Signy dries off and dresses quickly before heading into the town proper.
She quickly and unerringly finds her way into the district where the smiths and craftsmen work, and starts methodically working through them looking for what she hopes will suit Misao's needs. She skips most of the large smithies, given that those smiths will be focusing on commodity items made cheaply, though she does note one or two that look to have well-made items for a future visit.
As she makes her way into the medium to small sized shops, she starts to spend a little time in each, looking at the smiths working to see who might be a good candidate to strike up a conversation to find what she remembers seeing at her father's forge. The first smith had no recognition of the milk-white metal that she described, but the second smith on hearing of the dense, milky metal pointed her to her third conversation, where she was able to negotiate a not-inconsiderable fee to purchase all of what he had, plus the day's labor to have it melted and recast in the right shape.
An expensive trip, but the smith bargained fairly and his items were extremely well crafted, and Signy made sure to emphasize the delivery needed to be at the castle tomorrow as she stood outside the door on her way back, loud enough for the people immediately around her making their way down the street to hear.
Her main mission accomplished, she quickly made her way back to the castle, noting the sun starting to sink lower on the horizon.
When Signy asks where the Rebman rescuees are, the pages send her to a parlor near the castle infirmary. The room is guarded but it's clear no trouble is expected. It's more of a just in case measure.
Tomat is, of course, the only man among the archivists.
Signy thanks the page, and asks that a message be sent to Misao that she found something that she hopes would be suitable, and that it would be delivered to the castle tomorrow.
The page bows and runs off with the message.
That task accomplished, she approaches Tomat, offering a brief smile. "It seems like you and the other Archivists are all doing well enough after your stay at the hands of the Order."
She doesn't even bother to joke about them being his old employer, that bond is well and truly severed at this point.
"Is the Order being more aggressive all of a sudden, or are we just noticing them now?"
"Some of both, I think," Tomat says. He is sitting on a sofa and gestures to Signy to join him. He looks like he's been through the wringer, or at least a beating and a shipwreck.
There's a tub in the parlor behind a screen, and it sounds like at least one of the Rebmans is soaking in it. There are also bottles of some kind of water that the Rebmans are drinking, though Tomat seems to be enjoying some kind of fruit juice instead.
Tomat continues, "I think since the time of the Black Road, and especially since your grandfather's death, certain groups in the Order have grown more reckless and less worried about being found out again. And that could account for much."
At about this point, there is a knock on the door, and the archivists answer it. A page presents himself to Lady Signy to advise her that the King has been called away from the castle and formal dinner is cancelled. Prince Gerard will be hosting an informal dinner for the family. All members of the family are welcome but attendance isn't mandatory.
Signy thanks the page for their service, and watches them as they head out.
"Interesting....." she murmurs.
Turning back to Tomat, she frowns as she thinks about what he said. "These groups in the Order -- do you think that they are all working in coordination, or are they in contention with each other as much as with us?"
"I think they are in more contention than you, possibly, but that's because I've seen your family act as one. If only in rescuing the archivists," Tomat reminds Signy. "The Pontifex, if he even exists, is nominally in charge of the Order, but the Abbotts and other leaders do most of the leading and presumably jockey for his favor. The Turcopolier is much more visible, though, because of his duties leading fighting men. He has to travel a lot."
Signy nods thoughtfully. "I wonder if there are any in the Order that we might be able to reach out to that can help identify other to help get ahead by removing their competition."
She smiles slightly. "How were things in Rebma when you left?"
"All was well enough. The events of the last few days have driven mundane concerns from my mind a little, though I can go back and recite the learning of those days if you wish it." Tomat returns Signy's smile. "I thought I had a good memory until I started working with the archivists. Among them, I feel like a novice all over again."
Signy laughs. "I think that you underestimate yourself far too much. And have much to offer them."
The grin on her face is genuine and warm.
"What are they having you study these days?"
"At this point we're all working on mnemonics for our recent events. What we know of what happened here, before Huon led us away, and then the attack on our ship, our kidnapping and our rescue. My other assigments have been court witness and the like, though I'm the juniormost of the archivists and there's always another person rechecking my work. I'd be better at this if I could inscribe things." Tomat sounds less frustrated than embarrassed. "In some ways it's not that different from what I did for the Order, for the most part. Learn and listen."
Signy looks a bit surprised. "They write nothing down themselves? How do they remember... everything?"
"It's all memorization and song. An oral culture. It's hard to write things down underwater," Tomat explains. "There is a library of the sort we have above water, and I'm sure my colleagues will investigate it. But we all memorize things and even I, who was considered to have a good memory by my brothers, have a poor memory by the standards of the Rebman archives."
Signy shakes her head in wonder. The inability to write makes sense, when you think about it, but to have to track everything orally....
"Where were you and the other Archivists headed when you were captured?"
"Back to Rebma, by way of Paris, where there's a stair that descends to Rebma. Huon wanted to pay his respects to the Princess Florimel and then return directly," Tomat explains.
Signy nods at this. "Did you get to spend much time in Paris? I've heard that's one of the places where the Order's congregated."
Tomat shakes his head. "I'd never been to Paris. I was based out of the Deep Halls for most of my time with the Order. Before I went to the Deep Halls, I'd never left my homeland. I traveled in the shadows near the Plains and Deep Halls. Most of the Order doesn't travel the way I did; they'll stay in one place for a long time. They only let you go places if they're sure you're committed."
Signy looks interested. "How did you demonstrate that you were committed enough to travel? Was that after you spent time with my father?"
Tomat shakes his head in the negative. "I'd won a great deal of trust already to earn that assignment. Usually we travel in groups for assignments like that, so we can keep an eye on each other. I'd been on a number of those, all successful, before I was sent to the Plain of Towers. Your father would only accept a single tutor in sorcery for you."
Signy frowns in thought. "Do you think that my father knew of the Klybesians' deeper desires around our family?"
"He certainly knew they wanted something beyond the exchange of value they initially offered. Your father is cynical like that. But he probably thought he was several steps ahead of the Order." Tomat shrugs and makes a bit of a face.
Before he can elaborate on that, a page arrives to notify Signy that a casual family dinner has started and that guests are welcome.
Signy sighs, and nods to the page that she has heard and accepted his invitation. She turns to Tomat, and makes a brief face that is strongly reminiscent of the ones she made when her father announced she needed to attend to guests and clients. "I hope you're not leaving tonight. I should have some time to get back to see how you're doing in a little."
"I serve at the pleasure of the Queen, is the phrase they use, but I don't expect her pleasure to be for me or any of the other archivists to depart immediately," Tomat says. "The physician told me to rest, and I'm inclined to take his advice."
Hopefully there isn't going to be a push to get out of Xanadu with dessert.
Signy gives a grateful smile, before turning and following the page out the door.
In Fletcher's day, there weren't armed guards watching the place where trumps led.
Fletcher shrugs and calls out, "I am Sir Fletcher, Knight Commander of the Order of the Unicorn and Defender of the Faith. I seek the King." Fletcher sizes up the security of this place, looking for signs of hidden surprises and idly wondering if they have automatic weapons now.
From here? They have height as an advantage and that's about it. They might have crossbows, but they aren't aiming them. It's not like Fletcher actually landed in the middle of a big target, except metaphorically.
It is Caine's security arrangements, so there's that.
The castle looks less busy than the last time Fletcher recalls. So does the city behind him.
The guards relax, and gesture towards the still-open main gates. "Well met, Sir Fletcher. The King is here. The Castellan can help you find him."
Fletcher salutes in thanks and heads toward the castle gates, heading to where one might expect to find the Castellan, but also keeping on eye out for his His Majesty. He wonders how busy things in Amber now with the move to Xanadu in progress.
Castles evolve as the roles they play evolve. Some are functional defenses, some are diplomatic and administrative centers, some are about social status for the very elite. All are bastions of power. Amber Castle has been all of these, and now it is most like a military outpost.
It exudes authority for the remaining Amber residents who haven't or won't move, but it seems a shadow of what it was under Oberon.
The castellan is one of Caine's captains and makes himself available quickly to the Unicorn knight. "Hello, Sir Fletcher. The King and the Regent are in conference; is your matter urgent?"
Fletcher pauses to consider. After all, with Benedict's advice he's not coming here to warn Random that he might be meeting with a traitor. Still, he did leave Garrett at loose ends. "I will apologize if my interruption is unwelcome, but I believe his Majesty is expecting me."
The Castellan says "Very well, My Lord. Please follow the page." He pulls a bell-pull and is shortly attended by a younger sailor, probably just too old to be a cabin boy. He leads Fletcher to what is clearly Caine's office and was once Gerard's office and before that Eric's, and before that, who knows? Oberon didn't have an office.
The youth raps on the door, and opens it. "Lord Fletcher of Xanadu!", he announces.
In the room, Caine and Corwin are looking at a map on a table, while Random is sitting in an easy chair. He looks up when Fletcher enters. "I have got to get better at playing hide-and-seek, don't I?"
Fletcher smiles and steps forward. "Actually even if Garrett hadn't told me where to find you I would probably be here anyway." Fletcher thinks to himself that at least this once all roads still lead to Amber. "We interviewed our Klybesian prisoner. I'm sure Garrett has already given you the details but there was something I thought the four of us should follow up on. In addition to the Turcopilier having walked a Pattern and being skilled enough to make tunnels through shadow, he's also at times adopted one of Caine's old aliases, Sir Sinbad. I thought you should all know in case you've heard of someone using that alias. It's a slim chance, but he's a big target."
Caine snorts from over by the map and turns. "It was a legendary name long before I used it. Ask Edan, it may originate in that shadow of his father's."
Corwin doesn't look up from the map. "The Pattern gives us control over shadow travel, not a monopoly on it. But if he's walked a Pattern, he's descended from Dworkin. What makes you think he has? It's not as easy to 'sneak in' to most of them as you might think."
Random crosses his legs, sips his drink, and waits for Fletcher to answer his brothers.
Fletcher faces Corwin. "Two things: First, I examined the tunnels. If they weren't made using the Pattern, they were certainly made using something very similar to it. Second, the prisoner claims that this individual volunteered samples of genetic material to aid in the Order's understanding of our power. Neither of these are absolute proof. Together they do tend to make it seem plausible. I felt it was my duty to report this to Random at least, and the two of you," Fletcher gestures indicating Corwin and Caine, "are positioned to know more of the family's forgotten history than most. I take it that you haven't seen any other indications that the Klybesians are actively working with a member of the family?" He lets the question hang in the air briefly before continuing, "You may want to put more specific questions to the prisoner. I don't have much of a trail to follow to pursue this."
Corwin looks at Caine. "The Klybesians have changed. Or perhaps they've just gotten better at being our enemy. I wasn't here, and honestly I haven't ever paid much attention to the local religious communities."
Caine nods. "It's like paying attention to the local feuds in the Printer's Guild. There's supposed to be a system where someone like Sir Archer actually watches the city and tells us when things need our attention. That's how it worked for Oberon, anyway, and it's what I've got going on here.
"But the Monks are different."
Random looks up from his seat. "Having brought the problem to our attention, what do you think we should do about it, Fletcher?"
Fletcher pauses before replying. "I think several cousins are already pursuing various acts of revenge for the Klybesians' escapade with Huon and the others. There is a significant probability of unnecessary collateral damage and our actions can cast shadows of their own. Leaving people to pursue things as they see fit works well enough, but when we're dealing with a foe this organized and spread out, at the very least there should be some centralized coordination of intelligence. Once I wrap of a couple of things in Xanadu, barring any new developments, I plan on trying to trace more of their tunnel network. They certainly have access to some power over shadow and the ability to create trumps. I am far from an expert on the trumps but if there is any one who can investigate how they've gotten access to them you might consider putting a word in their ear."
Corwin nods. "It's always struck me that Dworkin said that the Pattern gives us control over our power over shadow, not that it gives us to it. Lots of people fall through natural shadow paths. If someone came up with a way to make those on purpose, it would give them power without control."
Random adds, "Add them to Moonriders and those rude stabby bastards who chased me to Flora's."
"Grackleflints," say Corwin and Caine, in near unison.
"Henceforth officially dubbed 'Rude Stabby Bastards,' by order of King Random.
"Now that Fiona isn't investigating why I was turning into a zombie, maybe she can look into 'People who are horning in on our monopoly who might want dealing with'."
Caine looks at him. "It's amazing how you say the same things as Dad in a way that is totally unlike anything he'd ever say."
"It's a gift", replies Random.
Corwin looks at Fletcher and says "Tunnel networks sounds like a good place to start. Can you get back to the place you blew up with your cousins?"
Fletcher shrugs. "I got a good feel for it before leaving. It shouldn't be a problem to get there from Xanadu. Speaking of which, could I impose on one of you to help me get back to Xanadu via Trump?"
Caine pulls out a trump deck. "You know how to leave a trump behind, right? Leave it on the table and don't take it with you?" He shuffles his deck three times and flips the top card. "Gerard will do nicely." He places the cards on the side table.
Random glances at the cards. "Don't forget to report in regularly. We'd hate to find out you were on to something by hearing that you were missing...."
Fletcher nods in thanks to Caine as he slides the card over. "I'll stay in touch. If there's other news please point someone in my direction." Fletcher concentrates on the card before him.
Robin strides confidently down the hallways of the castle, her fair in hand. Her destination, the one place she thinks she can get an empty and clean rum jug -- the kitchens.
Pen follows, straightening her garments and brushing off any crumbs from the meal. She's happy to help Robin carry jugs.
Pages show up and offer to help, to find appropriate jugs and bring them to Pen and Robin, but they accept a negative and will simply guide the cousins to the kitchen if desired. Either way, Pen and Robin are able to obtain jugs of water of the appropriate size, and if they'd like, can be guided to the stables for mounts to make the jaunt to the grove and spring a little easier.
Robin will thank the pages and let them bring the empty jugs. Not interrupting the important work in the kitchen seems like a good idea to the girl.
Turning to Pen, Robin asks, "Can you ride?" Just in case.
Pen smiles, "Oh yes. We're taught from a young age." The anticipation of horse riding brings back many happy memories to Pen as they reach the stables.
Sir Robin's horse preferences are known, so the stablehands bring out a suitable mount for her. Captain Pen's are not, so the senior groom asks her to take a look at the mounts and decide which one she'd like.
One of the other grooms asks Robin whether Pen will need a mount that can hellride. Robin doesn't think they know what the word means, just the level of training it takes to get a horse ready (which is, understandably, a lot).
Pen's horse, last seen in Arden, is Melanippe, a loyal Arravani. She's from an athletic breed that was trained for speed, strength, and patience in combat. She's looking for a mount that's strong, fast, and with an agreeable temperament. She'll find a saddle that fits her stride.
Robin lets the groom know that Pen won't need a mount trained to Hellride. She will also let the grooms know that they're just going on a quick day-trip and expect to be back shortly.
Robin mounts up easily. She has a good seat and is obviously an experienced -- if uninspired -- rider. She just goes through horses too quickly to have a real preference or to bother getting to know them. After all, 'Amberite' translates to horse thief in some shadows.
On hearing Pen's specifications, the grooms immediately take a shine to her; she's clearly an experienced rider. They find a solidly trained horse for her at once, one nicer than the one they assigned to Robin, and a handsome saddle.
There aren't a lot of horses--apparently the Princes have mostly ridden off--but there are a very few nice ones, including an Arabian that belongs to Sir Edan.
Robin waits until Pen has selected her horse and mounted. Then she leads them out of the stable and across the mountain toward the Unicorn's Grove. She's eager to see what has become of the place since the last time she visited, before Xanadu was fully realized.
As they ride, Robin turns to Pen. "The Grove we're going to is sacred to many of us. The Unicorn - or Grandmare as Brita calls her - is considered a close ancestor and is a Being of Power. Seeing her is both a blessing and good luck. I don't expect her to be there today, but one never knows.
"In the meantime, did you have any questions, Pen?"
"I've seen many strange things in my time, but I've never seen a unicorn. I thought they were just stories. Huh."
As the horses settle into a measured rhythm, Pen looks more comfortable in the saddle.
"I was actually wondering something. If I understand this right, you can travel anywhere at all, but Arden seems to be home for you. What is it about that particular place that makes it so special?"
Robin smiles to herself. "Well, I was raised and lived most of my life there. I know Adren's trails and Marked Places. I know its life, both flora and fauna. I know its moods and ways. It's like a mother to me in that respect. But there's more.
"Arden is its own Power -- its own Place. Even though it was originally designed to be a bulwark for Amber, it has evolved into so much more. There's a wildness to it; a primalness. It is the source for all those places which don't exist just to serve man, but exist in their own right.
"If I ever take up Goddessing," Robin looks over to Pen with a twinkle in her eye, "I'd be a Goddess of the Wild. And Arden is home to such as that.
"Does that make sense?" Robin finishes, knowing that she's used several base concepts rather cavalierly.
"It does indeed," Pen agrees with a nod. "You would make an excellent Goddess of the Wild in that lovely place.
"Warden Julian seems to be just the right person to oversee that place. He was busy when I met him, but practical, pleasant, and very helpful."
Pen reflects on the water pails. "I know that we're going to fetch sacred water for Goddess Brita, but I've forgotten what she needs it for?"
"She said a new cousin -- Misao -- needed it for a purification ritual after Brita had blessed it. I don't know what Misao needs to be purified but water from the Grove and blessed by Brita should certainly do for any ritual.
"And Warden Julian is definitely the right person to oversee Arden. Though my mother was Ysabeau, Julian's sister, it was he who raised me in Arden and I consider him my Father. He's one of the best of the Princes of Amber, though he gets little recognition. Thank you for your kind words."
At a slow pace, the two women and horses make their way up the mountainside.
When they reach the Grove, Pen dismounts and finds a spot where her horse can graze safely. She'll collect her pail and follow Robin's lead.
Pen feels that this is a special place, and suspects she would have known that without the notice that it belonged to the family's patron. She has no trouble filling her pail with clear, cold water.
Robin dismounts as well and approaches the spring reverently. As she does, she murmurs under her breath her wishes that the Unicorn bless the water and help her cousins Brita and Misao. Then she fills her pail with water. And takes a moment to enjoy the serenity of the Grove before turning to Pen with a smile on her face.
"I always enjoy being here. Especially since the Grove in Arden is under siege by firelillies. I'm going to have to check on that once we head to Arden."
Pen secures her pail, and climbs into the saddle. "I will gladly help to free the Grove in Arden of the firelilies. They're a blight on your home."
To Robin, the grove seems as it normally is. There is no obvious sign of the Unicorn's recent passage.
"You're familiar with firelillies?" Robin asks as she secures her own pail and mounts up. "Are they in Pontus too?"
"The firelilies are not there yet (as far as I know), but the green sickness is a recent blight in Pontus. The herbalists were the first to notice it's coming, but once the infection struck we learned quickly how the bodies must be burned." She thinks back to when she first set foot in Arden. "I owe my life to Rangers Vista and Nails. We had spent the better part of day clearing the firelilies with recruits Vista and Dollop, but the Great Dragon of Arcadia retaliated with an ambush in the middle of the night. They brought me to Medic Sherrell after the battle. Many of the recruits were lost. Good people. I should've been killed, but I think I was too angry or stubborn to die."
Robin nods her head in sympathy. She knows about being too something to die. Then she cocks her head as what she's heard rattles around in her head.
"Could you explain the Green Sickness to me?" she says as they ride. "And then tell me how the Great Dragon retaliated?"
Pen settles in as the horses canter at a safe pace. "Some time ago Pontus was besieged by terrible monsters and creatures of Tartarus. My sisters and I fought well against them and eventually they were thrown back, followed by a great storm that wiped clean the remains of the monsters and some of the damage. From what I read in the library, Amber may have known this time as something called Patternfall."
Robin nods her head, both in understanding and in agreement.
"Pontus buried her dead and carried on for a time, but then the trouble began to emerge from Arcadia. First, slavers appeared with kidnapped victims from the far side of Arcadia, some of whom might have been destined for the auction blocks in Reme, or worse, for their gladiatorial pits; then, strange plants began blooming that our herbalists quickly warned people to stay away from; and most recently, a few creatures infected with some vile green sickness. Anyone injured by such a creature seems to catch the sickness, which cannot be contained. Instead, such unfortunates must be killed before they infect others, and their bodies must be burned ceremonially.
"As for the story of the Great Dragon's retaliation," Pen pauses, and in her mind, she suddenly sees the dying rangers, hears their screams penetrating the night, followed by the howls of inhuman beasts, and the sudden nearness of them with the Dragon's blazon on their cruel armor. She hears the terrifying roar of the monstrous ram-thing, and it jolts her from her unfocused gaze. The horse is startled, but quickly pacified, and Pen continues, "I promise that I will recount it to you once we're back with our feet up by the fire."
"Fair enough," Robin says, recognizing the look in Pen's eyes, "We'll drink and trade stories. I might even tell you of the Siege of Amber and the Burning." Robin's smile holds a trace of bitterness at her own memories of friends lost in losing battles.
Shaking her head, she changes the subject to one only slightly less depressing. "I had a good friend once -- he was like an uncle to me. Somehow, sometime he became... infected I guess, with an ailment of the Deep Green. It let some force of Arcadia -- maybe the Dragon herself -- control his actions. And it changed his physiology so that, under his skin, he was not human anymore. But more like a colony organism. He attacked the Warden in my presence." Robin sighs, "I was hard put to kill him and in the end, had to pretty cut him down into small pieces. We had to burn his body.
"Is that like the green sickness in Pontus?"
Pen nods slowly. "It is one and the same, yes. I'm so very sorry for your friend. I can't imagine how hard a thing that must have been."
"It was hard," Robin says. "It still is.
"At first, I tried to laugh it off with my brother. But I hated the sound of the words coming out of my mouth. So now, I just try to remember how Girth lived. Instead of how he died."
Robin shifts in her saddle as she changes the subject. "Sooo, Pen. If you could go anywhere you could imagine, would you still call Pontus home?" The Ranger grins as she turns Pen's initial question back on her.
Pen takes a minute or two to ponder. "I think, I would go to Mount Olympus to study archery with Artemis, carousing with Dionysus, discipline with Ares, blacksmithing with Hephaestus, and tactics with Athena." It's a slightly playful answer, but she seems sincere.
Robin nods. "Laudable choices. And eminently doable.
"You'll also have time for it. I don't know if anyone has told you, but since you are Family, you'll probably live for a very long time. Assuming something doesn't kill you first." Robin shrugs with a grin.
It's said, of course, that the gods live forever. Perhaps this family is demigods themselves, which would make Pen a demigod, or a quarter-god, or however they figure it in this sprawling family. How they're related to the gods of Olympus is a question that doesn't seem to have a clear answer. But she has already met enough of the family to see that certain correspondences exist between the Gods of Olympus and the family of Amber and Xanadu.
(And of course, Pen has survived at least one thing that should have killed her. Recently, even.)
As they return the stables, Pen is keen to make sure the horses are handed off to the grooms to be fed, watered, and brushed.
She didn't realize how much she misses her own horse until she was riding another. She was taught horseback riding by Aiella, five years her senior, after the terrible accident she suffered as a young girl. Riding was a means to gaining confidence and learning something useful. There was a lot of falling at first and picking herself up. Amazons are like that. It seems some lessons repeat themselves.
Robin dismounts and gives her horse a friendly pat. At least she didn't lose this one. She gives the grooms a friendly nod as she recovers her pail of water. Making sure that the firelizards are all settled for indoor behavior, she smiles to Pen. "Okay, let's get this water to Brita."
Robin heads for the nearest door.
The firelizards have had outside play, and it's been a lot of fun, and they're all kind of tired--unless there are more snacks on offer.
Pen and Robin and some tired firelizards have no trouble finding their way back to Brita's chamber.
There's a knock at Brita's door, and when she indicates that whoever it is should come in, Fiona enters the suite. Fiona looks pale and very tired, but smiles when she sees Brita. "Hello, my darling. I should have come before now, but I've been asleep, recovering from my injuries."
Brita rises quickly from the desk where she has been painting and moves to clear a space on the comfiest chair in the room for Fiona.
"Mother! What Injuries did You Incur? Can I Assist in Your Recovery?" Brita is anxiously gathering small pillows from around the room to place around Fiona. She has found three in the span of a minute....
Fiona settles in a chair while Brita is finding cushions for her. "My battle with the Queen of Air and Darkness, much of which took place inside my own mind. I will recover in due time, but I'd rather avoid another duel of that sort, or of any sorcerous sort, for a while." And indeed, there are no obvious marks of a fight on her, nor any visible wounds.
Brita pauses in her nervous fussing. "Mother, I Do Not Wish to Stir Up Difficult Memories, but... In Battle, one Often Learns Things about an Adversary. Were You Able to Learn Anything that could Help Us in Understanding the Air and Dark Queen?"
"She's immensely powerful, in the way that your grandfather was. I'll be warier next time; she blindsided me because I wasn't expecting Vialle to attack me with that kind of power. And we were already--connected isn't the right word, but I was looking at her, instead of shoring up my defenses," Fiona says. She sounds more annoyed at herself than anything. "I am pondering that question. Part of the answer is that she's immensely powerful and has to be overcome the way we did with Dad: hit him from several directions at once.
"But I think she's more powerful than Dad was, honestly. Because I don't think she was bringing anything like her full power to bear through Vialle."
"Why Overcome, Mother? Can She Be Reasoned with? Battle Sister First Explained Some of Her People's Desires. Would Restoring Misty Tir-na Nog'th be Disadvantageous?" Brita asks as she turns the desk chair around and sits down. "How Does the Air and Dark Queen Compare to Nana Clarissa?"
"That's what your Uncle Brand was trying to do: restore Tir. And you saw where it led him," Fiona explains.
"As for Mother: she'd hate to hear this, but strength to strength, the Queen would overcome her. If nothing else because the Queen has the power of Pattern at a level of control and focus and understanding that's almost beyond human comprehension. Think on how much you know of Pattern and Sorcery, Brita, and then imagine how strong you'd be with them if you'd lived for decades, centuries, even millennia. That's the kind of power the Queen has."
Brita shivers a little. "From Your Battle Experience, then, do You Think She Cannot be Reasoned With?"
"I think she can be reasoned with if she wants to be. But to her, we're a bit like the folk of Shadow are to us. I think she has goals and following them is more important to her than any disruptions we may experience," Fiona explains. "It's given me a lot to think on. But--she's no worse than Brand was. Just much more powerful."
"What can I Do to Help, Mother?" Brita asks. "I Am Travelling to Forest Arden with Cousin Robin and New Kin Penthelisea to Assist with Addressing the Fire Lilies."
"Then that must be your obligation for now," Fiona says. "Julian has struggled alone among the family for a long time; he needs all of you to help him fend off the Dragon. I don't know how long he can protect Amber without a Pattern there to hold the city against the Dragon. I've been surprised that Robin has stayed away so long."
There's another knock on the door.
"Enter," Brita calls.
It's Dworkin.
He gives Brita a wide smile full of teeth, and says, "Hello, Brita, have you seen--" before noticing Fiona. "Ah, there you are. I came to look in on you. I hear you had a run-in with your aunt."
Fiona starts to nod, thinks better of it, and says, "I fought with her. I think I didn't lose, but it was a difficult victory."
"I've come to take you back to rest with me for a while, and let you heal."
Brita's wide smile of greeting for her grandda fades to a look of concern that swings between Fiona and Dworkin. "Where will you Go?" she asks. It is not quite a whine of a child abandoned, but close.
Fiona starts to say something but--
"Not very far. Just home with Wixer. You can visit if you like," Dworkin interrupts. His big eyes radiate sympathy with Brita. "Or you could come with."
Brita nods but says, "No -- I have Committed my Near Time with Cousin Robin." She glances worriedly at Fiona. "I Hope My Mother will be Well Before I Return." She shakes off the worry. "How is Fierce Wixer, Grandda?"
"The last time I saw him, Wixer was doing well. But it's been a while and I definitely need to look in on him. He'll be very sad that you're not coming to visit. He'll have to make do with your mother." Dworkin reaches out to pat Brita's shoulder reassuringly, though slowly enough that she can dodge the gesture easily if she likes.
Brita does not dodge the gesture but lifts her hand to grasp his elbow in acknowledgment of the comfort. "Give Friend Wixer a Treat for me."
As Robin and Pen reach the door to Brita's room, Robin shifts sleepy firelizards and buckets of water to rap out a short Cadence phrase requesting entry.
"That is Cousin Robin Returning. She and One of Our Newest Kin -- Warrior Penthelisea went to Fetch Water at Grandmare's Grove for Another New Kin -- Lady Misao."
Brita rises and opens the door for the pair.
[Penthelisea]
"Hail Goddess Brita, we are returned with pure water for your blessing."
Robin sees Fiona sitting by where Brita had been, looking like she's had the crap kicked out of her, but metaphysically (no visible obvious injuries). Standing with her is Dworkin.
Pen sees a woman whom she would guess is a well-preserved middle-age, mostly because of the years behind her smile and her eyes, with a crown of red hair and enough of a resemblance to Brita to suggest a close relationship. She looks tired, as if she is recovering from a long struggle. If she stood up, she'd be tiny compared to Brita. Still, among the Amazons, this woman would be respected for her wisdom and power, Pen suspects.
The other person in the room is a very tall fellow with a mass of curly dark hair going to salt and pepper, wearing a long coat. He has a huge nose and a toothy grin. "Hel-lo," he says to Pen. "You must be the new one Brita mentioned: Penthelisea." He has the correct pronunciation. "And hello Robin. Would either of you like a--" and he holds out a little paper bag of sweets.
Brita smiles encouragingly at Pen. Gesturing as needed, she introduces "My Mother Fiona and Our Grandda Dworkin."
"Thank you." Robin answers Dworkin as she takes four sweets, one for herself and one for each of the firelizards. She nods a greeting to Fiona as she sets her pails down out of the way and shares the treats around her faire.
The fair is torn between curiosity about the new people and the desire for sweets. Sweets win out at least temporarily, possibly because new people don't seem to be trying to leave. Peep eats hers slowly and daintily, in several bites, while Chirrup devours his. Oot is watching Dworkin, who is well aware of Oot and keeps winking at the firelizard.
Fiona smiles at the newcomers. "Penthelisea," she pronounces, having already committed the name to memory. "Or Pen, if that is what you prefer. Welcome to Xanadu." She turns her attention to Robin. "And Robin. I had not expected to see you here. I thought you'd be straight for Arden from whatever you were doing before, if you weren't there already."
"I was there." Robin confirms, "But then I was assigned to scout the Deep Green and I ran into a situation that had... farther reaching ramifications than I thought. And then I got sidetracked in Rebma and then called into Xanadu for Family Business. I'm just now getting back to keeping my promises on the ramifications. Once that is done, it will be back to Arden to support my Father. Who frankly could use all the support he can get."
Fiona nods her agreement.
Pen accepts a sweet from the man called Dworkin, more as a polite gesture to Brita. "Thank you," she says. There is something strangely unnerving about "grandda", as Goddess Brita introduced him, and Pen is surprised that when she looks into his eyes she can't hold his gaze.
It's even more unsettling how delicious the sweet is.
She nods respectfully to Fiona, "It's an honor to meet you, Lady Fiona, Mother of Goddess Brita. I also have business back in Arden and will be joining cousin Robin in her travels there."
"I am always pleased to meet my daughter's friends and companions," Fiona says to Pen. "Under other circumstances I might join you, but I am advised I must go with Dworkin for healing from some sorcerous injuries I have taken. Are you a warrior, or a sorceress, or both, like Brita?"
Pen nods, "Definitely a warrior, Lady Fiona. Sorcery is an uncommon talent among my people."
As Robin notices Dworkin winking at Ooot, she recalls her manners, "Great-grandfather? May I present Peep, Chirrup and Ooot. Who thank you very much for the sweets."
"You're very welcome," Dworkin says to the fair in soothing tones. "Are they of your father's making?" he asks Robin.
Robin smiles at Dworkin's acumen. "I suspect so." She says, "But he hasn't commented either way.
"Great-grandfather?" Robin asks, "Do you think there is a way to re-anchor Ard... I mean, Amber to Reality once more? Maybe if multiple Pattern users worked together?" Robin bites her lip as she waits for a reply, remembering that this man lost his son to the last attempt.
Dworkin tilts his head, pondering the question. "No one's ever tried it with multiple people," he finally says. "So I don't know. It's a good question though."
"Would it Affect the Maths If Former Reality Amber was Re-Linked While Reality Xanadu Exists?" Brita asks as she moves to organize the paintings and sketches she has been working on.
'Maths?' Robin looks baffled for a moment. For her, Reality and Pattern-work has always been about passion and music so she awaits Dworkin's answer full of curiosity.
"Think of it as music for people who like to write things down," Dworkin suggests to Robin. Fiona is hiding a smile, like she thinks Dworkin made a joke. (Possibly, Brita suspects, at Fiona's and Bleys' expense. Particularly Bleys'.)
What he says to Brita is, "It wouldn't be the first time the number of Patterns has risen, of course. The number of Patterns should, ideally, remain stable, but as long as the number of people is growing, the number of Patterns may need to grow too. And there are a lot more of you than there used to be."
Pen recognizes that she's out of her depth here, and makes a mental note to revisit these topics at a later date when they might make more sense. Probably after she's attempted to walk The Pattern.
If not directly engaged with anyone, she's treating her mild anxiety with exercise in the form of press-ups or something similar. Old habits.
Fiona is keeping an eye on Pen, but doesn't say anything; she seems to have enough focus to keep an ear on the conversation, watch Pen, and make sure the fair aren't doing too much they aren't supposed to.
In fact the fair is pretty interested in Pen, who is the only person who's doing anything right now as far as they're concerned. They don't seem to care about the rest of the people, even Robin, flapping their gums, and Dworkin is only interesting when he's passing candy around.
"Is a Pattern necessary to re-anchor Amber? If so, could we repair the one that is there or would we need to re-make it?" Robin asks.
"Amber won't ever be what it was before. It will be something different and potentially equally powerful. Equally Real, if you will," Dworkin answer. "It's not exactly repairing, and not exactly re-making, but something in between. You make a Pattern and it makes you. Re-making, if you will, is something of the same."
Brita feels the tingle of an oncoming Trump call.
Brita is staring into the middle distance when she says, "Yes?"
Dworkin looks both alarmed and annoyed, and reaches out to take Fiona's hand. "Come along, Fiona. We should go. Parting is such sweet sorrow and all, but needs must and all that."
Robin startles a little at the abrupt end to the conversation. She didn't get a chance to visit really, just ask cosmological questions, which she figures Dworkin must be tired of. "Thank you, Great-grandfather. I hope the rest of your day goes well."
"Brother!" Brita's smile is big although it dims a little as she glances at her fleeing elder. "Mother, Grandda? Would You Want to Greet My Brother Before you Go?"
Much to Dworkin's annoyance, Fiona takes Brita's hand and joins in that Trump contact.
Dworkin says, "Give him my greetings," before turning back to Robin. "I'll be here a bit longer, it seems--do you have any more questions? This is deep business and I think it frightens your cousin a little."
He adds, for Pen's benefit, "This isn't a lesson and you won't be quizzed on it, but Robin may need your help remembering later."
Robin nods, indeed she might.
"Sooo, then how does one create a Pattern?" Robin asks.
"With lightning, blood, and lyre, finding the form in the Jewel, if one can," Dworkin explains. "It's hard to explain if you haven't done it, and if you have, I don't need to. But if you get into the position where you might, you have to. You're not thinking of redrawing Amber's Pattern, are you?"
"Iiiii'mmmm examining my options, right now," Robin drawls. "But I know Arden much better than I know Amber as it was. And I've been retuned to the current Pattern instead of the old one," she adds even though Dworkin was there.
They hear Brita say, "Grandda sends His Greetings. He is Speaking with Cousin Robin and New Cousin Penthelisea Before he Takes Mother for A Rest. I Was Heading to Green Arden to Assist Cousin Robin. Is Your Need Urgent?" She darts a quick, worried glance at Robin.
Robin smiles to Brita, trying to indicate by her expression that the Goddess is free to join her brother if she wishes.
There's a pause, presumably while Conner is speaking on the far end, then Fiona looks back towards her children, both present and virtual.
She frowns. "Weather normally only travels reciprocally between shadows. Natural shadowpaths are usually close enough that rain in one results in rain in the adjacent one. Unidirectional weather effects are usually a conscious choice, or else a catastrophic side-effect. Vere's home, the drowning Isles, is a prime example of this.
"My guess is that either someone broke the shadow accidentally or is breaking it on purpose. And if it's a Klybesian base, then all the more reason to know what someone is up to."
She doesn't address the question of Brita joining her brother.
Brita shoots a grateful look at Robin and says, "Could Cousin Jerod's Pull of the Winter Storm that I Heard He used to Destroy the Prison that Kept Our New Cousins have Affected That Higher Tech Shadow? Cousin Robin has Graciously Noted I Could Assist You if Needed."
Robin smiles to her in-demand Cousin.
Dworkin has been paying attention to all the conversations at once, and possibly the Trump conversation that he isn't in, and says as something of an aside, "Fiona, you're not allowed to go with Brita," in the indulgent tones of a grandfather who expects to be attended upon, before turning his attention back to Robin.
"The thing about Patterns, and I'm not sure the Amber Pattern is compatible with you--it would be better for you to make your own--is that you change when you make one. You become it, and it becomes you. So think about what you'd be willing to stop being to become the one who made, or remade, a Pattern. And think about it before you're committed because once you've given yourself over to the Jewel, it's too late."
"I'm not going, Grandfather," Fiona says. "Conner and Brita can handle this on their own. Contact me if you need me, all right?"
"I Have Completed the Travel Sketches," Brita says, apparently to the room at large. "I Must Purify the Grove Water that Cousins Robin and Penthelisea have Retrieved for Cousin Misao. Mother, can You Hold the Link with Conner for a Moment?" Assuming Fiona agrees, Brita moves to the jugs of water.
Fiona can handle holding that call. She's had the crap pounded out of her by Maeve, but she's not dead yet!
She opens them and gently lays the tip of a finger on the surface of the water. She bows her head and draws upon her heritage to sense any impurities in the water (although she is not expecting any from Grandmare's Grove). She whispers a soft blessing for purity and healing into the water for her new cousin before recapping the jugs. "Cousin Robin, Please see that a Page Delivers These to Our New Cousin Misao. Thank You for Your Understanding in Releasing me to My Brother." She points to the desk. The Sketches for the Lucas Fountain and Fire Gate are There and Ready for Your Use." She turns her attention back to Conner and says, "Get Well, Mother. Contact Us if You have Need of Our Assistance." She reaches out to Conner.
"Goodbye, and good luck. I trust you to do well, but call me if you need me," Fiona says.
Dworkin has watched the entire blessing procedure, fascinated. "Don't worry! I'll take good care of your mother."
Pen, eager to be of use, heads to find a page to deliver the jugs to Misao.
There is a page at the door who gladly takes them for delivery.
Robin has been thinking quietly about Dworkin's advice. Thinking of things she doesn't want to lose by becoming the one who made the Pattern; things like her love for Vere. But she snaps out of it long enough to wave goodbye to Brita.
Brita steps through the contact. There's a moment of distortion, like Brita is bending a little weirdly in the Trump transit, and she's gone. The contact closes.
"All right, I'm ready to go now," Fiona says to Dworkin.
Dworkin is still watching Robin with a keen eye. "Think on it before you make any irrevocable decisions, Robin. And you, Penthelisea, take care of yourself as well. Don't be afraid of your power when you come into it. It won't consume you if you don't let it."
The fair is fluttering about anxiously. Dworkin puts down some candies for them on one of the tables, which makes them start chittering at Robin. Oot starts to fly to them. Peep doesn't like that and chastises him, so he waits for her, or maybe Robin.
"Be careful, nieces," Fiona says. "I'll be back soon. Let your father know where I've gone, Robin."
"I will." Robin nods.
"And on that note, I bid you all farewell," Dworkin says, and sweeps Fiona out of the room.
"Well," Robin says with a bracing breath, "That was elucidating."
She lets her fair know that they can pounce on the candies. Then turns to Pen. "Do you still want to tag along on my chore? It might not be very exciting. On the other hand, you'd get to see a lot of interesting places."
Pen nods, "I like the sound of interesting places, and I expect there's a wealth of new geography for me to catch up on."
Pen collects her things. "I'll follow your lead, cousin."
"Great!" Robin chirps.
As the firelizards finish their candy, Robin gathers up the two Trump sketches, rolls them up carefully and tucks them away in her pockets. "First stop, my room. I need to change and I want to see if that Trump portrait has arrived. If not, we'll search up Gerard's room." Calling her faire to her, Robin opens the door and steps out into the halls of Xanadu.
Last modified: 7 January 2022