Up From The Deep


Paige still has paint on her cuffs when she begins tracking down Marius's sister. She's already tracked down the current room, but apparently her cousin isn't there. The redhead heads down toward the city to see if she can find her.

Paige makes her way into a district near the more questionable parts of town, where she finds Signy tucked away in a back corner of The Jester's Tears tavern. As her eyes adjust to the dimness of the interior and she spots Signy, she sees one of the staff put a full tankard of ale next to her and quickly whisk away the plates, though Signy doesn't look up from the book she's reading. As Paige approaches, she notices from the title on the spine that it's Cambina's history of Oberon's reign.

"It's remarkably unbiased for a daughter of Eric obssessed with the Tir," Paige offers as she takes a seat, waving at the staff to bring her a tankard like her cousin's. "Enjoying it yet?"

Signy doesn't start at Paige's arrival, though her hand does twitch briefly as if closing on the hilt of a weapon.

She looks up at Paige, and smiles briefly. "It appears that Marius is not around at the moment. After the first half-day of waiting for him, I found my way to the castle library, and asked if there was a recent history of the family I could read, and was given this." She puts a ratty piece of cloth into the book to mark her page, and closes the book. "How did your Trump drawings go? Did you have any better luck then I did in reaching Marius?"

"No, but primarily because I haven't tried yet, having just settled the children for the afternoon after finishing the Trump I owe my father. I had thought to see what your success was before bothering him myself," Paige answers. "Cambina's a cousin, but I'm sure you sussed that out.

"Are we still under the impression that he might be in Amber?" the redhead asks, pulling her collar up against a phantom chill.

Signy frowns, and a note of frustration creeps into her voice. "Truthfully, I don't think so. I've not checked at the castle this morning, I just assumed he wouldn't be in. Nobody really had any idea where he was, but one would think if he were around that someone would have seen him, even if in passing." Signy looks down at the book consideringly. "I hadn't realized just how big the scope of Amber is...was. And now everything's starting over in Xanadu....."

"We stand astride the river of change, or something like that," Paige offers lightly. "What say we try the Regent first and see if he's heard of your brother's where-abouts?"

A note of doubt enters Signy's voice. "We can try, I suppose."

Signy raises her glass towards Paige. "Here's to the Regent succeding where I've failed," she offers ironically, and quickly downs the tankard.

"Shall we?"

"Let's," the redhead answers, green eyes finding the poor girl that's just now delivering her own drink. She flips a silver coin from her purse on the girl's tray and waves off the drink. "Give it to someone deserving, and keep the rest for yourself."

"Back to the Castle, mi'lady," Paige chuckles at her cousin. "There will be a way to contact the Regent from there, as I unfortunately have no sketches of dear Uncle Caine yet myself."

Signy looks slightly scandalized at the drink being waved off, before shaking her head with a rueful grin. "I'm sorry -- I'm still used to being among my Band. The next time we find someplace to sit for a moment I'll buy the first round, and not chase you out the door before you can enjoy it."

"It's not a problem. One drink wouldn't do much for me anyway, and I don't have the time or inclination to really tie one on. Remind me to tell you about the Regency first hand some day," Paige smiles.

She drops a few coppers on the table as she scoops up the book, and falls in besides Paige.

When they return to the castle, Paige leads her cousin to the relocated Trump Booth and raises the Trump of Caine to eye level, concentrating on it, willing her uncle's form to lifelike intensity...

"Who calls me?" Caine answers quickly.

"Your neice Paige, Regent of Amber. I'm on a recruiting mission for the Warden of Broceliande as well as conveying my cousin Signy to Amber in search of her brother Marius," she answers. "Is this a good time or might another interruption of your day suit better?"

"If Marius is here, he hasn't checked in to the castle. Or the Naval." He holds his hand out. "You may come through."

As Signy enters the Trump Booth, she looks with interest at the various pictures of her family [can she get a quick count of how many Trumps she sees? And if she recognizes any?]. As Paige carries on her half of the conversation, she watches the Trump of Caine to see if anything about it has changed now that the conversation has started.

There are several planks, each with a half-dozen cards attached. Signy recognizes [one for each living person who should have one that she recognizes].

[I don't think Paige made contact with Signn, so I'm assuming that I've missed Caine's half of the conversation, right? If I'm wrong, let me know and I can change the last bit.]

[Paige can grab you and pull you through, when she's ready...]

"Thank you," [Paige] answers.

Paige keeps her focus on the card, but speaks for Signy's benefit, extending her free hand. "Caine claims your brother hasn't checked into the castle or his club in the city, but you're welcome to come through."

Signy studies the cards, her gaze stopping on one or two in obvious recognition, before Paige's words sink in. "Figures that just when I'm looking for him, he's nowhere to be found," she grouses, before reaching out and taking Paige's hand.

Paige smiles and makes introductions, "Prince Caine, Regent of Amber, your niece, Signy," as she hands her cousin through and then follows herself.

Signy blushes slightly, and doesn't look directly at Caine as she steps through. "We've...uh...met."

She pauses, and then looks up at him. "Do you know how we might be able to track down my brother?"

Caine stands near a window overlooking the harbor. It's clear that the ships in it are loading goods and people to move, rather than cargo in to the city. He wears practical clothes for sailing, and a heavy coat hangs nearby, although it shouldn't be useful in Amber for half a year.

Caine smiles, as if there had never been unpleasantness between them. "If he wishes to be found, a trump is the most expeditious manner. If he does not, then you might not be able to track him down."

"I have some sketches, but it would take longer without him to work from," Paige offers. "But I fear Julian's Arcadian War will not wait much longer, and I would do well to begin getting my Rangers in place in Broceliande, but the offer's there. It wouldn't be the first night that I spent without sleep, and I can recruit during the day."

Caine nods. "If you recruit navy men, submit the names to the Marquis here, so the Admiralty can know. You'll have to talk to Julian about recruiting his Rangers."

He looks up. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"At the moment, not for me," Paige replies.

Signy shifts slightly. "If you want," she starts, her voice becoming overly casual, "we could go back to where I came from and you could see if any of my warband are interested in joining your fight. I can't promise that any will join you, but they were a good crew and stood with me when I went against Weyland."

Paige seems intrgued at the idea, but doesn't elaborate on it at the moment.

Her gaze flicks over to Paige, and then back away. "And maybe before we go, we could find time to visit this Lord Boreal...?"

Caine stands and walks to the door to show them out.

"Of course," Paige agrees. "Uncle, my thanks. I'll report in as things go and when I'm ready to lead ships to Xanadu."

Caine nods. "If you need anything at all, send word to the castle."

Paige navigates the castle as if it were home, leading Signy to the stables to aquire mounts for the ride to the City and Boreal's.

"Refresh my memory. Why are we tracking down Boreal again?" she asks as they pass out the castle gates.

Signy falls into step beside Paige.

"My brother found me with a ring of my mother's he got from him. I'm hoping he has more information where Marius is, or at least more belongings of my mother's."

She offers a helpless little shrug. "It seems that I now have a missing brother to replace a mother that is now no longer missing," she offers in a slightly bitter tone.

Paige smiles wryly. "Well, you've cousins galore if you need them, and I've no doubt that we'll unearth Marius if he's here," she offers thoughtfully. "He promised that we would talk after he returned, and I'd like to hold him to that.

"Last time I remember seeing Boreal was the Coronation Ball, dancing with Harper of Gateway, I believe, but fortunately his residence in town isn't far from my townhome," the redhead explains. "You're welcome to stay there, if you wish, while you're looking for him."

Signy smiles gratefully. "I may take you up on that for now, while I try to talk to this Lord."

She falls silent for a moment. "Who is this Lord Boreal? How is he connected with my m....our family? Is he a relative too?"

"I know that he was one of your mother's political supporters, but beyond that I've never had much interaction with him," Paige admits.

Signy's brow furrows slightly. "Political supporters? But...King Random said she swore allegiance to Oberon."

She continues on for a step or two. "Who were her other supporters?"

"Before the Sundering? I honestly couldn't put a name to them. Near five years passed in Amber before I returned and a good bit was different throughout Eric's short reign. During the Interregnum, much of the divisiveness was secondary to survival here in Amber, well, other than the divisions we created for ourselves."

Signy mulls this over before shifting topics slightly. "So how big of a force are you looking to recruit?"

"Big enough to do the job," Paige answers with a grin. "I've been trying to puzzle that out myself. The Treasury can likely support most whatever I find to my liking, since most of the force's larder will come from Broceliande itself, bu the force must be managable as well.

"I'd like to cut most of the inherent bureaucracy from it, but any military or police force needs a clear chain of command and I can't make every important decision," she admits. "Solange or Brita might be better experienced and thus suited for what I've taken upon myself, but I'm the one that's sacrificed to the guardian."

Signy does a double-take. "'Sacrificed to the guardian'...?"

Paige runs a hand over her bare neck and offers a wry smile. "There's a gryphon that lives in the wood there, or between it and its spiritworld reflection. I offered part of myself to it. It chose my hair."

Signy looks interested at the story. "What did the gryphon offer you in return? And how does that offering work with your oath to King Random?"

"Nothing as of yet," Paige admits. "I suppose I'm too trusting a soul." The comment is laced with a suitable amount of sarcasm.

"This is home, or something near it," the redhead says as they draw up before a townhouse. "We'll get someone to fixing a room for you and see if my driver is aware of where we might find Boreal's home."

A grateful smile crosses Signy's face. "So, what does everyone else do for living arrangements? Do most people stay at the Palace?" She stops after this, and blinks twice. "Do...are we given some sort of a stipend?" She looks down at her clothes with some dismay, "This is really all I have with me at the moment. I'll need to go back to the Plain and get my things...."

"In effect we can draw on the royal treasury, or walk shadow to find what we need or the money we need," Paige says, dismounting and tying the horse off. "As to apartments, the stewards will make arrangements for you if you but ask.

"I can point you to a few of the better seamstresses in town if you need and until they get to know you, you can have anything billed to me here," she offers. "I'd offer my own seamstress, but she's one of the possessions I've moved to Xanadu already."

Leading Signy into the foyer, Paige discards her boots and turns to a sitting room to the right. "If you like, I can write a letter of introduction to Boreal for you and have it delivered, arrange dinner or the like?"

Signy trails along in Paige's wake, glancing at Paige's boots worriedly and studying at the floor surface before deciding on if she should advance into the sitting room. "The letter would be a good start," she states, her voice moving quickly into one of assurance. "I think I shall get myself a place, and some clothes, and then see if he is willing to see me this evening." A hint of frustration tinges her voice. "I think if this Lord does not have anything to offer me in regards to my mother, then I would like to reclaim Tomat from the castle and head back to my Band, and see about getting some answers about her from my father."

"As I said, you're welcome to stay here and even entertain as best you can with the staff I still have in residence," Paige offers as she waves her cousin, boots and all, into the sitting room. It's obvious that she only removed her boots for comfort. She sits at a roll top desk, unlocks the hutch and removes paper, pen and ink.

A few servants bustle in and out with discussion on how the Mistress wasn't expected and can they get her or her guest any sort of refreshments. Paige is non-committal about being around for dinner herself, but will request a runner for letters and a bottle of the Riesling. She'll begin writing and await Signy's decision before having a room prepared.

Alan,

While Autumn approaches, I fear I will miss Sommer. Perhaps we could speak before I am off to Arden.

Paige

She folds the note and seals it with golden wax and a unicorn head seal, before starting on another...

Lord Boreal,

As a friend to Captain Marius in addition to being his cousin, I have the privilege to introduce to you his sister...

Paige pauses in writing. "How would you like to present yourself? Lady Signy? Any sort of surname?" A small smile crosses her lips at the idea of Lady Smith.

"Lady Signy," she replies with a blush. "Is it customary to entertain when meeting someone like this?" Unconsciously, her hand starts to finger a minor tear in the sleeve of her shirt.

"Your call," Paige answers. She tilts her head, shaking it slightly at their eight inch difference in height. "I'm sure we can find you something about the house to wear if you need. Folly or Cambina might be closest if we need to raid the Castle, but I've a few items I purchased for Lily that she never wore still here. She's a few inches on you, but we might make something work."

Paige turns back to the page...

Lord Boreal,

As a friend to Captain Marius in addition to being his cousin, I have the privilege to introduce to you his sister Lady Signy. I had hoped you might make an opportunity to speak with her at your earliest convenience. She has few who might offer her the perspective on her mother that a loyal supporter as yourself. My fondest wishes and thanks for your diligence in this matter.

Lady Paige

Paige dusts the page with sand, folds and seals it as she did the other. The first she addresses to Alan leClaire, care of the Prince's Retreat, the second Lord Boreal, with an address she finds in a Regency journal of the peerage.

"Shall we go take a look in the upstairs wardrobe?" Paige offers her cousin after handing the letters off to the runner that arrives.

As the runner leaves, a Naval midshipman arrives. "Begging your ladyships' pardon, the Regent requests your company urgently on a matter of family business," he says to Paige. He seems quite serious.

"Of course," Paige answers. "Is he in residence at the Castle still or has he found his way to the Naval?"

"Our horses are still out front, we will attend him immediately." She starts for the foyer and her discarded boots and begins tugging them on as the midshipman departs. "You've no obligation to respond to our uncle's beck and call, and I can make your apologies if you've else to occupy yourself or don't wish to be bound with family ties just yet."

Paige stands again, stomping the boots quietly on the stone of the hall floor to settle them on her feet. She glances in a mirror to tuck back the inevitable fly-away red locks, and hesitates as she's reminded of the short bob once again. She cocks her head to the left, bites her bottom lip in thought and shrugs before turning back to her cousin.

Signy looks at the midshipman, and then at Paige. A moment of indecision where she visibly pauses as Paige is pulling on her boots, and then she falls quickly in beside Paige. If she has any concerns or questions about tagging along, she doesn't voice them.

"First leaving the Tower with Marius, now this. This is starting to be a trend," she mutters to herself on the way out the door.

Signy has no problem keeping up with Paige on the trip back to the castle, riding along in a competent if unspectacular fashion.

The ride to the castle is competent and unspectacular, and ends at the door to Caine's office.

"I'll tell his excellency that you're here," says the young naval officer in his outer office.

The young man opens the door and the scene is wholly unexpected. It looks as if the regent is under some sort of attack. Prince Caine stands with his hand extended and a vast flood of water spraying at him. There's a rainbow light show, flashing brighter and darker in waves and lasting much longer than the typical trump effect. He's holding on to his desk, both to anchor himself and to keep the flood of waters from washing him away.

"Come through, damn you!", says the regent, his teeth gritted.

Paige fights the chuckle for just a moment, waving at the aide and stepping into the office, keeping well enough back to stay as dry as possible.

Signy steps into the room, taking the chaos in stride. She starts to move towards Caine before realizing that Paige is holding back, when she pauses and glances at a patch of wall next to the door that looks freshly painted.

She edges closer to Caine and tenses as if ready to leap.

No one can look at Caine's hand. It's as if the rainbow coruscating effect of trump is stuck on it, and it's flooding the room. He may have a rainbow hand in his. The floor is awash, and there's a wind like a storm at sea whipping the water everywhere. Caine's papers and some of his desk top accessories are getting whirled around the room.

The regent slips, and the light stays the same. He wraps his legs around the base of his heavy table.

"Help me", he says, almost calmly.

The words are still leaving Caine's lips when Signy reaches his side. She wraps one hand around Caine's wrist right below the Trump effect in a vise-like grip that comes from years working at her father's forge. Her other hand hovers near the ghost-like hand in Caine's, waiting like an adder to strike.

As she crosses to Caine, her gaze sweeps the room to look for anything that could be of use before locking in on the light show in front of her. The muscles in her arm knot as she attempts to pull Caine's hand back towards the two of them.

Paige almost jumps in surprise, moving closer without hesitation once her uncle requests help. She lays a hand on the closest bit of skin she can see, avoiding the coruscating hand, the side of Caine's neck. "Who?" she asks simply as she attempts to join the contact and meld her strength with his.

Paige finds herself looking into a stream of water, and sees Ossian's face floating in front of her. He's twisting around and at least two other people are hanging on to him. Behind him is a maliciously glowing red cyclone in the water, howling like a demon.

Ossian comes through with a great wave, throwing everyone sprawling. He and his two companions land atop Caine, Signy, and Paige. The table has been knocked aside and everyone is in a heap, completely soaked. The midday sun shines through the closed windows, and the fire in the fireplace is quite welcome.

Pinabello, who came through last, rolls off the top of the heap and sits clutching his knees.

As the light show ends, Signy releases Caine's arm and takes a step back, looking in amused disbelief at the shambles that was Caine's office.

"Suddenly, I don't think I feel quite so bad about my entrance the other night, Uncle....."

Brita slowly stands; she shakes herself once, hard, and the water flings off her leaving her dry. Low growls continue to rumble through her and her eyes are wild, as she spreads her fingers wide and thrusts her hands away from her. Sluggishly at first, but quickly gathering speed, the standing water begins fleeing from Brita. Those nearest her become dry fairly quickly. The water begins pooling in the corners of the room.

Paige begins laughing as she levers herself up on her elbows, and finds herself smiling down at her cousin Ossian. She leans in and kisses him gently in greeting while the others are distracted. "Welcome home, cousin."

Ossian grins.

She then sits up and with an amused look at the situation begins to laugh. "Last time I remember a moment like this it was a prelude to black rain. Hells, I hope that cyclone thing wasn't half as ominous as I think it is."

Ossian rises and streches out a hand to Paige, to help her stand up, still smiling he says "Let's hope Rebma survived."

He looks at Pinobello and asks "Pinabello?"

"Pinabello?" repeats Caine, incredulously.

Pinabello nods, but doesn't say anything.

Caine looks at Ossian and Brita. "Start at the beginning," he says.

Ossian, trying to dry the Caine Trump, says. "Let's see. Our cousin Meg has been kidnapped by Dara, who claims to be Meg's mother. So a number of us try to intercept Dara at various places. Brita and I went to Rebma, because we thought Huon where marching there, and that Dara might be with him."

"When we got to Rebma we found that it was preparing for a siege."

Ossian looks at Brita.

After a moment, Ossian notes that the trump is not cold to the touch. Perhaps the water ruined it.

Brita is bent over, her hands resting on her knees. She is shuddering and her breathing is somewhat labored. When Ossian stops talking, she glances up - her eyes, while still a little wild, show some consciousness of her surroundings. Slowly, with evidently forced control, Brita straightens. She takes a deep breath, followed by another and then a third.

[Please confirm that she does not smell any hint of Chaos in the room. She is focused on ensuring Pinabello is not Dara.]

The only smells here are family and water and the smoke from the fire.

Finally she speaks, her words stilted, "Entered under Guise of Visitors from King Corwin's Paris; Met Cousin Jerod and Aunt Llewella; Tasked to Seek Dara; Started at the Bottom and Found the Locked Door." She takes another deep breath. "We Backtracked to Follow a Scent of The Blood and Found Uncle Huon, but One Who Knew Not of Recent Events. He said that Another Walked the Pattern. We Went Back. The Door was Opened and we Found Uncle Pinabello Walking towards a Rift in the Pattern. I Created an Ice Bridge to Span the Unforseen Gap, but Uncle Pinabello Slipped and then Stopped. We Swam Over, Trumped our Amber-ward Uncle, and Wrested the Once Thought Dead from a Now Very Angry Pattern." Brita seems somewhat calmer after the recitation. Her breathing is more even.

Paige bites her lip, obviously brimming with questions, but concedes the floor to her uncle. She waves Signy over to sit on the loveseat beside her, silently offering to make introductions after they puzzle this out further.

Signy's attention wanders between the three new arrivals and Caine, trying to determine what, exactly, is going on, before noticing Paige's wave. Gratefully, she slips over to the loveseat and sinks down beside her, before going back to watching Caine and the new arrivals, sparing Paige a glance to read her reaction and a quick smile of thanks.

Caine nods at Brita's recitation. "The pattern is inanimate. It can't be angry, any more than a mathematical formula can."

"It was!" shouts Pinabello. "It was trying to kill me!"

Caine ignores him and turns to Ossian. "You saved him. What do you want to do with him?"

Before Ossian answers, Brita notes in a calm voice, "The Mathematics of the Rebman Pattern were Decidedly Unbalanced by our Attempts to Remove Our Uncle from the Equation." She tilts her head to the side and gazes at Caine, "Do you Think, Uncle, it was the Formula of the Present or Past that we Disrupted and should we Contact Aunt Llewella to Ensure we did Not Leave them with an Unraveling Reality?"

"A Sundering we know how to deal with, or at least Random does. Salvage what you can and begin anew. But I sailed enough during the Interregnum to be fairly certain that their Pattern was intact, or crevice-less, not too long ago," Paige offers gently, trying to not derail the conversation.

"But we're discussing Time as a continuum, which is the only way that mathematics can handle the equations, so if you're suggesting that Uncle Pinobello and his rescue from the middle of a Patternwalk had dissrupted that, it could account for the vortex, not as anger but as excess energy balancing the equation," she muses, confused at where Pinobello fits in the Family Bramble, but willing to accept Brita's definition.

Signy listens intently, sparing a sympathetic glance for Pinabello.

Caine looks at Paige. "Mathematics is for people who can't intuit the Pattern," says Caine. "A vortex forms to remove impurities, you should hope never to see one, and the last thing Rebma needs now is a sundering." He turns to Ossian. "I'm still waiting for your answer to my question."

Paige looks like she's ready to launch into her uncle on exactly what she intuits about him, but while it gathers behind emerald eyes, she holds her tongue, waiting for Ossian's answer.

Ossian smiles. "Wouldn't be much point in saving him if we killed him, would it? If we are quick, we could maybe avoid war in Rebma. I want to take Pinabello to Random. He's proof that Huon didn't kill him."

Signy watches the interchange between Caine and Brita, her eyes narrowing in thought.

Caine stands up and moves towards the window, which is closed. He looks at it as well as through it.

"Ossian, one of Brand's failures was he only sometimes understood when formal rules mattered and when they didn't. Nobody currently cares if Huon was a fratricide, except perhaps Huon. It might be a good excuse to make peace, but don't think he didn't do something that warranted, in Father's eyes, his punishment.

"We never had proof he'd killed him anyway. The pattern doesn't leave proof if you walk it and shouldn't. For all we knew Pinabello had taken the pattern successfully and gone off permanently into shadow to let his brother take the blame for his death. Huon was imprisoned for disobeying Father on something important. The trick was always figuring out what that meant."

Paige looks at her new Uncle Pinabello, scratching the back of her bare neck. "So, do we let Grandfather's opinions continue to prejudice our actions?" she asks the assembled group.

"I mean no disrespect to him, but he didn't always come out on top, no matter what Cambina's books may or may not suggest. If he did, Corwin would be King here, or something like that," she observes.

"The Sins of the Father," Brita notes, "should Not Fall to his Children. Grandfather was Correct to Punish Uncle Huon for Risking his Brother, but the Penance has been Served. Uncle Pinabello," Brita addresses her resurrected kin, "what do You Want to Do?"

"I don't think visit King Random is optional." Ossian says.

Pinabello's eyes dart from Paige to Caine to Ossian. "King who? What Kingdom are we in? Where's King Oberon?"

Caine's laugh is a ringing baritone, and Pinabello looks even more confused.

"I understand we've just met, and you've no good reason to take my word for it, but I will explain as best I can in brief," Paige offers. "Millennia have passed since you last visited Amber, which is where we are, the Shadow of Amber. I suggest Shadow as an appropriate term as it no longer is an anchor for any of the Powers of Order, save those of Oberon's scions that reside here, if such can be called Powers of their own." Here she offers a nod toward Caine. "Oberon's other children hold places of power since his death, the Jewel of Judgement having been passed to his youngest son, Prince Random, on the horn of our patron, the unicorn. He has since left Amber and founded the Kingdom of Xanadu, as has his brother Prince Corwin also written an anchor for Reality in the Kingdom of Paris."

Brita adds, "Your Brother Huon was Punished for Letting you on the Pattern. He was In Essence Exiled, but has Returned and has brought an Army to Rebma where My Cousin Ossian and I found You."

Signy glances over at Paige. "And I thought Weyland was a pain to deal with..." she murmurs.

Paige smiles, but doesn't comment.

"As for why time has played this trick on us. We have as little a clue as you have."

"But that's unbelievable!"

"Believe it!." snaps Caine. "Amber is now, like Father, a thing of the past. Your home shadow has not been visited in generations, and it is unlikely that anyone you know well, other than Huon, is alive, and he's working to correct that. In ways that you and your brother need to understand to survive, we're not fighting the same fights over the same spoils anymore." Caine stands.

"Which is not to say we're not fighting, just less lethally. Eric is dead, Father is dead, Brand, did you know Brand? Brand is dead. Deirdre is dead. People who couldn't make it in the new world die. If you're not going to be one of those, you'll need to figure out how to get along."

Caine runs a hand through his hair. "We need Random. Who has a dry trump?"

"I can't promise for its level of dampness," Paige says, digging into her leather bag. Her trumps are in an inner pocket, wrapped in nothing stronger than a golden silk scarf. "But last I knew, I had two Randoms mixed in here, one I'm supposed to return to my father. Maybe we'll get lucky and they both won't be bad."

The card is not damaged and the pigment hasn't run. It is not cold to the touch. None of them are.

Paige shuffles through cards, muttering, "They're not active. None of them are." Her eyes are for them only until she sees Ossian's hand in her field of view, hesitantly extending Random's Trump toward him. A multitude of scenarios seem to be running behind her green eyes, deductive and intuitive, both.

Ossian streches out to touch the card. He closes his eyes.

Signy's hand reaches into a pouch at her waist, and stops half-way out, the familiar pasteboard of a Trump in her hand. She watches Paige and Ossian as they attempt contact.

The Random trump is not cold. The one Signy half-pulls from her pouch is not cold either.

Caine's eyes narrow. "Mister Lanyard, come in here!" he bellows in full Amber Navy bellow. The door stubbornly does not get opened by the young officer.

Brita pulls out her Trumps. They too are as before; as if Xanadu was a figment of her imagination. "Uncle, it Appears We have Stopped Time...or Unmade it."

Ossian walks towards the door, intending to open it.

The door does not open. It does not even move. Light comes from the crevices, but Ossian can't see anything in the room beyond. It's like the light originates at the door.

Caine steps over to the window and pulls hard on the handle.

"Is this," Paige waves a Trump at Caine, "related to the Pattern's defensive reaction or to why you called us here in the first place?"

"I called you to tell you that your cousin Cambina is dead. I suggest we concentrate on our own problem now so that we don't find ourselves dead as well."

Caine pulls on the handle again and it breaks off in his hand. He stands there, looking at the broken latch on the still-closed window.

"Time is stopped or unmade, " he says, nodding to Brita, "or something else is going on. The floor is now open for suggestions on how to fix this."

"We could Attempt Sorcery," Brita offers. "Part the Veil to See if We can Reach Outward Beyond This Room and This Time."

Ossian looks at Brita with a grin "Except for the hideous sound, what's the worst that could happen?"

Paige draws out her sketch book, flipping for sketches of her children. No Trump energy has ever flowed through these thumbnails and even the full page studies of Leif and Brooke, but they help the redhead focus. She reaches out her feelings toward the twins, worried for their safety in Xanadu.

Paige senses nothing unusual or disturbing.

Pinabello steps over to a side table and picks up a heavy leather book. He examines it in detail, and speaks, starting slowing but picking up speed. "The pages, they're not really real. There's just the page it's opened to and a that just has lines, not words. It's like it's sculpted."

Caine looks a Brita. "I have no idea what the worst thing that could happen is, but I have no other ideas. Anyone else? If someone has a more gentle approach let us know before Brita starts abusing the universe."

Signy lets the conversation fade into the background as she reaches inwards to where her Sorcerous power lies coiled within. Her breathing slows and her eyes unfocus slightly as she sends tendrils of intent questing towards the door, looking to see if the the threads that bind the individual fibers of wood together are there, waiting to be pulled and unravelled.

Whatever else this place is, it is a huge dampener of sorcerous power. It takes all her power to even send those tendrils out. It takes quite an effort and Signy knows she cannot keep it up for long. There's no way she can actually attempt to manipulate the wood. She hasn't felt this sorcerously powerless since she was first learning the art.

She does discover something, though. The door isn't made of wood, at least not in any meaningful way. It's like there's some vast fibrous material that everything is made of that's all connected; doors, windows, desks--everything but the people. And if it's not impervious to magic, it seems to be effectively impervious to her magic.

Paige returns her sketchbook and walks to the window. "I've got nothing, but I can still sense the twins," she offers. "For whatever that might be worth."

"Unless someone wanted to try shifting Shadow, maybe by pacing about the room?"

Ossian shakes his head.

Caine looks back at the window. "It's not a risk, unless you walk to someplace that doesn't allow you to breathe. I'd suggest we try manipulating probability first, since that's less difficult." He looks at Pinabello. "I wonder if this was designed as a trap for you..."

Pinabello glares at him, but says nothing.

Brita nods briskly in response to her Uncle's suggestion. Her eyes follow the direction of Caine's gaze to Pinabello and rest on the book he has in hand. She wanders over to stand beside him and reaches to turn to the next page of the book, sure that the one that follows this odd page that Pinabello's fingers can't seem to grasp and turn must have a picture to go with the odd story.

[She's trying to affect a small probability space. One item, like the red flower around the corner...]

Brita can't affect probability here. It's as if she was in Castle Xanadu.

Signy rises slowly and walks a couple of steps away from the couch.. "This place....just eats my Sorcery," she says, a note of concern in her voice. Her eyes dart around briefly, before starting a methodical scan of the surroundings. "Though 'eat' doesn't quite feel right. More as if I'm pushing against a heavy weight, one I only have enough strength to push against for a short time." She finishes her sweep of the room, her eyes passing over the occupants before stopping with Pinabello, looking through him with eyes unfocused. "This room is...different." Her voice catches, as she stumbles over how to describe what she is seeing. "It's like we're trapped inside some giant box all of a sudden. It's not a room any more....."

[Checking specifically on some of the things in the room (e.g. Caine's wooden desk), and also the people. Anything stand out here?]

[Quick update/add-on -- I'm also paying particular attention to Pinobello, here. Anything unusuall? What about in comparison to one of the Amberites next to him?]

It feels to Signy like she's looking into the sun. Everything is amazingly bright to her third eye, and she can barely open it. It's painful to do. All of her cousins and Uncle Caine burn brightly in her mystical vision, in the way that matches her own inner fire. Uncle Pinabello is not as bright, but moreso than the average member of Signy's former band of heroes.

"Box?" asks Caine, sharply. "What makes you call it that?"

Signy releases her Sorcery, and almost staggers from no longer having to fight the oppressive weight of whatever the room has become. She shuts her eyes tightly, and then opens them, blinking rapidly for a second. "This whole place is blurred together," she states, gesturing at the room. "Everything has been...changed. The door, the walls, your desk, it's like someone carved a replica of your office out of some strange material, and then placed us in it." She runs her hands through her hair, and looks at Caine. "We can't open the door or windows because it's like someone just carved the outlines of a door or a window into the walls of whatever it is that we're in...."

After Signy answers, Brita notes, "Working Probability does not Appear to Function, as if we are Too Close to a Reality. Perhaps, if All do a Specific Sorcery Together, we could Sustain the Change for Longer than One Alone."

"I can't help with that." Ossian says "But it's worth a try.

"Another hypothesis would be that the walls of this room are something akin to the Great Veil. If your sorcery doesn't work. I will try walking through one of the walls."

Paige rubs at the bare nape of her neck. "Whoever created this trap for our long lost uncle would've considered that, Grandfather most likely," she muses out loud. "He proved that he could step outside time if he manipulated Uncle Benedict's silver arm, so why not a trap beyond it?

"What premises would he have been working on? Likely that Uncle Pinabello wouldn't have completed the Pattern and thus be fully attuned to it perhaps? But family, with enough momentum should be able to pierce a Veil. He wouldn't have counted on our numbers from the inside, but how to bring them to bear..."

As Paige trails off, Signy looks at her. "Maybe -- but one other thing I did see is that our new cousin doesn't show up quite the same as the rest of us. When I was Looking at everyone, there was a blazing light that almost blinded me. He shone as well, but not as bright as anyone else." She looks at Pinobello thoughtfully. "If he didn't finish the Pattern, then maybe he's the one that needs to attempt walking through?"

Pinabello scrambles to his feet and backs up towards the fireplace. "What's that supposed to mean? That I'm half-dead, and you want to get me the rest of the way there?" He looks like he's starting to panic.

Paige walks over to him slowly, shaking her head gently. She sets a hand on his arm, reassuringly (if he allows). "No, I think Signy has it backward," the redhead begins. "I won't try to work the math, but my intuition says that when Grandfather built this he was counting on the fact that you wouldn't have completed the Pattern but might have had Trumps on you. Our strength individually is greater than he would've expected just because we've come fully into that birthright, but I would expect him to have allowed for some margin of error."

The corner of her mouth quirks as she adds, "Children have a uncanny knack for surprising their parents.

"So, how do you intuit a group working of Orderly power?" Paige asks the room. "Or are we still talking about stripping warp from weft in the fabric of the universe?"

"Sorcery first, I'd say." Ossian says.

Signy frowns slightly. "Was it common for...Grandfather to do this sort of thing?" she asks, a dubious tone in her voice.

Ossian looks at Caine.

Brita also looks to Caine.

Caine looks nonplussed. "No, usually he farmed out his dirty work. First to me, then to Bleys when I grew a backbone and a conscience." He looks at Paige. "Does this look like something your father might have come up with?"

Paige considers for a moment, remembering her father in a Trump call, an electrical storm raging behind him, trying to recall if it had matched the vortex in any manner. She shakes her head, short red hair almost bouncing with the movement."I can't be sure. Yes, I can see him doing something like this, but I've never seen him do it first hand."

Ossian nods. "Especially with my grandfather's help."

Signy looks puzzled. "So...there are safeguards in place so that people cannot walk the Pattern without approval...?"

Caine shrugs. "There were safeguards in the old days. "One: nobody was told about it. Two: It was in a locked room. Three: Anyone who walked it who shouldn't, died. and Four: Those who lived had to deal with Oberon."

He turns to Paige. "I was hoping you might know more. Unfortunately we can't call Bleys and ask. Brita, I think your idea is next."

Paige bites her bottom lip and tilts her head. "Just a thought. If this place is as bright to the Sight as Signy suggests, then something must be powering it. If this was my trap, it would be a closed circuit, using the prisoner's own strength against him or her.

"I don't have the sorcerous theory, but what happens when we break that circuit by rending reality?"

Signy shakes her head at Paige's words. "The room itself wasn't bright -- it was the people in it."

She looks over at Caine. "When you say that the people that shouldn't walk it died, did any of them go through what he did," as she gestures at Pinobello. "And why did Oberon say 'No' to him?"

Caine is about to respond to Signy when Ossian speaks.

"With all due respect." Ossian says "The way this, possibly unstable, bubble works is a necessary discussion topic. But let us wait with the discussion of the finer points of Oberon's morality.

"Us shining bright could mean that we are radiating the energy that powers the trap. Which would mean Pinabello is not."

[Does Pinabello smell more like her father Vidar and Solace or like full fledged Family?]

It's... difficult. Everything here smells like wet paper. He definitely has some family blood mixed with lots of other things. Plus, he just came from Rebma, so the water has an effect on his smell...

Brita is thinking hard. "Perhaps a Shunt to Shift Our Blood-Brightness and the Source of the Power enough in Space or perhaps," she glances around the small room," Time to Disrupt this Bubble Trap?"

Caine raises an eyebrow, looking remarkably unlike Julian. "Is there a redheaded consensus? I want to exhaust your ideas before we try this my way..."

Paige spreads her hands. "My father keeps reminding me that I dabble too broadly, not mastering any disciplines. I am far from the most accomplished Artist here, whether the medium be Trump," a nod toward Brita and Ossian, "or Pattern," her eyes flick to Caine, "let alone Sorcery of which I know next to nothing." The last look is for Signy and back to Brita.

"We can't fuck our way out of here, so I feel fairly useless," she concludes with a wicked grin.

Brita's eyes follow Paige's to glance at Signy. She addresses her comments back to Caine, "My Skills in Sorcery are Not Great. My Redheaded Sense is that it would be Best to Utilize the Skills of which we have the Most In Common among Us. Sorcery is One Option, but there May Be only Us Two," she indicates Signy and herself," with Any Skill in It." The statement comes out as a question as she glances at Pinabello and Caine in turn. "Of Trump Artistry, we have More Skill," here she indicates Paige, Ossian, and herself, "but that will take More Time to Enact. Of Pattern, we have the Most Strength; but, if the Bubble Trap is Powered by Pattern, Using Pattern may only Bind us Tighter Within."

She glances around the room at the others, the question in her eyes soliciting comments. She then asks Caine, "What is Your Way, Uncle Caine?"

Ossian stays quiet.

Signy nods at Brita's question to Caine. "And what were Oberon's objections to Pinabello walking? Knowing this might help figure out what was done."

Caine looks at Signy. "Oberon was unlikely to ever tell any of us his reasons for anything." He turns to his recently rescued nephew. "Do you have any idea?"

Pinabello shakes his head, looking miserable. "He said it would kill me."

Caine shrugs. "That's more than his usual." He turns to Brita. "My way? My way will depend more on figuring out the nature of the trap. 'What's different here', 'what is it like', 'how was it sprung', 'what is it made of', questions like that.

"We need to question our assumptions. What if this is what always happens when you trump someone during the middle of a patternwalk?"

Ossian shakes his head "I should have tried more math. Does anyone know how we find out what this is?"

Ossian starts sensing about. Even if the Trumps are not Trumps, what about the room, or the people?

The room is entirely like a trump. It's as if someone made a trump not of a place, but of another trump, and stepped into that trump.

"It's an image if not a painting," Paige suggests as she reaches out with her own awareness. "If Pinabello isn't as bright, it could be because he's not been initiated into the system of Trumps. Could it be a Trump construct, like a sculpture of sorts?"

Signy glances over at Pinobello. "Do we have any idea how it is that Brita and Ossian were able to meet up with Pinobello in the first place?" She looks at Caine for a second, before continuing. "It seems that either Pinobello's been in hiding and just now came back to walk the Pattern, or else there was something else going on -- what sort of magics would bring two different times together? I'm pretty sure that the Pattern would overwhelm just about any Sorcery that I'd attempt....."

"We Met Uncle Huon as well, Prior to Finding Uncle Pinabello. I Believe this was a Younger Huon. I Do Not believe Uncle Huon is A Sorcerer, but Perhaps His Present Self Triggered the Link." Brita has cautiously opened her third eye to examine the room, avoiding the people as much as possible. Does it look Trump-like at all?

To Brita, it's mostly one white blob. Even things that aren't normally visible to her third eye (like furniture) are part of it.

Pinabello sighs. "Huon led me to Rebma from Amber. We entered a cave and walked a long distance underground, past many odd things that he told me it was better to know not of. Eventually, we came to a barred passageway. He ... " Pinabello looks confused. "He did something and I was on the other side of the bars. He directed me to the pattern room and gave me the key. I did what every prince and son of Oberon does, and went and walked it. I assumed that they were illusions to distract me and make me fail, as my brother had warned me. It may still be true. I cannot prove one way or another that I am not standing on the pattern, failing to push my foot forward."

Caine grunts. "Save the solipsism. While I would prefer you were right, this is not solely about you and your indecision. We're all here."

Ossian, who has been concentrating, suddenly blurts out "We are inside a Trump. Sort of. Or Trump is the force that keeps this bubble from falling apart. Does anyone know if one can communicate from inside a Trump?"

Ossian does not wait long for an answer, and steps close to the wall, pressing both his palms against it, and tries to visualise Folly.

Ossian tries to form the requisite more-real-than-real image and does not find himself able to do so. There's some tie between the medium and the image that's missing.

Brita nods, "Cousin Ossian's Assessment would seem to Explain my View of the Room." She glances at Ossian and notes his concentration. "Other than Attempting to Use the Trump Conduit from Within, we could also Attempt to Modify the Trump from Within." She glances at Paige. "We have Supplies," she notes as she draws out a small travel case of oil crayons from her jacket.

Signy listens to Ossian and Brita with rapt fascination, then takes a couple of steps to the side so she can reach out and touch a wall. On a whim, she thinks of her brother, and reaches out with her mind.

Signy can't get the image to stabilize in her mind with the concreteness that the trumps have held. She's not clear what she can do differently to make it work.

Paige opens her own satchel and removes her own supplies with a smile to her cousin. "Could we design a Trump as part of a Trump?" she muses. "It would be like trying to contact the location in one of the family cards instead of the family, only possible if the artist captured enough of the room's True Image, I would suppose. And I've never tried creation as a joint proccess, at least not with Trumps."

"I was Wondering if we could Modify This Trump Enough to Free Ourselves," Brita says glancing around the room. "An Open Door or Broken Window, perhaps," she gestures towards the door and window. "Something Small Might initially Help Test the Theory." Are there any blank papers out on the desk?

Close examination of the desk suggests that it is made of the same fibrous material as the book and the door. There are papers of the same stuff strewn about. All of those are blank on the back, even those which should not be.

Caine steps over to Pinabello, and the two speak in low voices.

Signy frowns, and then cocks her head to the side as Caine moves. A thoughtful look enters her eyes, and she attempts to reach out to Caine the same way she had tried to reach her brother moments ago.

Caine frowns and rubs his temple, but there is no other indication that he might have been contacted.

When she finishes, it's clear that the trump artists all need more time.

Paige sits down and, like one of the twins before they knew better, begins sketching on the wall nearest her, willing her Art into being, her focus her latest subject, one she only finished hours ago, the King.

Paige works at the trump and feels the sketch trying to work, but it just never jells. Trumps are always harder when someone is absent, of course.

Brita watches Paige move to the wall for a moment and then moves to the desk. She bends over it, avoiding sitting in Caine's chair, and begins to sketch on one of the pages. Working to modify the 'Trump', she sketches a pencil lying atop the page. She is attempting to see if she can make the Trump Pencil come out of the page and be 'real' as other objects are in the room.

Brita tries this and it's hard. It reminds her of Master Reid's lessons. It feels as if she's deliberately trying to add features to a trump that aren't right. It has that "about to ruin the trump" feel to it, but in the end, she has a pencil drawing of a pencil.

Ossian looks at his cousins efforts, smiling. He picks up a sheet of paper, looks at it, and folds it a few times. Then he unfolds it, and starts sketching. It looks like a self portrait.

After about a watch, Ossian has a decent trump sketch of himself completed. It is not cold to the touch, but he hasn't tried it, either.

Brita utters a soft 'humph' at the drawing. So, the image shouldn't be here, in Caine's office. She waits until Ossian and Paige are done with their efforts before approaching them. "I attempted to Add to This Trump and it was Distinctly Difficult, as if the Pencil was not Supposed to be Part of the Picture. Do you Think We could Add Something or Someone that Should be Part of the Image and that would Aid Us in Attempting to Escape? Perhaps an Open Door?" and she gestures to the door.

Ossian nods. "That's a very good idea" From his Trump sketch he folds a little origamy bird, that can be flattened but returns to a 3D-shape when not under pressure. He tries to push the flattened bird under the door.

Ossian finds that he is unable to push it under the door. At some point, there stops being a separation between the door and the floor below it.

Signy sighs, and drops the attempt at Trump contact. She walks closer to Caine, and looks at him quizzically. "Did Oberon ever have you do anything like this?"

Caine laughs, humorlessly. "No, this was not really the kind of thing he had me do. He'd've chosen a magician if he wanted to do something like this. He tended to be more ... direct than this."

Paige spins on the floor to face her uncle. "In fact while it might've been the Troublemaker's style, this seems more like Maestro's Art."

Ossian who has taken Brita by the arm looks at Caine briefly.

"Let's paint an open door here. Preferably connecting to some place real." he whispers to her.

"It should Be the Real Door," Brita notes, pointing to the closed door. She will move there with Ossian. She contemplates the canvas. "Perhaps a Partially Opened Door, cracked Just Enough to See a Portion of the Hallway Beyond, or Whatever is Beyond. We must Be Accurate and thus must Consult with Uncle Caine on the Beyond of the Door. I can Begin by Adjusting the Door Itself." She moves up and sketches a light line about a foot in from the left side of the door (assuming the left is where the handle is located). "The Door would be Open This Much. We Need to Get the Place Beyond Perfect." She then starts to adjust the perspective of the door starting from the right side, drawing the grain of the wood closer together as it would seem if the door were slanted inward. [Does the door come inward nominally?]

[yes!]

Ossian shakes his head. "I am not sure it would be enough to let the door lead back to Amber. Amber is not anchored anymore. But let's do the door first." Ossian starts working on the door frame, carefully matching the perspective dictated by Brita.

Brita nods. "If this does Not Work, we can Attempt to Modify the View."

[Brita] stops after a few strokes and turns back to Ossian, "Perhaps this would be Easier if it were the Window? The view Mostly Remains the Same, just the Framing of the Window Changes; Unless, of course, it is Smudged, then the Smudges would Move."

Caine looks back at Paige. "I don't see how it could be his. The room looks like my office at the castle, which was a parlor until I took it over. In any case, given Corwin and Benedict's stories, I don't think Brand had a way to stop someone from walking the pattern."

"Then it's his Master's, as I can't think of anyone else with this sort of skill in the Art," Paige decides. "Not that you would know with certainty, but has Dworkin visited since you've converted it?"

"As much as I hate to say this, noone needs to have constructed this. It could be a natural phenomenon." Ossian says over his shoulder.

Signy listens to the Trump artists, before turning back to Caine. "You never answered my earlier questions -- did any of them go through what he did," as she gestures at Pinobello. "And why did Oberon say 'No' to him?"

Caine looks at Signy. "I've no idea. Perhaps he knew it would one day endanger his beloved son, Caine. Perhaps he didn't think his mother had been entirely truthful about his parentage. As to the first question, I also have no idea. I've never heard of anyone going through this." He pauses. "Not that it's unpleasant, just damned inconvenient." He taps his desk. "Time is odd here. The candles and the fire are bright, but the wood and wax isn't being consumed."

Brita takes note of the mention of time, but continues working on the door. She further details the grain and begins to draw in the top and bottom of the door as if it were open. She leaves the detail of the exterior space blank for now.

Ossian now and then leaves his own painting to do small alterings to Brita's. He does this without any comment.

Ossian turns to Caine: "Let's for the moment suppose Amber Castle is intact. Which room are we in? What corridor should be beyond that door?"

Paige continues on with her sketch of Random, determined to not create a Trump of her last Trump, but of her last subject.

Signy shakes her head. "When Pinabello walked the Pattern the first time, what happened?"

Brita is all ears as she continues to paint diligently.

Pinabello comes over. "I've only walked it once, and I got interrupted by your cousins."

Caine says "Father said that Huon had put him on the pattern unprepared and that he died, and that Huon was banished to a place he could not return from and could not be trumped at and was never to be spoken of again."

Ossian starts filling in the narrow slit of corridor that can be seen trough the slightly open door. Now and then he stops to add small lighting effects do door and doorframe.

Ossian works on this for a while. It occurs to him that he is making the closed door stronger rather than weaker by adding more details. It's not clear to him how to add something to the trump that can move.

Never looking away from her sketch on the wall, Paige comments, "Obviously he didn't count on the reordering of the universe at a primal level, sundering not only Amber but the protections he placed about your brother's prison.

"Either he was unaware that Pinabello had been drawn forward in time, or his perception was limited by his death in this branch of the time stream," she muses. "Either is possible and neither constructive. My hope is that we've not been drawn into Huon's prison for interacting with his brother's Patternwalk. Worse yet would be if Huon finds out who is truly to blame for his incarceration."

The sarcasm is evident as she adds, "Of course if that's true, all we need to realize our freedom if for an actual Sundering of the Rebman Pattern."

Caine looks skeptical. "Or he didn't care if he didn't tell us the truth so long as he got what he wanted that day. Had anyone checked the Rebman Pattern before Pinabello was found on it? Why wouldn't it be sundered?"

"The Door was Locked when we First Approached, but the Scent of Uncle Huon's Tobacco was Present. When we Approached Again, the Way was Open and Uncle Pinabello was Walking." Brita notes. She has started to go back over some of the detail of the door, smudging a bit to look like the door is in motion. She is pushing hard on the Trump to bend to her Will. "Believe the Door is Opening," she says as an aside to Ossian.

Ossian quickly catches on, grinning. He adds some more movement effects.

[Is Brita starting to activate the Trump, Monica? If so, the following applies:]

[Brita is trying to push the Trump open. I suppose that equates to activating the Trump.]

Ossian adds his less forceful, but more subtle Trump handling to Britas, and imagines the slight draft that would come when the door opens.

Brita continues to paint and push at the Trump around them.

The door does not open. It feels not exactly like a failed trump, but it feels to Ossian and Brita as if the place they've painted is somehow wrong. It's a closed door, after all, which isn't conducive to them going through it.

Caine is watching what Ossian and Brita are doing and frowning.

Brita gives a frustrated sigh. "This is Not Working," she notes for the group at large. As she waits for others to complete their attempts, she ponders how they got here. They came from water, seemingly arriving with water to this dry spot. She moves to the lean against a nearby wall and closes her eyes. Using the Senses of her water goddess heritage, she seeks outward for Her element.

Either there is no water in this shadow at all, or Brita cannot find in within the limits of her abilities. None that is outside this room in any case.

Brita nods in acknowledgment. "No Water Nearby." She states for the room.

Signy walks over to one of the couches, pulling a dagger from her belt. "So, there's multiple Patterns? Do any others have this rift in them?" As she reaches the couch, she gives it a considering look, unconsciously hefting the dagger in her hand.

Paige shakes her head. "The Pattern in Amber was Sundered, it's no longer there, but the rift and a ressonance of sorts seems to."

Paige puts the last few strokes onto the trump sketch she's working on. It doesn't seem as if it will be long-lived, but it seems right. It's cold to the touch.

Pinabello watches Signy nervously and his hand goes to the hilt of the short sword by his side.

Caine clears his throat. "Since you two are being so blatant about it, I might as well set the rules. If we have to kill you to escape, we will. While it's not our first choice, it's also not something you can prevent."

Pinabello steps back against the wall. "Don't try it." he says, his sword not quite out of his sheath.

Brita pushes off the wall, "Yes, Uncle Caine. Don't Try it. Do You have a Suggestion for a Real Way to Release us?"

Ossian smiles. "Any luck with your sketch, Paige?"

Signy ceases looking at the wall and turns to Paige. "If we're in a Trump," she begins slowly, "then could we not cut our way out of it? What happens if a Trump is cut, Pattern-wise?"

If she noticed Caine and Pinobello's byplay, she gives no sign of it.

Caine smiles back at Brita. "None that I am willing to try at this point. Continue with your efforts." He turns to Signy. "A trump that is sufficiently damaged does not work. Prior to the current era, there were not adequate trumps to experiment on to see what the amount required was." He pauses.

"The only trump I know of that was intentionally damaged was Martin's, by Brand. Martin managed to survive that."

Uncles can be So Helpful thinks Brita who does not return Caine's smile. She takes out her small set of Trumps and shuffles briefly through them and then returns them to her pocket case. [Assuming none are Alive to the touch] She then withdraws her knife and stands waiting with head lowered, her head cocked slightly to hear Paige's response to Ossian's query.

Pinabello looks even more alarmed, if such a thing is possible. "Who's Martin? What happened to Martin?"

"Someone tried to kill him. With the help of a Trump.

"Not this way, mind you" Ossian adds.

Signy sheathes her dagger with a peeved expression on her face, before crossing her arms and looking at Paige's efforts.

Paige seems completely engrossed in finishing her trump sketch; it's as if she didn't hear any of the questions to her. Signy sees a portrait of the King. It looks almost primal, but is clearly and in some way definitively Random. It seems as if he could reach out and touch him.

[Let me know if she actually touches it or Paige.]

"No," says Caine, "not like this. It was from all accounts much more up-close and personal."

Pinobello presses back into the wall, as if trying to escape by sheer desire.

"It's the Pattern and the connection between them and the Trumps, but I'm too much of a dabbler to know it or even see it," Paige mutters to herself, using her left thumb to smudge and fill the suggestion of a throne behind her sketch of Random. "Initiates into the system, but what system? He's strong enough to survive the drawing, but the twins, they're not formed enough," she rambles. "The anchor imposes Order, tying psyche to form and allowing contact with that, but Merlin's Trump continued to work after he walked the Paris anchor." She's still focused on the sketch of Random, but seems more aware of her surroundings, perhaps.

Ossian grins. "We can learn something here. Random has drawn a Pattern. I wonder what would happen if we try to draw someone who hasn't. Say Gerard?"

Brita moves towards Paige, her eyes on the emerging King. "You Sound like Great-Grandfather Dworkin, Cousin Paige," she says. She waves her dagger at the image, "Your Trump Appears to be Taking on Aspects of the Real King of Pattern Xanadu in this Trump Trap of Pattern Rebma Origin."

Caine steps over behind Paige and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Good, " says Caine. "How long until it's done? Do any of you know Corwin well enough to draw him?"

Signy watches Paige work, unobtrusively watching Pinobello out of the corner of her eye.

Brita, dagger still in hand, responds to Caine's question, "I do Not Know our Uncle Well Enough. I could Draw only my Mother and Brother from Memory, Neither of whom have Formed a Known Pattern To Now. I could Attempt to Draw Great-Grandfather Dworkin, but my Memories of Him are from my Childhood."

Ossian smiles weakly. "I can try Corwin. No promises, though."

He immediately starts painting.

While it will take a while to complete, the trump sketch seems well on its way to working.

"This looks good. Try to sketch your mother, Brita. Can you try someone, like your father, or Gerard?" Ossian asks Paige. "That way, we'll at least have more than one sample to learn stuff from."

Brita starts a Sketch of her Mother on a third wall.

Paige puts the final touches on the trump sketch. It's done.

[Who uses it?]

Ossian is tempted, and will try, if Paige allows him to.

Paige [allows Ossian to try the sketch].

Brita appears focused on her Trump Sketch of Fiona.

"Mother," the others hear Brita address her Sketch, "Several of Us Including Uncle Pinnabello are Traped in a Trump-Like Rendition of Uncle Caine's Office. Help me Hold This Connection while I Assess if Cousin Paige's Sketch of King Random has Also Worked." With that brief assessment, she rotates slightly to put the rest of the room in her peripheral vision. She address the room, "I have Contacted Mother-Princess Fiona."

Ossian gently prods the Sketch with his mind, hoping to get in contact with Random.

Signy glances at Caine briefly, before stilling her mind and reaching out to the King through the sketch on the wall.

Ossian and Signy concentrate on the picture of Random. It's not the best picture, given that it's drawn on a wall, but Paige's neat hand and expert skill have made what sem to be a working trump.

"This is getting ridiculous," answers Random. "There's no more room on this thumb, really."

Ossian smiles. "Well, we are sort of squeezed in over here. We were hoping you might be able to help us out of this place."

Signy nods. "We brought someone over from the middle of a Patternwalk, and now we're kinda stuck. We needed Paige to create this Trump that we're using to contact you."

Random sighs. "Paige, too? Alright, we'll make room for four more. We'll just have to breathe in shifts. Come through." He holds out his hand.

The group hears Brita say "Certain as I Can Be, Mother."

Signy blinks in surprise. "It worked." She quickly regains her composure, and readies herself to start passing others through.

"Well, actually there's six of us," she says, somewhat sheepishly. "It's...complicated."

Brita says something softly, a few words drift to the rest, "...Worked....Through You....the King...Best...Uncle Caine"

"Six?" says Random. "OK, start sending 'em through."

Ossian streches out a hand behind his back. "Come through to the king."

In the background, Brita is still speaking softly. "...Uncle Pinabello... Pattern Rebma ...Trap...Risk ...." Brita has grasped Pinabello's hand. Her voice carries to the rest of the group, "I will Go to King Random and Report."

***

It takes a moment for the trump to resolve into Fiona's visage. She appears to be in some kind of laboratory, gathering things up. "Brita!" she says, a smile appearing on her face. "How are you?"

"Mother, Several of Us Including Uncle Pinnabello are Traped in a Trump-Like Rendition of Uncle Caine's Office. Help me Hold This Connection while I Assess if Cousin Paige's Sketch of King Random has Also Worked." With that brief assessment, she rotates slightly to put the rest of the room in her peripheral vision, remaining with one hand in contact with the Sketch. She address the room, "I have Contacted Mother-Princess Fiona."

The contact solidifies instantly. Fiona reaches through the contact to lay a hand on Brita, as if to snatch her out of trouble. "Pinabello? Huon's brother? But he's been dead for centuries. Are you sure it's not an imposter?"

Brita nods in response, "Certain as I Can Be, Mother." She finds Pinabello in her range of vision and offers him a hand as well.

Pinabello grabs her hand, asking "Does this mean we can leave?"

Brita nods absently in response.

As she hears Signy and Ossian make contact with Random, Brita says softly to her mother, "Cousin Paige's Trump has Worked, Mother. We can Come Through to You or Join the Rest with The King. I Think it Might be Best to Go With Uncle Caine for Now."

"Caine is welcome here, as are you and Pinabello." Fiona smiles at Pinabello. "You can come through if you wish, or go to Random." Through the contact, Brita can feel her mother's interest in the young man: curiosity and concern, but with an analytical distance.

Still softly, Brita says "Mother, Saving Uncle Pinabello from Pattern Rebma likely Triggered this Trap. If you are Willing to Risk the Trap Following, I can Pass him Through." She draws her Uncle forward a little. She says in a more normal voice, "I will Go to King Random and Report."

"I'll take my chances," Fiona says, and reaches for Pinabello. He grabs her hand, and there's a moment when it seems he will pass through safely, and then he makes a noise that might be the beginning of a scream, and Brita feels a sudden warmth. Then silver fire seems to take him from inside and there's a half-second of burning, and Brita can feel his hand in hers crumble to dust.

The trump connection breaks as Pinabello burns. Brita's trump of Fiona is still in her other hand, unconsumed.

The room around Brita has started a familiar rainbow coruscation. Brita has a Very Bad Feeling about this, as if she should get out while there's a here to get out of.

As Pinabello begins to burn, Brita swears viciously, her voice rough and very un-Brita like. Living with Viking Warriors, she's picked up some choice oaths over the years. While still lacing the air around her with a chilly diatribe at the loss of her uncle, she turns and practically leaps across the space to Paige's Sketch of the King.

***

Caine glances back even as he's taking Ossian's hand to join the contact. Thus he's one of the ones who sees Pinabello burn and crumble in silvery fire, and he curses violently in a language none of the rest of the group in the room recognizes immediately.

To those with any sense of power, they can feel a great burst of Order for a moment.

Everyone can see the edges and corners of the room start with the rainbow effect most of them associate with Trumps. All those with significant experience with Trumps, and particularly the artists, have a very bad feeling about this, as though they should vacate the premises immediately.

"Everyone out of here, now!" Caine yells.

Signy calmly reaches out to Random and passes through the Trump.

Brita, swearing viciously in a chilly voice that is very unlike her, turns and practically leaps across the space to Paige's Sketch of the King. She reaches out to follow Ossian through the Trump.

Signy goes through the trump, closely followed by Ossian and Brita. Caine grabs Paige by the waist and pulls her through. The room is starting to feel odd, as if it is stretching and contracting in waves.

The trump transit is wrong. Everyone is inside the looking glass with Random, and it's good that everyone has superhuman strength, because wherever they are is trying to tear them apart from each other or maybe just apart, and all of them and maybe Random too are flowing and changing like Tam Lin in the arms of his lover and it's kind of hard to tell where each person ends and the next begins if either of them does begin or end or if any of them exists at all ...


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Last modified: 31 January 2009