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"If you prefer to finish the negotiations between Wererathe and Ishtar between us, sir." Ingrey said. "I would be pleased if we should do so now."

"Certainly," said Torren. He rose to his feet.

"If you will excuse us?" he said to Fiona and Helena.

Fiona bowed her head in acquiescence.

Helena nodded. "Of course."

"Thank you, Lady Fiona." Ingrey bowed to the wife of the Head of Ishtar. "And, it was a pleasure to meet you as well, Lady Helena."

And so Ingrey followed Torren out.

And Helena was left alone with her mother, who leaned back in her chair, half-closing her eyes.

"Mother?" Helena called to her, somewhat concerned. "Are you all right?"

Fiona opened her eyes and looked at her daughter.

"Yes," she said, and then she rose to her feet. "Yes. It was important that this ... visitor takes back the correct message to Amber. A tedious role to play—that of the broken captive. But a necessary one."

Helena stared at Fiona. "But...why? I thought you liked it here. We're treated well." Her brow furrowed. "Do you expect Mandor to rescue you after all this time? I don't think he cares, Mother."

Fiona laughed—a sudden laugh of genuine amusement.

"Oh no," she said. "I expect no hope from Mandor—just as he would never look to me to help him govern Amber. No ... we met as rivals and combatants. Our blades caught tight—and the result was you and your sister. But it was hardly the basis for a happy and stable partnership."

Helena walked over and took a chair next to her mother. "And is Torren a better match? For a happy and stable partnership, that is?"

Fiona laughed again—but there was more cynicism in it this time. "Torren is a good jailor, don't you think? He makes our captivity quite charming."

Helena blinked. She knew that her mother's freedom was restricted—and with good reason—but to have that condition extended to herself was a different perspective. Helena could go where she wanted, do what she wanted, had toured professionally as a dancer for a few years, and had spent time training at Hendrake—she certainly didn't feel captive.

And yet...and yet, here was Torren tonight forbidding her to go to Amber.

"How long is this arrangent suppose to continue?" Helena asked. "I mean, well, you're immortal and so is Torren, but surely you're not stuck here at Ishtar against your will forever, are you?"

Fiona was silent for a moment. "I imagine," she said quietly, "I will be stuck here until Torren indicates that I am no further use to Chaos—or that Chaos would be safer with me dead. Thus far I have been fortunate that he finds me interesting. I hope to continue the fascination for centuries— or until a better alternative presents itself."

"Mother!" Helena exclaimed, although she kept her voice down so it came out as more of a strangled whisper. She ran a hand over her face. "I'm sorry...it upsets me when you talk like this. My life here is so...comfortable...that I forget it's still a prison for you."

She looked up into Fiona's face. "Have you tried to escape? I know you won't tell me details, and you shouldn't, but if I can ever help... I would help, you know I would."

Fiona reached out a hand and caressed the line of Helena's jaw. "Would you? Would you really? If I yold you that Torren needed to die?"

Helena leaned into the caress, but her jaw tightened as Fiona asked her question. "And you, Mother?" she countered silkily, "What if I needed to die for you to gain your freedom? Would you kill me?"

Fiona's hand stilled and she looked full into her daughter's eyes. "I sacrificed things for you and your sister when you were a child that you cannot even begin to guess at. Now you are an adult ...

"I would ask myself one question. Who does Amber need alive more—you ... or me?"

Helena pulled back out of Fiona's reach. "Your loyalty to the cause is admirable, though I have to admit I don't fancy the idea that a place I've never been to and you haven't seen for about a century means more to you than your own daughter."

Fiona shrugged, not seemingly ruffled by Helena's accusation. "You're an infant, my sweet. A century will one day seem little more than a tedious week. And more importantly ... you've never seen Amber."

Helena smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Funny, you just told me I was an adult. The Minister-Counselor seems to think I am, for he offered me an internship—and not just any internship, but one in that fabled place that you care so much about.

"So which is it? Am I still a child and hence this offer is out-of-the-question? Or am I an adult, in which case I make the decision to stay or go? For if it's the latter, I could really use your motherly advice concerning this opportunity."

"Don't take it," said Fiona flatly. "It's a trap. You'll be seen in Amber as a Chaosian—an enemy. I've never been widely popular there myself—your father is presumably widely detested. Turning up to work at the Chaosian Embassy—it would be seen as hammering your colours to the mast with a vengeance."

She turned to look at Helena. "Or is that what you want?"

Helena shrugged. "I've been legally adopted by Torren, which provides me some security here. Though my biological father has done nothing for me, I do have blood ties to House Sawall that I could pursue.

"What do I have in Amber? Blood relations I've never met who are living in an occupied kindgom with a destroyed power source and are ruled by a drunk philanderer.

"I've never taken you for a romantic—pragmatic, hell yes, sentimental, not so much—so whose side would you throw your lot in with if you were in my shoes?"

Fiona was silent for a moment. "I'm so far out of the loop that I'd need time to acclimatise. If I were in your position, I'd listen to your uncle Bleys. He'd be the best person to advise you as to the Mandor factions and the Chaosian factions that your ... that Torren would support."

"And you trust him to have my best interests in mind?" Helena asked.

Fiona gave a sudden laugh. "I trust him to have his own best interests at heart! But ... there's always been a loyalty between us. We've saved each other's lives ... and I would care for his children as he would care for mine—in extremis."

"Well, that's comforting to know. I'll be sure to be near death if I ever approach him," Helena replied dryly. "What else can you tell me about the brothers and sisters of yours that are still in Amber?"

"Flora? Underestimated—always—by the men. Probably the cleverest of us all, and hiding it behind big blue eyes, a cloud of golden hair and a winsome pout. Whoever wins in Amber, Flora will be organising the celebratory party. And that ... is quite a talent, considering the ups and downs of our family. Study her, learn from her ... perhaps attach yourself to her skirt tails. But never, never trust her. As well as the cleverest, she is possibly also the one who'll wait, oh-so-patiently, for her revenge." She laughed again. "We were not, as you can imagine, the closest of sisters."

"Too much alike?" Helena mused. "I remember her from the trump you showed me—she was very pretty. Who else? Um...Llewella?"

"I wouldn't say Florimel and I were alike in our methods," said Fiona with a certain dryness. "Nor, perhaps, in our aims. Llewella? I believe she keeps to Rebma entirely these days. I wouldn't be surprised if that wasn't part of the deal ... "

"What exactly were the terms of your 'deal' here, Mother? I'd really like to know."

Fiona turned and smiled at her—a smile that never really reached her eyes.

"And if it breaks the conditions of my parole to tell you?"

Helena met her gaze levelly and shrugged. "I don't know what the consequences are for that, so I can't offer an opinion. But I will restate that I'd really like to know, and that I think it's important for me to know.

"If I ever go to Amber, Mandor will show me his biased good view of Chaos there, and the Amberites will show me their biased bad view." Helena's voice lowers. "By knowing the terms of your imprisonment, I'll get a truer picture of what the Choasians really think of the Amberites. This is important to me because, as much as I play the part of the Chaosian noble's daughter, I am still half-Amberite."

Fiona was silent for a long time. Then at last she gave a faint sigh, as though releasing something locked deep inside her.

"They think us dangerous. Some of us more than others. After Patternfall ... Bleys was permitted to return to Amber. I was detained. A hostage for his good behaviour, perhaps—but I don't think they would have trusted me enough to have made him hostage for my behaviour ...

"I was given the choice of whether my captivity here should be pleasant, as they saw it, or unpleasant. The Emperor had in mind a rather rigid keeper for me. One of the Lords of House Tollomy, reputed to have demon blood. That ... would not have been pleasant. Still less was the alternative—a pit diver. Exploring the Abyss for whatever flotsam could be retrieved.

"But then Torren spoke up. His efforts in the war had won him favour. And he staked that to claim me, if you like. Or to claim the role of my jailor, if you prefer."

"Why? To find favor with the Emperor for his House? I'm just trying to figure out what he gets from all of this," Helena said.

"It did not bring him into particular favour," said Fiona. "Indeed, I was widely distrusted ... and some of that spilled over to him. Others saw him as over-reaching his station in even agreeing to confine such a powerful sorceress. They waited for him to fail ... some did more than wait. They tried to inviegle me into betraying him ... And I was wild ... wild to escape, wild to get to you and your sister ... wild to save Amber ... But still I had the sense to see ... whatever I was to accomplish, I needed Torren.

"And he knew ... if he was to fulfil his ambitions ... he needed me."

Helena looked at her mother askance. "That explains why you haven't killed each other yet," she remarked, her dry tone back. "And where do I figure into all of this? I've always assumed you were allowed to keep one of us as a sort of live-in hostage against your good behavior. Is there more? And why did you choose me over Ness?"

"I didn't," said Fiona. "I couldn't. It was Torren who chose."

Helena almost looked relieved. "A random choice, then."

Fiona smiled. "Not entirely random. While Ness twisted her hair and peeped shyly at him, you walked up up to him, held out your hand and very solemnly asked after his health. He was—in the very purest sense of the word—enchanted."

Her smile faded. "With such little things are fates decided."

Helena wondered futilely what her life would've been like if she'd instead been sent to Mandor and Ness instead was here at Ishtar. Everything—yes, everything—would be different. And it had all been decided on such a small event? One that she didn't even remember?

That gave her pause. She sat back as a knot started to form in her stomach. "I wish we hadn't been split up. I miss her. Is that why you're upset, thinking about it?" she asked, referring to Fiona's faded smile.

"In a way," said Fiona. "I'm selfish enough to be glad that I was able to keep you. You could, of course, have been sent to Amber to be with Mandor—that was his first demand." She sighed. "I've never been able to decided whether he planned it as mercy or torture to allow me to keep only one of you."

Helena leaned forward and kissed Fiona on the forehead. "I'm selfish too, and I'm glad I was allowed to stay here with you. Though there's a part of me that's always felt guilty because it was me and not Ness." She sat back again, her expression wistful.

After a moment she asked, "Mother, you mentioned earlier that you and Torren needed each other for your ambitions. What are they?"

Fiona smiled. "Sweetheart, long ago, Torren and I agreed that neither of us would expose you to our agendas—until you had visited Amber. And you will visit Amber ... soon. Within a few years. And not as a drudge at the Chaosian Embassy, scurrying here and there at the bidding of the Ambassador and her henchman."

"And my fa....Mandor? When I visit Amber, what do I do about him?"

"I'd say ignore him," said Fiona. "But that would probably be dangerous. You'll do best playing the good daughter—and using Bleys to see if you can learn anything that will help you ... "

"All right...but won't I have to be near death's door to entreat Uncle Bleys's help?" she asked deadpan. "Perhaps I can arrange a mugging right beforehand..."

Fiona laughed, before her face once more grew serious. "The truth is," she said, "I have been out of those waters so long that I can't tell you how the currents are running. All I can tell you may be decades out of date. What I shall say is ... trust no-one in Amber. Not even your twin. And trust your father least of all."

"Yes, Mother." Helena frowned faintly and finished her wine.