Tending the Injured

Folly leads the group of less-injured archivists, and others who wish to join them, down the hall to the card room. Pages are bringing water and cups, and simple nourishment with an emphasis on fluids in a mix of Rebman and Xanadhavian flavors: broths with seafood, fruits, crudite vegetables. And sandwiches, for cousins who may join and want to grab a quick bite.

She gets their guests settled and gently urges them to drink, and to eat a little, making clear that she can send for more if needed. She hums a soothing little tune as she works.

"How did you all end up with the Klybesians?" she asks the group. While listening to the answer, she begins quietly checking in with the archivists one by one about any lingering injuries or discomfort she might be able to help with -- or if any of her more medically-trained relatives join, she will let them take the lead while she provides assistance.

Kyril is here, tending to anyone who needs tending to. Most of the wounds were treated days ago, and expertly, but not by people who had Rebma's interests at heart.

Carina looks to Tomat, and nods. He is junior-most, so he recites first.

"We sailed, as ordered, my Queen, from Xanadu's crescent bay for Paris by way of the Seine. From the light at Cabra to the light at Honfleur was remarkably smooth and we spent the time practicing our recitations of the events we had witnessed, and made sure each archivist had a complete record as we knew it.

"We flew the Unicorn Jack, or naval flag, so that King Corwin's agents would know that a Prince was aboard.

"After the ship passed Honfleur, as we were picking up speed to take the last hundred miles to Paris, our kidnappers raised a chain in the river. We were too close and going too fast, and the ship was wrecked. A boarding party came aboard as we were sinking. They were looking for Prince Huon, although they did not recognize his unconscious form. I was later told that he had saved Descant and another archivist and was hit from behind by the raiders. They believed the story that we were Rebman court officials--"

Celina frowns. The flag told them a prince was aboard, but not so 'Huon'. Where did they get such information?

"Which is true," Carina interjects.

Tomat nods. "Which Archivist Carina told them. They took us through diverse shadow paths to the dock at their hospital. It can't have been more than 50 miles across the channel from Honfleur.

"Prince Huon awoke in a wrothful state, but as we were separated, decided to find out what he could before breaking the Klybesian compound."

Celina moves among the Archivists with a series of gentle touches and words. She distributes ginger water. She listens if they have need to pass on summary of their adventures.

They are doing well, considering. They seem quite reassured by Queen Celina's presence and concern. They all seem to be memorizing Tomat's telling of the event. Archivists, in Celina's experience, can't stop themselves from learning a new telling.

Celina mouths thank you to Folly as their glances meet.

Folly replies with a slight head-bow; she is glad to help.

Celina settles to observe all the faces. She looks from Tomat to the Senior Archivist. "So a fixed route from Paris to the hospital they followed by rutter? Did the men talk at all about the placement of the shipbreaker chain being recent? Did you notice if they took time to reset the chain or did they abandoned it? Did anyone in their party speak as if to someone who was not present?"

"...And were they looking for Huon specifically, by name, or just 'the prince'?" asks Folly, who clearly has noticed the same thing Celina did in the telling.

"I don't think they said 'Prince Huon', my Lady. They didn't seem to know who Huon was. It's one of the reasons he was annoyed, after he regained consciousness. They couldn't figure out what to do without a captive, so they just took us all.

"I don't know which of your uncles they expected to catch like that and not have him kill them all on the spot, to be honest."

The Rebmans now settled with food and drink and Kyril's expert care, Folly takes just a moment to pick up a deck of cards from one of the tables and fan it out to look at the colors, suits, and face-cards.

Then she blinks and holds her hand out, reaching for someone who isn't there, until he is.

Wordlessly, Folly squeezes Brennan's hand in thanks or reassurance, reaches over to a nearby table, and hands him a sandwich.

Celina holds up a hand to pause Tomat. "Welcome, Brennan. Did all go well? I have not heard Huon's voice yet. He may be down the hall talking to the King."

Brennan steps nimbly through the Trump connection, as though through a gateway rapidly closing. He resists the instinct to look behind him, because he knows he won't see the Shadow he just left. He is momentarily nonplussed by the appearance of Folly's sandwich, but has spent enough years in various campaigns to never turn down a hot meal when it presents itself.

And so having a mouthful of sandwich gives Brennan the opportunity to think over Celina's question instead of saying the first thing about Huon that comes to mind. Instead, he chews over the sandwich and his thoughts, before answering: "In the vernacular of such places, it should be visible from orbit just about now. Wouldn't suggest heading back for a few hours, at least, unless you're Edan."

He takes another bite of sandwich and surveys the place, before saying, "Archivists, I'm glad you're all back. Cousins, I'd love to stay for the debrief, but I need to talk to Martin and then get myself back to the Moonriders before who-knows-what they'll get up to without someone watching them."

Folly nods. "He's in the infirmary, just down the hall there," she says, gesturing to point him in the right direction. "Good luck with the Moonriders. I think we've got a family dinner tonight with our volunteer hostage. If the timeflows are such that you can't make it back, one of us will call you with updates. Particularly if they're relevant to your task. Good luck."

As Brennan departs, Folly sighs and says to Celina, "And I should probably warn my mother. Or at least come up with a task for her that will distract her from, like, smashing a lamp over Huon's head or something." She taps the deck of card in her hand against her chin as she thinks.

Celina offers, "So far it sounds like Huon did exactly what was asked. Do you want to hear variants before you call your Mother?"

For a long moment Folly looks torn about what she wants to do, exactly; but then she gives an 'aha' sort of nod, pulls her notebook out of her pocket and scribbles a hasty note:

("Mum, Huon just rescued the Rebman archivists from the Klybesians and is in the castle. Word is that he's trying to be on his best behavior, so please don't, like, smash a lamp over his head or anything. I'm in the card room if you need me.")

She pokes her head out the door to ask a page to deliver it.

"I don't have a card for her," she says to Celina by way of explanation. "But I think this will work. She might join us later; we'll see." Celina can sense that Folly still has a lot of nervous energy, but is trying to remain calm.

Folly bows her head to the Archivists. "Apologies for the interruption; I'll stay and listen, but may need to slip away if I'm needed elsewhere."

Brennan nods around another mouthful of sandwich, on the way out, in search of Martin.

Brennan walks in from another hallway at that moment. He pops the last bite of something, a sandwich probably, into his mouth, while he takes in the various people and activities in the room. He then finds a passing page-- a senior one, one used to dealing with Royals up close and personal-- and whispers something into his ear, and makes eye contact to make sure he's understood.

That done, he says into one of those momentary lulls that happen even in large well-occupied rooms: "It's done. That place is gone." If the King looks up, he gives the appropriate acknowledgement, but otherwise he's here for Martin. "Prince Martin, a word?" Evidently a private word, since Brennan hasn't moved from the doorway.

Conner looks as if he wants to speak to Brennan but Conner can tell that he is clearly on a mission. He turns his attention back to Ossian.

Martin nods, catches Jerod's eye and mouths "LATER", nods to his father, and follows Brennan.

Martin catches the returning nod. Jerod will be around.

Brennan still isn't as familiar with Castle Xanadu as a member of the Royal Family should be, so he lets the page lead them in relative silence to somewhere appropriate-- somewhere with a well-stocked bar, four or five comfortable leather chairs, low tables, and cigars and smokes if Martin wants any. (Brennan doesn't.)

It's hard to tell what Martin thinks is going on initially but he de-ices a little once it's clear he's not being taken outdoors for an immediate duel.

He doesn't say anything until he finds a good bottle of scotch, pours out two glasses, hands one to Martin and knocks the other one back himself. He brings the bottle with him as he goes to sit down. The bottle clinks as he refills the glasses.

"Hell of a day," he says, meditatively. He nurses the second glass.

"So. Small talk while we hope Edan gets back to represent Lamp-- for whatever small talk is, today-- or hash this thing out between the two of us?"

"No point in fucking around. Edan's expressed his wishes and I'll abide by them. I meant what I said, though: I'd do it again. And I don't even think under the circumstances I was wrong to do what I did. I just regret involving Edan." Martin takes another sip of the whiskey. "You're in a shit position, though. What do we need to do to make appearances work out for your people?"

"I know you did, and I know you would. I can't say it outside this room-- not for a while, yet, anyway, and possibly not ever-- but I figure you were right to do so. From what I saw a few hours ago in the gazebo, Marius has some ridiculous schoolboy crush on Vialle and wasn't thinking all with the right head. I don't spend much time in Court, but if I ask the rest of the Ruby or, perish the thought, try to get a straight answer out of the pages network, I'm going to find out that was common knowledge, aren't I?"

"Probably," Martin says. "I couldn't have told you about Vialle in particular but I could have told you he was, as we sometimes say in Rebma, a fishf**ker"

He waits for Martin to confirm or deny that, but adds, "Thing is, he's got a technical, legal case for being right, too, fat lot of good it's going to do him right now.

"But before we get into what Ruby needs, here's what I want to know: What do you want? Do you want to stop being a Knight Commander of the Card, forever? Or is this just what you think needs to happen?"

"It was a sincere offer," Martin answers. "I didn't want to half-ass it. But even if I don't put the job down officially, I'm about to delegate most of it to Folly for the next few years. I don't think Dad's going to make a fuss if I absent myself from felicity."

Martin sets down his glass and spreads his hands, palms down. "I was raised at a court where I was the bastard of a disfavored royal. It was not a pleasant experience and I have no intention of letting my daughter live that way. I didn't plan to base out of Xanadu full time until Lark was old enough to walk the Pattern. Folly wanted to be back here; it was an issue even before the thing with Vialle came up." He pauses there, looks at Brennan, frowns. "Are we not supposed to say her name? Dad's wife, that is? Anyway, I really do need to leave, and Folly really does have to stay here. If the duty is still here for me, I'll take it up again. If it's not, Folly will do a better job than I have."

"Whose, Vialle's? I hadn't really thought about it-- Elder opinion seems mixed on the Queen of Tir's name, but if we're not supposed to say 'Vialle', well, it's too late.

"And yeah, I get the need for a lengthy period of distance," Brennan says. "What I didn't know was whether-- how much-- your resignation from Card was a part of that, that you actively wanted. A permanent severing of ties, an emphatic gesture, that sort of thing. My initial reaction was the same as Fletcher's, but his reaction gave me time enough to stop and think for a few seconds. That verbal tapdance I did in there was the best I could do to throw a wrench in things, but a wrench I could yank back out if I had to.

"So: If you're good remaining in Card, I'll speak for the Ruby and waive all of the Order-to-Order, Ruby-to-Card level bullsh*t I just conjured from thin air. That'll leave whatever hypothetical challenge Marius might make on a personal level. But the way he stormed out, I don't think that's on his mind. And for something of this gravity he bloody well better get another KCOR as a second, so we can negotiate this to a reasonable level, if not out of existence."

"Given Edan's--I won't call it a vote of confidence--but given that he was clear he wanted me to stay on--" Martin considers his glass of whiskey. "--I think I addressed the seriousness of the issue between him and me and quitting the Order after that would be a further insult. Not to mention all the other problems it would call. If Marius decides to call me out, he can have his fight. If he decides to call Edan out--if there's an honorable way to do it, I'll take that fight. I was responsible, even if Edan could have said no."

"I can live with all that, if Edan can live with that," Brennan says, "but damned if I was going to let you box yourself into a corner like that without at least talking it over, so I'm glad that's settled. I don't want to stick around for Family Dinner Fun but I'll make a statement for the King before I go, if needed."

Martin makes a face that isn't hard to interpret as a fervent wish that he, too, could avoid family dinner. He downs the rest of his glass and reaches for the bottle to pour another few fingers of the stuff.

Brennan continues to nurse his drink.

"Something else I've been wanting to say for a while," he starts, and having started, evidently finds it difficult to continue. "Keeping my Sorcery hidden from everyone for so long, and then springing it when Huon showed up. It seemed like a good idea at the time, keeping an ace in the hole for when we really needed it. Wasn't that great an idea. I used your trust badly, and I'm sorry."

Martin looks up from more contemplation of his glass, eyebrows slightly up. He ponders that for a moment. "I accept your apology." A pause, and: "I'd decided I actually liked you, and that was probably, under the circumstances, a good and healthy thing. So finding out that you'd been holding back was a blow. Intellectually I understand why you did it; I've got my own set of holdouts. But I have a hard time with trusting people, not just because of your father.

"I can't just say '... water under the bridge ...' because that's not how that works and we both know it. But I see and understand that you're trying. And appreciate it."

Brennan nods, lifts his glass almost imperceptibly and sips. Not in celebration, per se, but acceptance of a new and better equilibrium. They've both said their piece; it's as settled as it's going to be for the moment.

"So what's your take on this whole Moonrider thing? The moon princess and the scuffle in Avalon, both-- any private advice before Raven and I head out?" he asks.

"They've got factions. I don't think First's goal is simply marrying Edan, though I'm not sorry she's here and considering a formal commitment to our side of, I guess, the greater family. Find out who else she's working with. We don't know enough about the political configuration of the Moonriders--or at least I don't--to do more at this point. Beyond that, I think you know the drill.

"Raven seems solid, but he's young. He's got first-order common sense. He's like Garrett: doesn't have the mileage under his belt yet to see the big picture. Nothing I think you don't know but keep it in mind when evaluating Raven's ideas," Martin says.

"It shouldn't be surprising that they have factions," Brennan says. "And yet, here we are. One thing I do know is that we need to get a really good picture of the events surrounding and preceding Jones Falls. I think it's clear that I'm not their number one defender until the question of justice for Cambina is addressed, but I've always heard it described as the Sack of Amber from our sources-- and I've asked around a lot, including Benedict. The Moonriders don't deny that it was a sack, per se, but for the one I spoke to, it clearly wasn't the most important thing that happened that day. By his telling, he and a large number of others had been trapped there from the day the others fell into the Bay until the Sack. I kept trying to mention that, but the conversation in the gazebo moved too fast.

"Speaking of which--" Brennan pulls out his pack of Trumps, thumbs the borrowed Benedict from it, and places it face down on the table, "--thanks."

"You're welcome. I need to return Edan's card to him or Paige, too, while I'm thinking of it," Martin says and starts to reach for the card on the table. Then he stops and says, "Benedict's still your best resource for anything about Jones Falls. Or Corwin."

Brennan nods. "I've spoken to Caine and Bleys, too, but not since that new piece of information. Corwin and Fiona are on the list before I talk to Benedict about it again, unless he decides he's feeling chatty and calls me first." Which they both know is not going to happen. "Fiona may or may not have fought, but she's old enough to remember. I'm going to have to read Cambina's books again, too, since I'm probably covering some of the same ground. It puts some of those odd details, like the Moonriders attacking from above, into a new context.

"You know I'm going to have to go up there, right? Preferably with Jerod, but one way or the other," Brennan says.

"Yeah, I know. I'm still angry with Corwin. If he'd let Vere go up there right afterwards we might not be in this position now, and certainly Solange and Vere wouldn't have--" Martin cuts that unproductive train of thought off and takes another sip of his drink. "We might not be in a bunch of fixes. Speaking of matters of knighthood: that's not for today but I think to fully reconcile Ruby and Card, we do, ultimately have to deal with that. Solange needs to make her own apologies when you're ready to accept them.

"Or we might be sadly remembering Vere's funeral, too," Brennan says. But he holds up a hand as he takes another sip. "Not argumentative-- I'm not taking Corwin's side or pressing his case. Everybody did what they thought was best at the time, the Family epitaph."

Another sip.

"I'll listen, when she's ready. I'll listen as generously as I can. That is a promise. I'm not exactly the poster boy for following instructions, so I sure ain't mad at her for crossing Corwin. But what she did to..." Brennan shakes his head, grimacing. "That's about the time I stopped gunning for Dara, though. When I really internalized that I'm not in Shadow anymore and other people's opinions matter.

"And what about Huon?" Brennan asks, his face darkening. "I expected him to find a way to skip bail, but apparently not."

"Maybe he's decided that other people actually matter too." It sounds like speculation, like Martin's trying it on as he says it. "Maybe figuring out he has a daughter and a granddaughter has put things into perspective. I'll be in a better place to draw conclusions about it after we negotiate visitation for Lark." Martin's tone is light, but he's not exactly kidding.

"Maybe he didn't like getting beaten down by his nephews and nieces," Brennan mutters, in a way that promises to get back to that topic later.

"Speaking of obnoxious people and relatives: we still need to find out what's going on with the person who isn't Montage. We should ask the archivists about his matriline and, if they know about it, his patriline. Someone will know who the relative who looks just like him is."

"Yeah, he needs to go on the list, right along with Vialle, for family histories. You said your next stop was Rebma, is that something you're planning to do? The fieldwork end of it would be my absolute highest priority, if it weren't for the Moonriders. Oh, and I don't actually think this is the case, but just for completeness sake: Could it be a shapeshifter? I'm dead wrong, it's not Moire and Montage, but Dara and cleph? It doesn't seem like their style or their angle, but any way to have Montage involved is going to be weird, too." Brennan shrugs-- as he said, he doesn't buy it. "On balance, I'd bet on your theory before Dara," Brennan says.

"My number one plan in Rebma is to get Lark. This dinner situation complicates it. As you'll understand, I need to absent myself from felicity for a while, and I need a milk run that I can do with Lark. I think there's a ship of Weir that needs an Amber navigator. Should be safe enough." Martin knocks on the wood of the table. "I'll ask there and mention it to the archivists before I go, and see what I can find out."

"I have to say this about Huon, though," Brennan says. "We've got enough external threats right now, that it's in all our interests to keep a lid on things. But I worry-- and I mean, I genuinely worry about this, now-- that Marius isn't going to see it that way. And if what I think happened, happened, I don't know how much heart I'll have to try and talk him off the ledge."

Brennan looks at the end of his drink and considers another one, but decides against it. "Not a lot to do there, either of us, except hope he stays away for a while and doesn't hear about Huon. I'm going to feel like a right bastard if I'm the one who has to not mention it to him."

"I can imagine how he'll feel," Martin says drily, but with a touch of humor that lightens any implied reproof. "He won't hear it from me, either. Certainly not since Huon is, technically, my father-in-law. But he knows what Dad's policy is. Didn't Dad make your father the same offer right in front of Marius? And you? Yeah, it sucks, but we're immortal and we have to get through the things that suck. Which is part of why I need to absent myself from felicity for a while--but not forever, or on bad terms. Just long enough to make sure Lark gets to grow up safely. You know, only fighting zombies and that kind of thing."

"Yeah, but then Brand had the common decency-- for once-- to force everyone's hand and get killed," Brennan says, "so it never became a running issue." There are a great many things Brennan could, and even wants to say next, but since Martin isn't the author of that policy there's not much point to it. So after a pause, he just settles on, "Not really sure how that all would have played out.

"And, yeah, I can see a bunch of reasons you need to get out of Dodge for a while. But stay in touch if you can-- you don't have to *be* here, but remember you've got friends here." He scowls, a bit, but not too fiercely, and puts down the empty glass. "All right, I need to get going, and I've got a few letters to write before I go. Edan is one, explaining what just happened here and why I did what I did in the first place. I don't think he'll mind. Some orders for the Ruby that don't concern this at all, because this is all above their pay grade. You think one for the King, about all this?"

"Yeah, seal one for Dad. There's business even Gilt doesn't necessarily need to know about there. Soren might open it but I think he's privy to all the dirty laundry anyway. As for the rest--I'm going to be doing milk runs for a while so I shouldn't be too hard to find." Martin raps on the edge of a wooden table.

"Yeah, that'll be a fun one to write," Brennan says. But probably more fun than suffering through dinner.

"I appreciate your doing this and getting me out of there."

Brennan spreads his fingers as though letting go of something. It ain't nothin', announcing in Court that he might press a claim on the King's son, and they both know it. But Brennan ain't interested in cultivating the kind of chit-counting, advantage-seeking relationships their parents always spoke of. "Run interference with the King, about my missing dinner, and we'll call it even."

Brennan stands and starts to leave the room. When he gets to the door, and before he opens it, he turns and says, "Next time we talk, though, I hope for an opinion on Plan Amber. Just your private opinion, not a binding notarized statement from the Prince of Xanadu." He opens the door. "Better days, my friend-- we all deserve some."

Fletcher has seen enough horror movies to know how this sort of thing works. The people being chased in darkened underground areas inevitably stumble or trip, slowing themselves down, even if they know the the ground well. It's the nature of the terrain to play to the pursuer's advantage. At least... That's how he wants it to work for the next minute or so.

Even if the goal is to follow them to their next way station we need to be able to follow them. He tells his companions, "I'm trying to slow them down. We need a better way to track them if we want to see where they go."

"I can do it," Edan says, "but it will need Sorcery." He's managed to find the handful of acorns he knew were stashed somewhere.

"Everything I'm coming up with that ain't changing where they're headed or catching them is easy to ditch or hide," Raven says flatly. "You got something that ain't either, then tell me when to duck and we can work out the rest after."

Fletcher's pattern work causes the fleeing Klybesians to stumble and curse, and probably keeps them from getting away.

Edan delays a few moments after Fletcher and Raven speak, letting whatever Fletcher does go first. He rubs a handful of acorns between his palms before finally opening his hands wide. Four glowing acorns streak out ahead of them, each searching for a live target.

There's a quiet, "Huh," from Raven as the acorns zip off, but she doesn't break stride. "Yep," she agrees in answer to Fletcher. "Mind the front -- I've got an eye out for side paths."

Fletcher continues running forward, intent of keeping at least one of the Klybesians in sight. To Raven he says, "Chase time it is then, until Edan says tracking is ready."

If Edan had any doubt that they'd left behind the shadow of Greenwood, it becomes clear as he realizes that the workings of Huon and others are not interfering with his sorcery. The acorns fly true towards the fleeing humans, and around the time they reach them, burst into flame. It occurs to Edan that Heckle and his friend Ygg probably won't want to hear this part of his tale.

The fleeing figures bat at the acorns, but they are clearly orbiting around them.

One of the two men stumbles and shortly the second set of acorns (and presumably the second man) keeps going. The first pair, with the man who stumbled, comes to a stop ahead. The second pair is no longer visible.

As the group races towards him, they first see him pulling at a door, then turning to face them. Facing a closed door and a dead end, he raises his hands.

"Hara'!" Edan yells, and keeps going past the man, trusting his companions to take care of him. Edan's Target is the door; he tries to wrench it open, and if that fails, he intends to blow it open down the path with Sorcery.

Raven heads for the surrendering man, grabbing him by the easiest convenient handhold and yanking him unceremoniously away from the door and Edan, since he's clearly going through the door one way or another. "Going on or staying?" she asks Fletcher.

The man cooperates with being yanked out of Edan's path, to the extent that he can. It's pretty nominal, but he at least isn't fighting.

Fletcher readies his sword and prepares for Edan to do something exciting. "Going I guess, though who knows how far. I'd rather not scatter if we can avoid it. Maybe you can arrange for us to have a local guide." He eyes Raven's prisoner.

The door does not open, and Edan casts his spell. Edan's spell is effective, and fiery, and the door rapidly ceases to function as a barrier to anything. The hallway is well-lit beyond the door, and several small fires have been lit by the explosion. At the far end of the hallway, a lone figure stands, staring at a book. He's ignoring the door and the explosion.

"Trump!" Edan calls.

It's not ideal, but it's fast. Edan throws his awareness into the fires around this figure, and sends them racing at the man's hands. The intent is to burn, injure, maybe distract. He doesn't want to throw Sorcery directly into a Trump, that couldn't go well.

Edan personally thinks it's too late anyway, because the figure ignored the explosion. So the other intent of this spell Working is to see, through his new fiery snakelike extensions, just who or what or where is in this book, or if his hunch is right, on the other end of this Trump call.

In an instant, Edan catches a glimpse of the trump, before the man steps through. If he were physically there, he could've followed, but the fire is not large enough nor is it prepared for him to traverse it.

In the book, he sees a city of gleaming steel and glass, covered in soot with bright lights shining occasionally like diamonds. It's raining, and it looks like that's just normal for this city. Edan sees occasional flares of what can only be gas flame-offs in the distance, and enough light pollution that the rain might as well be a dingy gray day. It feels industrial, like what the desert tribes thought the cities had become; decadent, dangerous, and depraved.

Raven manhandles her prisoner around until she's got a nigh-choking grip on the back of his shirt and shoves him after the others. "C'mon, 'local guide,'" she says dryly. "Try anything, and you're gonna get a lesson in why that's a bad idea."

Raven's prisoner is the model of decorum. He's not trying anything. Unlike the man who isn't a prisoner, who smiles and steps into the book with the expected rainbow coruscating glow.

Fletcher, who may some day grudgingly admit he is thankful for inheriting his father's ambidexterity, grabs a cue ball from his jacket pocket with his free hand and hurls it at the book like major league fastball.

Fletcher's throw is smooth and true and would earn him a place on any baseball or cricket team this shadow could field. The white ball hits the book, and disappears into the connection. Just before the after effects fade, he hears the monk swearing. Fletcher thinks he probably broke something. Hopefully his teeth, but probably his hand.

Edan lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "It was a place Trump. Some industrial city, I don't know it." The disdain is clear in his voice. "We have a choice. Having seen it, I can Part the Veil there."

Fletcher pauses. "There may be an advantage to keep pursuit swift, but is there a time limit on the Parting otherwise, and does it have to exactly follow the Trump? The target is in an unknown world, and we'll at least need to brace ourselves for whatever site security they have." Fletcher reaches out with his sense of the Pattern, making sure he'll be able to shift his way back to this tunnel if he needs to at a later date.

Fletcher feels confident that he could shift to this tunnel, or as confident as one ever is about shifting to a hallway. Hallways aren't as easy as oceans, skies, castles, or other significant landmarks.

"Well, we do have someone that might be able to help with that," Raven points out. "And he might even be in the mood to help, seeing as how he just got double-crossed. He'll be coming along if we're all going, anyway, because it probably ain't a good idea to just assume he'd make it back the way we came all by himself without wandering off."

The monk is aware he's being discussed. "I am looking not to be killed, and our order might be willing to bargain for my freedom. It is expected that I will cooperate with my captors." His Thari is impeccable. "As a token of my good will, I will tell you that my name is Brother Sebastian.

Edan clearly looks like he's having second thoughts. "We wouldn't have to go where the Trump led, no. It would be better done as a ritual. And with Fire. And maybe some help. My original thought was to come out at a different spot, up in the air. It won't hurt to wait to get a magic carpet ride."

"Right," Fletcher agrees. "We should make sure there's nothing more of interest here before we head back with our new friend." He enters the hallway behind the former doorway and quickly proceeds to where the Klybesian disappeared, scanning the environment for hostile activity and then looking for signs of what this area was used for.

"Agreed." Raven also heads through the doorway, towing the brother along with her, and starts looking around. "Anything else you want to tell us, Brother Sebastian? Anything hiding in here we should know about, aside from that book your buddy took?"

Fletcher and Raven don't see anything remarkable. Stone passages, slightly rough-hewn. It's not dissimilar to a catacombs, except there aren't any bodies in niches. In this part of the tunnel, at least.

There's a small door and what looks like a recessed cabinet behind it. That's probably where the book with the trump was. The corridor continues, and branches somewhere ahead. It's not really lit except by the torches brought from Under Greenwood.

Sebastian also looks around. "This will lead to the parent chapter of this outpost.There are markings on the wall where the brothers made these tunnels. This one is nearly a decade old, and leads to Monastery on Isla Cavallo." He frowns. "They may be schismatic."

Edan also frowns. "Schismatic? So, then, despite the reference to horses, the Turcopolier would not be found this way?"

"If the Turcopolier were there, it would be to righteously lead them back to the faith." He pauses. "The Turcopolier would be a last resort, and not necessarily a gentle one."

Fletcher pauses to examine the construction of the tunnel in more detail. He focuses and brings the Pattern to the front of his mind. He has traveled shadows paths before, and has made them. He looks for signs that the Pattern was used in making these tunnels, and what craftsmanship was involved in making them span across shadows.

Fletcher notes that the path is somewhat haphazard, as if it were discovered rather than constructed. It's like a vein of ore, in that it's continuous, but the tunnel was made around it, mostly in straight sections.

"This being nearly a decade old," Raven says, "is it a new place or an old place?"

"The tunnel is new. That hospital pre-dates the great war of the Gods, when the Lord of Evil threw down the brother-gods and unleashed the dark roadways upon all the between-lands."

"Ah, religious zealotry," Edan says to Sebastian, his voice carefully neutral. "Got to watch out for people like that." He turns to the others. "Someone in Xanadu will know the place I saw. Is there anything left to do here?"

"Besides decide if we're flattening this place the way I kind of suspect where we came from will be?" Raven says dryly.

Fletcher refocuses. "We don't know what's above these tunnels. Doing anything to these tunnels might require finesse." He look at Sebastian. "Please explain the markings in the tunnel."

"This is a stonemason's mark, from a brother from a town called 'Nice'. It is dated 10 years ago, or 2 years after the Dark Road. The Brother is named Anson and he is from the Monastery of Isla Caballo. The script is angular and made for stonemasons to chip into hard stone.

Edan feels as if he's seen the number system, at least, in the past. Perhaps in the distant east, when the tribes were being harassed by the coastal dwellers.

"But with that branching up there," Raven says, "it seems like the main monastery ain't the only exit. Wouldn't hurt anything to stick our heads above-ground and get a look at this place if we can, but it could just be a waste of time. You been this way before, Sebastian, or is this just all telling us how it should work if it's the normal layout so far?"

Sebastian nods at the latter. "I have never been here. I read the icons. I am not sure they have been re-integrated since the Black Roads and the End-Times Wars."

Edan reaches up, not quite touching the marks. "I have seen this number system in the Land of Peace. He glances at Raven. I can have a look up there if you think it's worth the time. I don't want to trip off any sorcerous alarms doing it."

Fletcher makes a note of the markings. "Try to get a look then. Even if it's only a view of their security it's more than we've got now. If it turns out to be anything real we can call in reinforcements."

Edan finds a few sticks of the rare wood he needs somehow on his person, and within moments there is a small bright blaze at their feet. Tendrils of smoke head upward, but disappear before they reach the ceiling.

Edan sits cross-legged, and while one hand somehow directs most of the smoke going who knows where, the other hand creates a 3-D image from the remaining smoke for them all to see.

Raven waits, watching what Edan's doing. She has loosened her grip on the monk's shirt a little, but not anywhere near enough that he'd get the mistaken impression she's going to let him go anywhere yet.

The smoke curls up and along the top of the tunnel. Eventually it reaches a hole, apparently drilled to provide breathable air and to let trapped gases escape. The smoke curls up and thins out and eventually comes up on a scrub-covered cliffside. The water and sky look like the Land of Peace, and there are ships sailing in the distance, across a calm and clear sea. They are steamers of some sort, which reminds Edan even more of home. The sun is high in the sky, and it looks like it should be bakingly hot.

Anyone looking at the smoke can see the vision.

Brother Sebastian is fascinated. He's not inclined to even look for a way to escape. He looks like he wants a notepad and a pencil.

Edan looks kind of pissed. "This is the road they took into the Land of Peace- my homeland- to influence and incite. If this is the only path, they spread out very far from this point."

Raven snorts. "Starting to think 'they spread out very far' is one of those things like 'crap rolls downhill' - pretty much just an ugly truth," she says dryly. "This is enough that somebody could get back here, aye? These tunnels and that." She gestures at the image in the smoke. "Gives us two viper's nests to take back."

The smoke dissipates.

Edan feels a mental stirring and the probing that indicates a trump contact is being attempted.

Edan lets the contact come; he looks up into empty air and asks, "Who calls?"

"It's Enana. I'm in the butler's office and we're given to understand since Brennan may have destroyed the place you'd started at, that you might want a trump back. Garrett's here to back me up if the little one starts crying and that distracts me enough to lose focus." She shrugs. "And it might. So?" She holds out a hand.

At Edan's words Fletcher pipes up again. "It would be good if we could arrange a more thorough exploration of these tunnels. If we can't bring in help to do that now we should at least be sure we can find our way back into the tunnel system."

Garrett touches Hannah's hand and joins the trump call. "How are you all doing out there?" he asks.

"I ought to be getting back either way," Raven says. "Sounded like Brennan wasn't planning to stay any longer than he had to, so if I'm going along..." She eyes Sebastian. "Besides, there's only so long that bringing this one along is gonna be useful."

Brother Sebastian nods politely.

Edan says through the Trump, "We followed a tunnel out of the hospital that went cross-shadow. We have a Brother Sebastian as prisoner. We have gone as far as the Land of Peace; Chew got away through a Trump, but I saw where he went."

His eyes lose a little focus, glancing at the others. "Raven wants to return quickly, I think, and Fletcher wants to either continue with assistance or mark our place to follow up. I will probably need to return and finish," he waves a hand, indicating the soirée in the Throne Room. "If there are those that would wish to continue...if not, I can mark this place sorcerously, but another could undo it."

"I suspect I can find this location again as well. Perhaps taking time to chat with Brother Sebastian about how these tunnels were constructed might be prudent." Fletcher eyes the Brother, not necessarily maliciously, but definitely inquisitively. "I could take time out from my other business for that."

Raven nods. "If you want to keep him, I don't mind leaving him in your custody," she offers. "Ain't keen on you being the only one of us that stays, though. Seems like this lot have too many tricks up their sleeves."

In the trump contact, Hannah says, "It looks like we have a trump of Conner we can offer Fletcher, if he wants to stay. Conner is going to be in one of the centered realms, mostly likely, in the near term."

Fletcher replies to Raven, "Oh, he definitely needs to be taken somewhere more secure. I'd be willing to delay studying these tunnel to go back with him and have a chat."

Garrett reaches out of frame, probably to get the trump sketch from Brita. He remains silent.

Edan says, "It looks like we will all come through after all. We can find this place again," and he reaches out for the tunnel group to take his hand.

Raven says, "C'mon, Brother Sebastian -- you get to visit Xanadu." And she hauls him into the call with her and goes through.

Fletcher follows Raven and Brother Sebastian through the trump.

Edan follows through after the others. Hannah's hand gets a squeeze before he lets go.

Signy finds a page in the castle that can direct her to the next little gathering of Family where she can find Brita. She quickly makes her way to the door, and knocks before stepping inside the room to join the others.

A slender woman, emerald green eyes are framed by inky black hair pulled back into a serviceable ponytail enters. Though relatively unassuming in appearance, thick wrists from a lifetime at the forge peek out from the edge of her shirtsleeves, and a plain sword is belted at her waist.

She blinks in surprise at seeing Huon in the room in front of her. "So. Um. Has anyone seen Fletcher, Edan, or Raven? They're the last ones that came through that I haven't seen yet."

"No, I haven't seen them yet here. Did anyone else?" Garrett asks.

Huon nods to Signy. "Bleys's son and the others chased two Klybesians down a tunnel along a shadow path. They are not in harm's way from Greenwood, but it would be good to check on them. Do you know where the King or the the Queen of Rebma are? I should report in."

"I could get Edan on trump but he's probably casting. Trump booth for... Raven? Has anyone done one yet?" Hannah asks.

"I have sketches of Cousin Raven but have been Unable to make a Sketch or Trump. He is Frustratingly Difficult to Capture."

Corwin, who has been standing by the open door, sticks his head in to say, "Random is, according to the pages, in the infirmary; Celina has returned and is seeing to the archivists in one of the parlors nearby. One of you should go with Hannah to get the Trump. Captain Penthelisea, we need to introduce you to the king once he's free. I think when we get the rest of the strike force back, it will be a good time."

Hannah looks very worried that the King is in her infirmary, and she's probably not concerned for his health.

"Let me perform some quick introductions," Robin says. "This is Prince Garrett of Xanadu, Prince Huon latelly in Rebma, Hannah -- my sister -- and her as yet unnamed son, Signy, and First to the Fray, Moonrider Princess and current guest of Xanadu." Robin indicates each person with a wave.

"Everyone, this is Captain Penthelisea of the Glorious Cataphract, daughter of Myrina, and envoy of Queen Thalestris of Pontus and most likely Family."

Pen bows and thanks Robin. "It's my great pleasure to make your acquaintances. I hope to get to know you better in time. I'm more soldier than diplomat so please excuse me if I fail to observe any of the local customs or protocols. I will learn. I recently had my bell rung by a massive beast about twice my size with a head like a goat and a punch like an anvil, but I'm still breathing and it's not so I win."

Hannah gives Pentheilsea the sort of sympathetic once over from across the room only a physician who hasn't got a patient can. "Welcome cousin. Let me know if I can check on your bruises later. I'm a healer and have salves. Our guest is now First to the Center, and it is a very exciting day here. Writing all this down in the baby book is going to take some time.

"I have Edan's trump with me. Shall I interrupt him?" she asks.

"Let's give it a try," Garrett answers Hannah. "If the entrance to that place was destroyed, they might need another way out."

Signy gives Pentheilsea a welcoming smile, but focuses on Hannah. "It might be good to check in, since I think that the way back is no longer an option based on what Brennan did on his way out. So far I've directly seen Jerod, Celina, Vere, Brennan, Connor, and Ossian coming through in the Infirmary, so I think that Edan, Fletcher, and Raven went off together and are hopefully all in the same space."

She pauses, and glances back at the newest member of the family, before focusing back on Huon and Hannah.

"It looks like in addition to the entire Rebman contingent, we also found three more new cousins being kept there as well."

"What were they doing to them?" Hannah asks angrily, but just as quickly waves it away. "I'll call him." She bends over and digs out the pouch she has stashed in the side of her boot. She doesn't need to flip through her meager collection of cards, his is the first one.

"My theory is that they were holding them to turn over to their superiors in an effort to curry favor and to press some pointless internecine debating point. Or else it was a sacrifice of Greenwood so they can learn how we react. But in that case, I'd've expected it to involve research they'd actually finished. In any case, I must report to the Queen. Good evening, kinsfolk. I will see you at dinner if we are here, and served at the pleasure of the King."

Huon nods, and Corwin nods back, and watches him leave.

"I'm stunned. He seems to have actually learned something somewhere." It's unclear to whom Corwin is speaking, if not himself.

Hannah remembers her manners and says to First, "We will get you back to a tour... even if I have to trade you off to Folly. Sorry."

She concentrates on Edan's card.

The contact goes through; Edan is standing in some kind of tunnel with Fletcher and Raven and someone else. If Edan has the ability to tighten the contact to himself, he's not using it. He looks like he's added some burns, some smoke damage, and a double handful of wood splinters to the symphony of dirt and filth decorating his clothes. "Who calls?" he asks.

"It's Enana. I'm in the butler's office and we're given to understand since Brennan may have destroyed the place you'd started at, that you might want a trump back. Garrett's here to back me up if the little one starts crying and that distracts me enough to lose focus." She shrugs. "And it might. So?" She holds out a hand.

Meanwhile, a page approaches Corwin and there's a brief discussion, then Corwin sticks his head in again. "Captain Penthelisea, the King would like to speak with you, if you would care to join him in the studio. This page can lead you there, if you'd care to follow her."

Garrett takes the offered hand and joins the trump conversation. "How are you all doing out there?" he asks.

Robin turns to Brita. "Shall we go to the infirmary to check on Conner and Vere?", she says.

Brita nods to Robin but turns to Garrett and Hannah. "I Have Crafted a Sketch of My Brother, if Those Still Out wish to Stay. I Do Not Know how long He will Remain in Castle Xanadu, but He will Likely be in One of Their Majesties Realities." She proffers the card with Conner's smiling visage.

Edan says through the Trump, "We followed a tunnel out of the hospital that went cross-shadow. We have a Brother Sebastian as prisoner. We have gone as far as the Land of Peace; Chew got away through a Trump, but I saw where he went." His eyes lose a little focus, glancing at the others. "Raven wants to return quickly, I think, and Fletcher wants to either continue with assistance or mark our place to follow up. I will probably need to return and finish," he waves a hand, indicating the soirée in the Throne Room. "If there are those that would wish to continue... if not, I can mark this place sorcerously, but another could undo it."

"It looks like we have a trump of Conner we can offer Fletcher, if he wants to stay. Conner is going to be in one of the centered realms, mostly likely, in the near term," Hannah says, not yet taking the other card.

Without dropping his focus on the trump contact, Garrett reaches out to Brita for the sketch of Conner. He remains silent, but ready to pass the sketch through if it's needed.

Edan says, "It looks like we will all come through after all. We can find this place again," and he reaches out for the tunnel group to take his hand.

Raven comes through, bringing with her the fourth man who was in the tunnel. She's got a solid grip on his shirt, the kind that suggests that he's not going anywhere if she has anything to say about it. "We got somewhere secure nearby to stick Brother Sebastian here?" she asks the room at large. "Pretty sure Fletcher's starting the line to ask him questions."

As if on cue, Fletcher appears having been handed through the trump. He announces to the group, "We were in an interesting tunnel network, and we should probably follow it up before very long, but we should organize a bit and have a chat with our prisoner before that. What's the arrangement for handling prisoners here?"

Garrett leaves the rest of the trump contact to Hannah and drops out to talk to Fletcher and Raven. "I can find us a secure spot. Follow me," he says, and leads the way toward the door of the very crowded office.

Edan pops in, and holds on to Hannah's hand for a second before letting go. He looks like he's ready to remain and check on both Hannah and the baby.

Hannah squeezes Edan back. Baby and bird are on the floor to her right. She sighs. It's not unhappy, exactly. "No one needs medical attention. I feel as if I've gotten in the wrong line at the commissary."

Signy notes that the last three people that she knows of have come through. "Everyone's accounted for, I need to let the King know."

She gives a brief nod of welcome to the three newcomers before slipping out the door.

Brita notes to the departing cousin and not guest as they head out, "Not Guests are to be Taken to the Red Pavillion."

She then turns to Robin. "Well, Less Exciting than it Could have been. Shall we Go Find more Adventure in The Green or Wait for Family Dinner?"

"I have a couple of chores to do before I head into the Green." Robin responds to Brita. "One of which is scheduled for after the Family dinner." Robin nods toward King Corwin. "Another of which involves some travel. But I'd love it if you and Pen could accompany me.

"In the meantime, the King has asked for Pen's presence so maybe you and me can go check on Vere and Conner?"

Brita nods. "Ah, You Mentioned That task Earlier. Yes, let us Go and See What My Brother and Your Heart are Doing."

The pages report that Vere and Conner were last seen with the archivists and will lead Brita and Robin in that direction if asked.

Hannah turns to First. "First to the Center, has Firedancer apologized to you yet?" she asks, since she has them here together.

First looks at Edan. "It was a misunderstanding. Edan ibn-Bleys owes me no debts for trespasses."

"First To The Center is very gracious, and I thank her for this," Edan says as formally as he can manage. "I had made an apology at the Steps of Tir, before both Moonriders and Family, but I regret I was both painted and ensorcelled for war and not of proper appearance for it. I was prepared to do it again."

"Hm." Hannah looks at First. "Have you apologized to Edan yet?"

First looks at Hannah, then turns to Edan. "How have I offended, that I may make amends, Sir Edan?"

Edan shakes his head. "It was, as you say, a misunderstanding. You owe me nothing.

First nods in a way that is not quite a bow. "I thank you for your grace."

She turns to Hannah. "Enana, do you see things differently than we each do?"

Hannah sighs. "I do believe it was a misunderstanding, but I don't believe the two of you are reconciled, and you should be. Are you being too polite? Acknowledging a misunderstanding is an open door to bridging a rift, but you have to step through the door. If both of you are brave enough to be vulnerable and honest, I will take this child off and be a physician, so you can do that. And if you're not, I will accept that there isn't enough trust right now for me to be pushing you like this. And I will take this child off and be a physician after which we can continue our tour." She gives First a nod that is not quite a bow, then gives Edan a quick look of challenge before bending over to begin the process of checking the lacings before putting the cradleboard back on.

Edan is silent a moment, but then looks at both Hannah and First. "There are more things that could be said. There are subjects, perhaps, each of us would not wish to speak about, such as the secrets of our realms. It is hard to know what to say, how much to say, how to say it. Fortunately, the Family has a tradition in this regard. I will answer First's questions if she will answer mine. Honestly. We trade back and forth." He catches Hannah's gaze. "It is how I know to do things, and in doing so I give the respect of an equal. But I do not know how exactly you would act as a physician while it takes place."

"By being one somewhere else. Where there are people who might need one. You can continue First's tour." She does glance at First to make sure she agrees with this. "The king has pages who will find either of you if he needs you. We hadn't gotten very far, just started to get outside to begin in the gardens."

First nods to Enana and says "Go find your patients. We'll see how we do without you. You can rest assured that we won't duel without Random's permission. I am a prisoner, after all."

She turns to Edan. "You may ask first, Son of the Sun, so that I have time to think of questions for you."

Hannah slides the cradle board on her shoulder and smiles at Edan, with just a little bit of sympathy. She turns to First. "I'll steal the first one, since mine is medically related. Have your people ever used their ability to move around in time to heal someone?"

Edan smiles and waits, interested in the answer.

First nods. "This does not count, Son of the Sun. You are next." She turns back to Enana. "Some things are harder to fix with time than others. It's not as simple as 'we will just slow the patient's personal time so that they don't bleed to death before the chirurgeon finishes with them. It is a thing I have heard of for wounded Riders to take themselves back in order to be recuperated between battles. It isn't common, because the talent isn't common."

She looks like she knows the answer to her next question. "Do you have a particular patient or treatment in mind?"

"I don't have a treatment in mind yet because all the limitations are quite.... tricky. But I do have a patient in mind. I have too many questions I'd have to follow along with, and I do need to check on people downstairs. I hope we can talk later," she tells First.

First nods, as if she expected as much. "We should arrange to have you talk to one of our actual healers. It's not my specialty. We have some experts in Ghenesh. I can send for Healer Clever-Blades if you want to guarantee his safe-passage."

"I'd have to talk to the King before I start taking medical consults with more Geneshee. Geneshee, is that proper?"

First makes a small nod. "It's complex. Ghenesh is where the Moonriders originated, but it wasn't our home, Ildathachi or an óige would also do. The first means 'People of the multicolored place' and the second means 'the young people'. But Gheneshi also works."

Hannah leaves them to it and heads to the infirmary unless she finds any injuries on the way.