it seems: If the Fool Reversed indicates the disconnection of the ghost you've encountered, and Death represents ghosts and more similar disconnection, the answer to your question could be yes, your fates are interconnected because you or someone clsoe to you is going to die and enter the same state of disconnection-- literally or figuratively."
She shakes her head, not wanting to entertain such an interpretation.
He looks back to the first card, then, saying, "And we really haven't settled on an interpretation for Brand, yet, other than No Good. Let's stick with obvious interpretations in the vein of death and disconnection: Brand is responsible not only for his own death, but the deaths of Oberon, Deirdre, and Eric in fairly direct fashion. He tried to be responsible for mine and Martin's. I suspect he had designs on any or all of Huon, Ysabeau, and Lucas, as well as perhaps Ossian and Paige. We're lucky we didn't add your father to that list. The motif behind all of these was betrayal and murder. You can see why Brand in a reading catches my eye-- especially one like this."
"Dáirich," Solange swears softly, with feeling. "That's very...dire, Brennan. What if...what if instead it's your first thought, that the Fool reversed is simply the answer 'no' to whether my fate is connected to hers. Then Death could also simply mean that that will change in the future--not necessarily by someone dying--and maybe Brand is just a reference to her lineage, that's she's related over on your side of the family somehow."
"Possibly," Brennan says. By which he means, "bullshit."
She's rather grasping at straws and she knows it. Solange sits back and runs a hand over her face.
"It's a ghost, a chance encounter with a ghost," she insists. "She's looking for someone, she measured me to see if I was that person, I was not, so she let me go and left. End of story."
Only it wasn't quite the end of the story, and Brennan can see this by the expression on her face and her body language. There are things that Solange is, and things that Solange is not, and a convincing liar Solange is not.
Brennan honors that pronouncement with the facial skepticism it deserves.
Solange pauses and looks up at Brennan. "Who the hell is Huon?"
"A long lost uncle," Brennan says. "Somewhere between Flora and Julian, as rumor has it, banished by Bleys' hand and Oberon's will. Ambrose found a Trump of him in Brand's effects which led to a long list of questions."
Brennan settles back comfortably in the chair and temples his fingers. He might just as well be Bleys, in tone, posture, expression, and the intensity of the glitter of his eyes: "Now. Who the hell is Ysabeau?"
Solange draws in a breath and stares at her cousin. "Sister to Julian and Gerard. You know that," she says. "Who told you?"
"Caine," he says.
"Who would you go to if you found a Trump of a woman no one else was willing to acknowledge?" Brennan asks. "Caine has a long memory for unpleasant family history. Her Trump was another we found hidden among Brand's effects at our ancestral home in Shadow. Our working theory, to return to the theme of murder and treachery, is that Huon, Ysabeau and others were separated out as those he didn't want to be caught having contact with, for one reason or another. Both were banished, after all. Brand believed both were sufficiently out of contact that they would not be missed."
Brennan doesn't bother to explain further than that. The logic should be obvious.
"If Brand had chosen Ysabeau instead of Martin, I wouldn't be here," Solange replies quietly, also not bothering to explain further, knowing that Brennan will piece it together and come to the correct conclusion.
Brennan, clearly expecting something major, simply closes his eyes for a moment and nods. When he opens his eyes, the Elder mask is gone.
He finds Solange gazing at him.
A longing surfaces in Solange's features. "Do you have her trump on you? I should very much like to see it."
"Ambrose has the only one I know of; I haven't contested him for Uxmal or anything therein." Far from it, in fact.
Disappointment joins the longing and Solange lowers her head.
He takes a sheet of paper from the same bunch that Solange recently drew the floating woman on and begins to sketch.
While he's sketching, he continues, glancing at the Trump of Brand first. "What the Brand card says to me now is not just death and betrayal, but also its own special kind of disconnection. Through malicious inaction, he disconnected Ossian and I quite exquisitely." When he looks up at Solange for a moment the Elder mask in all its classic cold fury and wrath is back. "And here, you seem to have some similar disconnection with Ysabeau. It seems unwise to ignore the possibility that your mother had some part to play in this, or was at least, herself, connected to it. Past, present and future seem to be drawing a very consistent theme."
With that, he's finished with his own sketch, which is a nearly mechanical reproduction of the Trump he saw some time ago, only bigger. It's an illustration of a tough looking blonde woman in brown and green, and whatever expression is on her face is the one from Brand's sketch of her. He looks at it, next to Solange for a moment, and says, "You have her hair, and something of her chin, I think."
Then he frowns at it, narrows his eyes, and hands it to her. Waiting.
Solange takes the sketch and studies it. She smiles tentatively at the woman looking back at her. "Ysabeau was a wild one, so I hear. Wanted to be a Ranger, but Oberon and Corwin wouldn't hear of it."
Brennan's eyebrow twitches at the mention of the Rangers. He doesn't press it.
Solange looks from the sketch to the trumps in front of her and idly taps the Priestess reversed. "After being exiled, Ysabeau ran way to the Isles and became a goddess. Father said that she discovered immense power there and became corrupted by it."
She taps the Lion reversed next. "She died giving birth to me, as Rilga died giving birth to her. Some weakness in the line, I guess. As a result, I've resolved never to get pregnant."
A fleeting smile passes over her lips, then is gone.
"Brennan, may I keep the sketch?" Solange asks.
He's surprised she felt it necessary to ask. Mildly: "Please. When I see my brother, I'll ask him his plans for it."
He thinks for a while, the space of three slow breaths. "We bring our experience to the cards, I know, and sometimes badly. But you were separated from your mother. She was banished by her father. I exiled myself from Brand's presence, and the Family; in return, he cut me off from Ossian, and I don't even know why he's still alive...." he cuts that off with a slashing hand gesture-- that's neither here nor there. "Could this woman be searching for a child, or a parent?"
"My guess would be child, but it's just a guess," Solange replies.
It's rhetorical. He turns his attention to the second rank of cards. "Priestess, reversed. Stand-in for a Goddess?" He almost chuckles, but doesn't. "Brand styled himself a god, too."
"You're creeping me out, finding all these parallels between my life and yours," Solange states, though Brennan can tell she's accepting of it and even mildly amused. "Variations on a theme, perhaps. We'll have to corner a cousin from yet another branch of the family sometime and compare notes."
"We bring our own experience to the cards," Brennan says again, "and in this case, my presence might have pulled the cards to those things we both have in common with this woman."
"Those two middle cards fit Ysabeau very well. I've really no idea what they represent here and now, though. Maybe it's a reference to me in some way?"
Solange sighs.
Brennan looks up at Solange, again surprised that she's not seeing the obvious interpretation of the Fault card. So he just reaches out and taps the Lion, reversed. "Gerard." Maybe she didn't want to see it.
She frowns. "Yes, I can readily see the Lion reversed standing for Father, you're right. It's the position it's in that I'm having problems accepting.
"Maybe I'm working under a faulty presupposition. The two middle cards are a virtue and fault, respectively from the left, that apply to the situation, correct?"
"I think I could've asked a clearer question of the cards than I did. Maybe 'Who is the Floating Woman?' would have been easier to interpret."
"I don't think I've seen many good readings that didn't result in someone wanting to have asked a different question."
That gets a very unladylike snort from Solange.
Responding to her earlier question, Brennan says, "That's the standard interpretation, yes, a Virtue and a Fault. I've seen Cambina refer to them as The Competitors. How she applies that... well, I haven't seen her interpret enough readings to really understand it.
"What they mean here..." he shrugs. "Those two are always tricky. The bottom row always seems obvious, while the middle row always seems to be trying to tell me about a blind spot. What are your blind spots, Solange?" Brennan is aware this is an imponderable question.
She chuckles at the apparent impossibility of Brennan's request and sits back, thinking as she looks out across the dark library. After a brief moment she replies, "My obsession to fix Father's legs probably qualifies, which would fit with him there as Fault. I was actually investigating a possibility when I met Floating Woman.
"If the Lion reversed is Father, then I find I want to attribute the Priestess reversed to Ysabeau. There's a certain contrasting symmetry there that I find satisfying--Ysabeau my then parent and Gerard my now parent, Ysabeau mother and Gerard father, Ysabeau a chaotic force and Gerard a stable force--I could go one but you get the idea. Perhaps that's narrow thinking on my part?"
"That's what you didn't want to tell me? That you were looking for a way to help Gerard?" This evidently surprises Brennan.
Solange colors and shifts her position. She stays silent, obviously troubled.
"It does seem an awfully convenient way to look at the situation. If that's true, though, what would it mean in this context?"
Solange frowns. "Going along with the idea that the Virtue card stands for an affirmative answer or influence in regard to the situation and the Fault a negative, then Ysabeau would denote establishing or strengthening a connection between Floaty Woman and me and Gerard would represent a way to weaken or abolish it."
Brennan started scowling as soon as Solange started fidgetting, and maintains the scowl. "Maybe. The correspondances are there, but not perfect. Ysabeau, as dead parent, could correspond to strengthening a tie with ghosts. Gerard, as alive, could correspond to weakening that connection, with his weakened state just making that more obvious. But that doesn't give you any advice unless you assume that because Ysabeau is in the virtue position, that's what you should do."
"If I was the trump cards, I'd put Ysabeau in the Fault..." Solange trails off as she notices Brennan's expression.
He looks Solange dead in the eye, and says, "or maybe it means that whatever it is you were trying to do about Gerard, you ought not to do."
"...and put Gerard in the Virtue..." She trails off again and lowers her gaze.
"Doesn't matter," she states after a moment. "It was a dead end, pun unintended, and I'm back where I started--always back where I started. I am so...utterly...tired...of that."
Another moment passes and Solange looks back up, her expression closed. "The Smith. Nice card, a creation card. Perhaps indicating that because of my connection with Floaty Woman, some deed will be done, some condition will come to pass, or some work will be completed that could either greatly benefit or greatly harm. Or, backing up a bit and taking a more inclusive and direct route, taking the path that leads through Ysabeau will result in a good outcome from whatever work is completed, and taking the path that leads through Gerard will result in a bad outcome."
She doesn't point out to Brennan that what she just said about Gerard echoes what he just said about Gerard, but she knows she doesn't need to. She colors and shifts again.
"Or," Solange continues, "it can be interpreted literally, but I don't know any smiths."
"...No," Brennan says slowly, but he's not answering her question. "We're not done with the second rank, yet. It bothers me that both are reversed, next to each other." He holds his hand out flat, about three inches above the Competitors for a moment, and his fingers twitch just a little bit. They do the same thing when he is deep in a chess match against a skilled opponent in the last seconds before a decision.
Then, decisively, he scoops up both cards and castles them, as it were. "This is what you want," he says, placing the Lion, upright, in the Virtue position, letting the corner of the card snik down against the table, "and this is what you think you have," placing the Priestess, again upright, in the Fault position. "What does it mean, now?"
Solange looks at Brennan a little askance at his unorthodox methods, then back down at the cards. She says nothing for a moment.
"Tell me about the Isles, Solange. It seems critical to the reading, given Ysabeau's and Gerard's origins, and Ysabeau's fate."
Solange draws in a breath and lets it out slowly. "Father told me that there are the Isles, where Grandmother Rilga was from and where Vere grew up, and the mainland, where the Witch-Queens live. When Ysabeau came to the Isles after being exiled, Father said she went to the mainland--apparently there were rules she had to follow in the Isles to be a goddess, but on the mainland she could do what she wanted with her power--and did.
"War broke out between the mainland and the Isles. Julian and Gerard took up arms on behalf of Rilga's people to protect them against the Witch-Queens and their new goddess, Ysabeau. The three of them came to parley eventually, after much bloodshed had already ensued, and agreed all three to leave and not return.
"Some vestige of the war still continues, though, and Vere is there fighting in Gerard's stead. Father said he could not go back, for there was no place in the Isles for a crippled god and they would expect him to voluntarily go under the knife of the priestess and sacrifice himself."
Here, Brennan murmurs "Sacrifice" and touches Brand's card lightly.
"He said that in the Isles, the sacrifice is voluntary. On the mainland, it's compulsary--for the men, that is. I don't know about the women. It's a matriarchal society, with all that implies.
"Robin was there not long ago and had some trouble...I think the way the Pattern manifests itself there is askew, or wrong. I don't know the details, but it may have been something she did."
Here, Brennan frowns.
She shrugs marginally. "That's the sum of my knowledge about the Isles. I've not been there myself. I plan to go someday--Ysabeau is buried there and I'd like to visit her grave."
Solange reaches out and taps the Lion thoughtfullly. "Brennan, I know you have more experience at these readings than I do, so let me ask you this. Why would the trumps pick the Lion--reversed or not--to represent Father? Why not use his trump? It's in my deck."
"If I'm your expert on Trump readings, you're doomed," Brennan says. "I hate the damned things, and muddle through readings on hard analytical technique. To answer your question, though, it could be any number of reasons. It could be just to put Gerard on the same level as Ysabeau, so to speak, since you don't have a Trump of her. Or it could be representing the more general principles of Isles religion, feminine and masculine. If it's that, it's an indication that something is in serious imbalance, with both principles reversed. Which is a conclusion I could reach even without this business of bad Pattern manifestations." Again, the scowl. "Whatever the hell that means.
"Or, it could refer to your sister and your brother, somehow. If Vere is there now, I'm sure Robin is, too." Brennan looks up at Solange.
Solange looks up at Brennan sharply at the same time. "She told you?"
"No," Brennan says. "Family resemblances through and through. You both look more like Ysabeau and each other than anyone else." He glances up briefly in the direction of his own hairline. "Then you tied her to the Isles, deeply, in a fashion touching on Power, but without giving a reason why she'd be there alone. Too many coincidences.
"For what it's worth, I don't think anyone who hasn't seen Ysabeau or an image of her could start to figure it out. If it's a secret, you have principally Ambrose to worry about. And all your Aunts and Uncles."
Solange shrugs. "I don't think it's a Big Deal, it's just that--in Robin's case--it was a secret that wasn't mine to give. I don't know how she feels about people knowing. Will you talk to her about it next time you see her? I don't want something like this coming as a big surprise at the most inconvenient moment, which is what will happen otherwise."
"I have no motive to say anything or do anything about this; it just helps to know if I'm supposed to be keeping quiet about it," Brennan explains. "And, no, Robin does not seem to deal well with surprises. I cannot reasonably ask Ambrose about that Trump, though, without explaining why I-- or more accurately, you-- want it."
"If Ambrose knowing I'm Ysabeau's daughter is the price I pay to have the trump, I'll pay it gladly. He doesn't need to know about Robin at all," Solange replies.
Brennan nods: understood.
"There's a story there," Solange says, sitting back and looking at Brennan. "The first time I saw Ambrose he was under Dara's influence at the coronation. The next time I saw Ambrose, he was hanging with Random. What happened in the middle?"
"Long story," Brennan says. "Let's finish this first," he says, gesturing to the card spread before them.
She sighs deeply and returns to the cards. "Your suggestion that the middle cards stand for the general principles of the Isle religion, or even Vere and Robin themselves, is an interesting one. I was planning already to contact Vere later and ask him about Floaty Woman. Ghosts are more in his purlieu than mine."
Brennan stares at Solange as she says that.
"So far, all of the interpretations for the middle cards have pointed back to the Isles in one fashion or another. Are there any other explanantions for them?" Solange asks. "I almost feel that we've projected too much of me and my past into the reading."
"Sure. Take a straight line, unimaginative reading: The Priestess is abirdge between the mundane and the spiritual world. If that doesn't bring up images of ghosts and spirits, nothing will. Reversed, it means that bridge is broken, somehow. And if this woman is searching for something-- someone, as you say-- then read the card as meaning that she's lost or losing or should lose her connection with the physical world. If you want to connect your fate to hers, find her what she's looking for." Brennan puts the Priestess back into her original location and orientation.
"And the Lion indicates physical strength and more importantly, physical health and health of the body. Reversed, it means illness or weakness, but it could also be read as the extreme opposite, or death of the physical body. We already used Death," Brennan touches that card, "so this would be a bit on th redundant side. But we are asking about your possibel connections to a ghost." Brennan puts the Lion back in its original condition, as well.
Solange frowns and shakes her head. "That doesn't feel right to me."
"I think the Isles connection has too many good interpretations going for it, though. How could it be otherwise, if it's your reading, your fate to be connected with this woman's, and your background leads straight to the Isles? Especially when you're telling me second hand that something is metaphysically wrong with the place, that another of Ysabeau's girls is there and may have caused it, and that Gerard's boy is also there, and has some previously unmentioned affinity with ghosts, himself. And what is this about Vere and ghosts, anyhow?" Brennan asks.
Solange looks mildly surprised that Brennan doesn't know. "Vere sees dead people."
Brennan blinks. Several times. "He what, now? All the time?"
"If they're around, I believe so," Solange replies, smiling at his bemusement. "He can talk to them. If you want to know details, you'll have to ask Vere."
"That's... interesting," Brennan says. "Sees ghosts. Talks to ghosts. Vere."
"You know, when you switched those cards and put them right-side-up, they struck me as very representative of the Isles--not necessarily as Virtue and Fault, but more as Competitors, as two sides of the issue," Solange continues. "The woman Priestess that delves into mysteries and the man Lion that is more concerned with the everyday issues of living. The woman Priestess that sacrifices and the man Lion that's sacrificed. The woman Priestess that rules, and the man Lion that's ruled."
Brennan nods at this. "That sounds like a good description of many places, or at least the lore of many places. If the Isles are close to Amber, it could be that they were a place where the themes manifested with a particular force in local reality--"
Then he breaks off, and rolls his eyes. "If upright those cards represent the Isles, then from what you say, reversed they could represent the Mainland." He sounds fairly disgusted that it took him that long to work out something that is, in retrospect, so simple. If Solange said the same thing earlier, it didn't penetrate until just now.
Solange smiles. "That's not a bad call."
"You suggested earlier that the middle cards reversed could also represent Robin and Vere. Is it a common occurrence for a card reversed to stand for that person's children?"
"I hadn't thought about it that way. I was suggesting that the priestess could represent Robin, who is reversed, and the Lion could represent Vere, who is reversed. Although..." Brennan's gaze falls inwards, as he thinks about something. "Now, how would Marius relate to a hypothetical child of..." His eyes snap back to the present. "Interesting. But if that's the interpretation, then you fit both of those slots as both Ysabeau's and Gerard's daughter."
She smiles again. "So I do, as long as the reverse part only refers to being a child. I don't think that's it, though.
"Marius...?" Solange prompts.
"I don't really think that's it, either," Brennan says, "but I'm hardly the expert. You'd want to ask someone like Cambina, or Paige, or Reid if you can find him. And Marius," he says, "does not seem to figure in this reading. But Deirdre, reversed, did appear in a recent reading I took in Paris, with Corwin and Cambina. By the reversal-is-offspring theory, that wuld put Marius in a key position, but I think her simply being dead fits better."
Not, perhaps, as much information as Solange hoped for, but Brennan did answer the question. She nods and sits back.
"We've covered a lot of ground here, talked about a lot of different interpretations--especially for those two pesky middle cards--and ones involving the Isles do seem to fit the reading best," Solange says. "Are we ready to move on to the top card now?"
"Probably as ready as we'll ever be," he says. "When I see it, these days, I think of a particular Smith, Weyland, who also appeared in my last reading. In my reading, the signifigance seemed obvious. Here... I don't know. He could simply be the archetypical force of hands-on creativity. It's the only card in your spread that doesn't speak to me of disaster or darkness, but that's because it's on its side."
"Who's Weyland Smith?" Solange asks.
"Weyland the Smith, I think," Brennan says. "Forger of Werewindle and Greyswandir, according to those who are in a position to know. Possibly dead, since his card came up reversed, although I have a hunch it means he's under some threat of it, since it was a rather... martial reading. In any case, out of touch for a very long time."
Solange blinks. "Humph. Maybe he's coming up because there's a new pattern and it's time to create a blade to go with it. Sort of a fate thing."
Brennan gives a smirk, and says, "I'd have been quite pleased to have him show up in the capstone position of my own reading. But I said the Smith implies Weyland to me, because he was the topic of my most recent query, and because I am now in the business of finding him and rousting him from wherever he's been hidden.
"It's probably a mistake to take the Smith as Weyland here, unless you have some reason for it. Without all my nattering about windles and wandirs, what does the Smith imply to you, in your context? Or in the context of the Isles, since that's where the Fault and Virtue seemed to point you?"
"Oh, I meant coming up in your reading, not here. I messed up on my tense," Solange clarifies and shrugs. She attends to Brennan's question. "Fixing father's legs?" she suggests almost immediately.
This is followed by a moment of silence as she ponders other interpretations, after which she shakes her head. "I'm not coming up with anything else. I...I have been rather single-minded lately," she apologizes.
"Not surprising," Brennan says, "especially if that's what you were about when you met this ghost of yours." He steeples his fingers together again in front of his mouth and thinks a bit. "If the original question dealt with the Isles specifically, I know how I'd interpret that-- with Fate as the question between creation and destruction. From what you've said, your mother took up a goddess/priestess position in the Mainland and its style," he says, tapping the Priestess card, "and then died, possibly leaving a spiritual lack in the Mainland as well. Gerard is weakened and not present there, either," he taps the Lion card.
"The whole milieu there seems to be shot through with sacrifices," he touches Brand's card, "either voluntary in the Isles," he says with a straight face, "or not, in the Mainland. Robin," he lightly touches the Priestess again," tells you that something is wrong with manifestations of the Pattern there, possibly as a result of something she did, which sounds dire enough that it may be a sign of something happening there as it did in Avalon, and it might in Arcadia-- the ultimate disconnection," he touches the Fool, "which can only lead to death and suffering in the future," he touches Death.
"Then there is the Smith," he touches that card, "in the Fate position, neither reversed nor upright, meaning that there are great efforts being spent there, the outcome of which we do not know. There was war in the past between Ysabeau, Gerard, and Julian, and local forces. There is, apparently, still war going on there. There is something wrong with the place, but also some unspecified great power up for grabs. The question of the Isles seems to be, is all this effort well spent? Or does it all end up with the Isles going down the drain? This reading seems to tell you everything that's wrong with the place," he touches the Priestess and the Lion," and by inference, how to fix it. But here's the problem: for all the clarity of that reading, it does not say a damned thing about you, your ghost, or your connection to it.
"Except that Vere," he tentatively touches the Lion, "sees dead people," he touches Death, "and our suspicion that our ghost is cut off from whoever she speaks by treachery or betrayal," he touches the Fool and Brand again in rapid succession.
"You asked if your fate was connected to the Floating Woman's fate. I think your answer is, 'Yes, definitely,' and that connection is, somehow, tied to the Isles. Is that where you were when this happened?"
"No," Solange shakes her head. "I've never been to the Isles." There's no guile there--she's telling the truth. "Fascinating conclusions, Brennan. They feel right on some level--or at least some of what we've talked about strikes a deep chord. I need to ponder this some more. And talk to Vere.
"I have to admit that I didn't really welcome your presence when you first sat down, but I'm glad you stayed."
She looks up at him and smiles.
"I grow on people," Brennan says, with mock sourness. "I think the reading would agree more with my reading if the Fate card were the Phoenix," he says, "so I'm not perfectly happy with my interpretation, yet. But i don't know that I'm going to get any further inspiration of it tonight."
He almost visibly packs the reading into a different mental corner, still working at it, but no longer really concentrating on it in the foreground of his mind.
"You asked about Ambrose," he says. "the short version of the story is that I brought him in from the cold."
Solange looks at him as she picks up her trumps. "Okay, you believe his conversion, otherwise he'd not have been at the funeral." It's an observation, but an observation that invites further explanation.
Brennan favrs Solange with an arch look. "I laid out a possible path to conversion for him, to which he agreed in principle, before I introduced him to Random. Whatever he said to Random was enough to convince the King to grant him access to the Family legacy."
Solange raises an eyebrow.
And Brennan raises one right back.
Solange laughs.
[I believe it's two eyebrows to Solange-- call, or raise again.]
Brennan raising both eyebrows only gets her laughing harder. Her cheek dimples.
Brennan does not have a third eyebrow to raise.
"I believe Dara was trying to use Ambrose, Ambrose was trying to use Dara, and the mess in the basement of Amber precluded both of those. The road from there to the confrontation in the Ballroom, however, eludes me."
She nods, then changes the subject as she puts her trumps away. "Are you staying in Amber long?"
"Doubtful," Brennan says. "I have a Smith to find, after all. It was lucky we ran into each other tonight-- I doubt I'll be here by tomorrow night."
"Lucky? I wonder," Solange muses. "The more I see, the less I believe in coincidence."
"I'm not a big believer in coincidence myself," he says, "but which is odder-- you and Vere seeing ghosts, or us being fated to meet here in the library tonight?"
"Perhaps the latter," Solange replies, giving him a wry grin. "We seem to have missed each other in our wanderings over the last few years. I think this is the longest conversation I've ever had with you."
"Probably," Brennan says. "The last I recall was at he Coronation, and if we spoke at Random's Mandatory Fun and Cocktail Hour, it must have been rather brief. We're probably just not in Amber at the same time and place. I gather your focus has been looking for cures for Gerard?"
She nods. "I've been looking for a technological solution to the problem and my wanderings have taken me through a number of hi-tech shadows. I found some nanotech that I thought might work but I had to leave the shadow...abruptly...before I could pursue it further."
Brennan raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to the side fractionally, waiting for an elaboration on that.
"The nanotechnology I found was developed by a black road manifestation in the shadow. The locals were very annoyed that I knew about it and tried to detain and question me." Solange makes a dismissive gesture.
"Father and Hannah are looking into more of a magical solution and that's the route Father's currently interested in taking. I'll go back to that tech shadow if the magical solution doesn't pan out.
"His injuries have me perplexed, Brennan. He's not healing. Well, it's like he healed to a certain point and stopped. I don't know if this is because the damamge was too extensive, or if there's something metaphysical going on, or what. I just don't know."
She pauses and runs a hand over her face. "It's taking a toll on him. I can tell. He's living with a lot of pain and his morphine consumption would knock out an elephant. I don't know how long he can do this. And that concerns me. Greatly."
"I'm sure you've heard this before," Brennan says, scratching his beard, "so I won't belabor the point, but be careful with those methods. Anything playing by local rules only isn't likely to be a good solution, unless it's something that has locally promoted Gerard's body to heal itself according to its own rules... which is an unlikely thing to stumble across in Shadow."
Solange nods. She's heard this all before.
"Not to mention the other problem with exotic solutions-- if they're solid enough to work everywhere you want them to work, you have to wonder exactly why that is," Brennan says.
"Agreed," Solange says, nodding. "What I wanted was to find something that would help Father heal himself, bypassing all those problems."
"Other than that, we're looking at objects like that silver arm Benedict supposed had for a while."
"Unlike the arm, though, there isn't anything to replace on Father's body--he still has his legs," she says.
Brennan doesn't bother to state the obvious. He just looks at Solange steadily until she understands.
She returns his gaze, her own stubborn and unyielding. "We're not cutting off his legs."
"Not until you see what happenes to Benedict's arm, at least," he says, mildly. "But they're not my legs. They're his legs."
"I didn't know about the morphine, though. If you've looked at the physical and you've looked at the metaphysical, have you looked at the psychological?" Brennan asks.
Solange frowns and slumps back in her chair. "I meet resistance when I try to talk to him about such things," she replies.
She pauses a moment, emotions passing over her face, torn between wanting to continue and thinking that Father and Vere would probably rather she kept this in the immediate family. Come to think of it, they probably would rather she not be talking about it at all.
Brennan snorts, unsurprisedly. "When you talk about the morphine, or the psychological?"
"Both, but the psychological mostly, lately. It's hard for him...the constant pain, the wondering why he hasn't healed and the resultant frustration, the pressure from us to find a solution... I don't want him to give up...and I'm concerned that he will, that he's starting to get...comfortable where he is."
Brennan nods. "But if he's fighting himself, somehow, for some reason, it would go a long way to explaining why there's been no improvement in five or six years."
"It would," Solange agrees softly.
Solange pauses and chews on the inside of her lip. "Fiona and Bleys...if they had thoughts on this, they'd talk to Gerard, wouldn't they?"
"I don't want to speak for Fiona or Bleys in this instance but... he's not Julian, is he? I'd think they'd say something, yes, and wait for him to pursue it. If you really want to know, ask them. I'll ask one or both for you-- I should probably speak with Bleys before my departure, anyway-- but I think that would be putting too many links of hearsay into the chain for your own peace of mind, yes?"
Solange frowns, then nods curtly. "I have their trumps. I can contact them myself. It's just that..." She trails off, trying to work out what to say, and her face flushes angrily.
"Dammit, it's just that no one seems to care. I haven't seen any of his brothers or sisters do a damn thing for him since they've been back, it seems like they're all caught up in their own problems, yet this is their brother and he was injured while protecting their home and their Pattern and he's a valuable asset to them and he would be even more valuable if he could walk again and he wants to be useful and have purpose and yet no one seems to be doing anything to help him and the burden of it is all left back on me and Vere and now Hannah and we're trying our best but it's not been good enough and why aren't they helping because they're much more knowledgeable and experienced and meanwhile Father slips a little more into complacency every day...and..."
She trails off again and looks away, color still high but with more embarrassment now than anger.
"And what's his reaction to you and Vere-- and now Hannah-- running around trying to help him?" Brennan asks.
Solange stares into the darkness. "Longsuffering, mostly, I think."
Brennan grunts an agreement. "And what do you think his reaction would be to meddling siblings--- five years after he's accepted it?"
She turns back to Brennan and some of her fire has returned. She points a finger at him. "That's just the point--he's accepted it. Our resources to treat him were limited at the time of the Sundering, shadowpaths were gone, technology in Amber was nil, and we did the best we could. But now--yes, it's years later--but now we have a viable Pattern, access to shadow and technology, and the experience and knowledge of his brothers and sisters. Father may be complacent about the whole thing presently, but is accepting this and not trying to fix his legs in his best interest? Now is the time to hit this problem, and hit it hard!" She thumps her hand on the table in emphasis.
"Not that I disagree with you as such, Solange, but right now I'm not going to try and tell your father what is and is not in his best interests. You and Vere can get away with that. None of your cousins can, and if Gerard has a sibling who can, it's Julian, who... has his own problems, right now. But if you want more help and insight from the Family, tell Hannah to be more forthcoming when we ask about him," Brennan says.
Solange draws a deep breath and exhales. "All right," she says, stuffing the anger and frustration away for the time. "All right."
She runs a fingertip idly along the grain of the wood tabletop. "So...you mentioned talking with Uncle Bleys later. Where are you off to after that? Going back to Xanadu?"
"Not in the current plans, no. Weyland bound, if I can think of where to start, and Benedict bound if I can't."
"So why are you searching for this Weyland? Are you looking to have a pattern sword made? Or something else?" she asks, curious.
"I'm interested in that, yes. Two of the imminent threats to Amber and the Family are best dealt with by weapons of that class. And one of the two known blades of that type is held by the King in Paris who is may not be comfortable leaving the throne to a Regent just yet," Brennan says. "I'm not fond of those mathematics."
Solange leans forward, interested and sufficiently distracted from previous uncomfortable topics. "What are those blades? I know of them, of course, but I've not seen one up close. Can you tell me about them?"
"Not as much as I might like," Brennan says, "because some of what I know is from observation, some of what I know is from hearsay, and I have little enough of each that it seems self-contradictory. But it seems obvious enough they can be used in defense against Chaos. Corwin had Greyswandir out at the debacle when Dara showed up, as did Bleys."
Solange nods.
"I've heard Fiona speculate that Corwin used it to help keep the Dragon in check when he was Warden of Arden, and I heard Bleys offer Werewindle's use against the same... but not as a loan. And recently, Corwin all but told me to go get one from Weyland, but warned me against the price."
"Yes, I remember talking about that after the Dragon incident, out in the hallway." Solange pauses. "So what's the price?"
"Something unpleasant, I'd wager, and personalized to the asker. Corwin wouldn't talk about it, and I don't expect Bleys will prove any different in that regard," Brennan says.
Solange smiles wryly. "And yet you still want to do it?"
"I want to go talk to the man," Brennan clarifies. "I'll burn other bridges when I cross them."
"Fair enough." Solange spreads her hands, then rests them face-down on the table. "How go the Ruby Knights?" she asks.
"In as many directions as there are Knights Commander, it seems," says Brennan. "Jovian left Amber shortly after his brother's death. Lilly is engaging in the post-Pattern wanderlust, and Marius has gone somewhere, too, but I'm not sure where.
"The Knights as an organization are busy with the Migration... along with the army and the navy. It's been a good exercise for the Knights so far-- some of them have common origins and it's good for them to get used to their new ranks." He rubs his brow for a moment. "Which reminds me, I need to check in on them tomorrow morning and update their instructions."
"Is that under control? The migration? Or is more help needed?" Solange asks.
"More help is always needed," Brennan says, "but at some point, it gets to be like pushing a rope up a hill: more force isn't going to help. The problem we've got right now-- and this is not for public consumption-- is that there might very well come a point where the Migration needs to be finished rather urgently. But I don't know when that time might come. So the Migration needs to be running like a well-oiled machine, needs to be ready for quick action under whoever is around to make decisions when the time happens... but no one needs to work themselves into a premature panic about it."
Solange blinks. "Has someone been put in charge of overseeing all of this?"
"Put in charge?" Brennan asks, "Formally? No. Random has expressed a desire that it happen and that it be facilitated. I've thrown the resources I have at it-- within reason-- and I think Caine has been doing the same on a larger scale with the Navy. Here's the thing: There's no naval Shadow Path to Xanadu, so the Migration tends to follow any Royal ship that comes or goes, and there's not a whole lot of us making the sea trip on a regular basis.
"Want to get in good with Random? Trump him and offer to lay a path. I'd say, 'just do it,' but he might have some reason he doesn't want a path laid, in which case, we need serious help. Take a whole mess of ships with you at the same time.
Solange's expression turns pensive. "I have to wonder why Uncle Caine hasn't laid a path already or is in the process thereof. I mean, well, a number of our generation could handle something like this, but he would have more experience with it."
"I wonder that, too," Brennan says, "but I didn't think to wonder the last time I saw him. Could be as simple as that Amber needs a Prince as regent and all the other Uncles and Aunts are busy. I know we either need a path laid or we need an entirely new plan," Brennan says.
"Want to help?"
"Sure, I'd be happy to," Solange replies.
"Well, I can come up with a detailed list," Brennan says, "but that'd be pointless since I could give a detailed list to any of the Knights. Here's what I see as priorities, though: We've got a slow motion explosion in Arcadia and Arden waiting to happen and probably spill over into Amber. Failing that, we've got a hostile uncle possibly heading this way. We've got a floatilla of navy ships with no Shadow paths to travel for evacuation, and a King with a desire to see people moved from Amber to Xanadu.
"I've been relying on the Knights and the Army to provide organization for the whole thing becuase I don't know the Navy well enough and had no desire to step on Caine's toes, and now I'm equally worried they're going to be Migrating when I need them most, or that no one will be Migrating becuase they have no path. Here's a start: Talk to Caine, figure out what's up with the Shadow paths-- I think Edan meant to start one-- and see if you can get the Navy engaged in coordinating landside activities so the army can free themselves if need be. Maybe he knows where the merry Hell Marius has got off to, who would certainly be a help." He lets out a long breath, blowing some non-existent hair out of his eyes.
"Simple, right? 'Manage the Migration.' Or at least kick it and see if it moves."
Solange nods. "All right. I can talk to Uncle Caine. Doesn't Marius have a sketch in the trump booth?"
"Probably. I'm not even quite sure if one of mine is there," he admits, "And I haven't quite had time to go down and take a look."
Solange smiles, amused at something. "I'll be going there myself soon. I'll let you know if you're there."
Brennan, more tired than he'd like to admit and more distracted by current events than he'd ever admit even to himself, doesn't even bother to ask what Solange finds so amusing. "Thanks. For that, and for help with the Migration."
"I'm happy to help," she replies, meaning it.
"And here's the other thing," Brennan says. "Huon may be heading Amber-ward and word is, he's got guns."
Solange's eyebrows rise.
"Bleys doesn't respect him, but if he's heading this way, I have to assume he has gunpowder he expects to work locally. So part of the restructure I need to give keeps the army in a man-power and moving mode without moving them, personally, out of Amber. And the other other thing: I expect Arcadia and Arden to explode." Brennnan doesn't entirely sound like he's talking metaphorically. "I just don't know exactly when. I don't mind juggling, but this has the makings of a major disaster."
"The armies need to stay to defend the people who have yet to migrate, but aside from that, there's also the question of to what degree is the place itself worth defending? I know there's still the broken Pattern downstairs...damn.... If there was a way to disable it entirely, then we could pull out completely to Xanadu and not feel the need to look back over our shoulders. As it stands now, this place will always be a liability."
Brennan doesn't answer that directly, he just gives a hard, thin-lipped, very stubborn smile.
"Ah. Apparently you've thought about or discussed this with someone already," Solange says wryly.
"Thought about it," Brennan says. "And I don't like leaving the place around just to rot and be a liability."
"Do you know if it would be possible--or even wise--to try to finish the job and destroy it?" It's unclear whether Solange is talking about Amber or the Pattern downstairs--perhaps both.
"What," Brennan says sourly, miming the activity of deep and creative thought, "like, conjure up a volcanic event beneath Amber and use it to terrify everyone into moving to Xanadu? Ossian's idea. Shot down by Random, thankfully."
"I'm not talking about terrifying people. I'm talking about taking care of a liability--though I have to admit the volcano would be something to see." Solange smiles briefly, then shrugs. "I'm sure my idea isn't a profound one, that this has occurred to others as well. If it was a viable one, no doubt we would've seen progress toward it by now." She shrugs again.
"I think Grandfather deserves something more than the destruction of his life's work," Brennan says, "although what shape that will take, I don't know. So when Random nixed the volcano, I didn't slice it fine enough to see what part he objected to."
Solange nods, letting the subject go. She's quiet for a moment, then spreads her hands on the table and stands, saying, "I'm going to take off and leave you to your research--I have some other things I want to attend to...and a lot of thinking to do.
"As do I," Brennan says. "Thinking and planning, followed by decision-making and action-taking. I'll speak to the Knights or send them letters telling them to watch out for you and to heed your directions in the absence of myself, Lilly, Jovian or Marius, should you need it."
"It was good to talk to you, Brennan."
"Likewise. Good luck with Gerard."
Solange nods and leaves, deciding to take a walk through the gardens and think.
Last modified: 2 December 2006