InTheCorridorsOfTheQueenDelluth's rapid strides soon left Claudio behind, as he climbed the first of the two flights of stairs between the library and the cabin. Portia followed him, and soon her long-legged strides disappeared from view too. Claudio was left to make his way as best he could. By the time he came to the foot of the second staircase, he was aware of two things. One was the two burly security guards standing at the base of the stairs looking at him pleasantly, but with determination. The second was the nagging tug of a trump. Claudio paused, glared at the guards for a moment, then said in an edged tone, "If you gentlemen would excuse me." He turned toward the nearest door, hoping to find another of those small side parlors where he could take the call. And perhaps make a few of his own... There was no parlour here. The best he could do was to shield himself slightly in a doorway to take the call. And almost immediately he heard footsteps. Portia and Goran had emerged from the cabin -- which was definitively locked behind them. Claudio straightened and looked up at them. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Can I be of any help?" "Nope," Goran said, his long strides never slowing as he followed Portia toward the wheelhouse. Never mind, Claudio thought, I already know somebody wants me. He retreated down the passage until he was out of sight of the guards, then opened his mind to the Trump call. But even as he was concentrating, the boat shuddered violently. He began to feel a creeping illness ... a weakness that was accompanied by nausea and threat of a violent headache. Oh no, he thought, both alarmed and angered. You don't get me ... not again, sorry, no! He muttered a short, explosive word under his breath. The feeling of nausea subsided even as the boat steadied reassuringly. But from all around were coming cries of alarm and distress. Even with the sickness lessening, Claudio decided he'd be better for some fresh air. Calling to mind the floor plan he'd been sent as part of his introductory packet, he calculated his current location in the ship and headed for the nearest public stairway that would take him to the deck. In order to do this, however, he had to cross the main lounge -- which was full of panicking people. As he paused on the threshold, he felt someone come up behind him. "Excuse me, Signor," said a rich voice. It was Vincenzo, the head of security on the Queen. "Ah, Signor di Beneditto," Claudio acknowledged him, turning around. "I felt the need of some air... unless my presence is required elsewhere?" Vincenzo frowned and then, clearly seeing the point of Claudio's question, nodded. "Go through there," he said, pointing. "You'll find the main stairs to the third level deck." "Thank you." It was easy for Claudio to make his way through. A few other people seemed to have the same idea but most just wanted to make querulous protests to whichever member of the staff they could find. As Claudio climbed the stairs, he could hear a few patrons on the deck, exclaiming over something they could see, in the tones usually reserved for people watching a firework display in mundane Shadows (or a really flashy execution in Chaos). Under the circumstances, he had a sinking feeling that whether or not the spectators knew it, whatever they were looking at was more akin to the latter than the former. Claudio was not particularly keen on watching executions, but he quickened his pace anyway, as much as he could. Oddly, though, his first thought upon gaining the deck, and a sight of the sky, was Isn't it a little early for the moon to be full? The waning and waxing of the moon was one of the more noticeable features of the Amber skies he found so fascinating. He limped to the rail and looked out toward Amber. And he saw the strange phenomenon that had gripped the others. The curve of a vast sphere, large enough to encircle Amber itself, not fifty yards ahead of the ship. And the nearest curve could be seen clearly, for blue lightning was playing over it, crackling and flashing with an intense, brilliant energy. This, then, must be the barrier of Chaos energy that Delluth had sensed. Was it Duke Helgram's work? What was its purpose? And was the ship going to run into it? Claudio had a bad feeling about that last. He reached once more for his Trumps. Pavlo might know something. There was a long pause, and then Pavlo resolved into life. He looked tired and strained, and did not speak -- a sign he wasn't alone. But his thoughts came through clearly. ^Claudio! Where are you!^ Claudio saw no reason to conceal his whereabouts at this point. ^I'm on the 'Ramblin' Queen,' and about fifty yards from what is apparently a barrier of Logrus energy. Pavlo, what is that thing? What's it for?^ "I don't know," said Pavlo grimly. "All hell is breaking out here and in Chaos. There's a House war in the Courts, and Helgram is here, seeking to destroy Patterns. They're keeping me out of the way ... the Duke trusts no-one with the name of Barimen, no matter how long or how often we prove our loyalty to the Courts." With reason, perhaps, thought Claudio, though he shielded that thought from his brother. Barimen is about creation, not destruction. We always have been. He kept one eye on the barrier as he went on to ask Pavlo bluntly, ^Is the family in danger?^ ^Probably less immediate danger than you or I but ... yes. The distrust of our name isn't exactly going to help. Mother was talking of heading to the country Ways before it's too late. That was some hours ago -- we haven't spoken since.^ ^'Less immediate than you or I' is probably good enough,^ Claudio replied. ^In any case I can't imagine that I'd be able to do much good back home at the moment.^ He wondered bleakly if he'd be able to do much good anywhere at the moment. ^Well, keep your head down, Pavlo. I'll let you know if I hear anything further from the family,^ he said, and moved to close the contact. "Wait!" said Pavlo, and he spoke aloud. "I don't want to leave you there. Come through ... we'll ... we'll work something out." He held out his hand. Claudio's eyes went hard. "Give me a better reason than that, Pavlo. I can always Trump out of here if I need to... but I have no way to get back." Not that there mightn't be advantages, from an investigatory point of view, to being in Duke Helgram's very headquarters, but by the same token he wouldn't want to get Pavlo into trouble for bringing him there. Pavlo's hand was still held out, but something of the urgency was gone. "No reason," he said. "Except I'm finding it hard to break the habit of wanting to protect my kid brother. It's up to you, Claudio." Claudio's expression softened. "I understand. I have the same habit... which is why I have to say no. I don't want to get you in trouble, Pavlo, and I'm not sure I could resist the temptation if I were there. Stay safe." He passed his hand over the card and broke the contact. And found himself back on the Queen... The ooohs! and ahhhs! from the people gathered on the deck suggested that the light show was, in some way, still continuing. Slipping his Trump case back into his breast pocket, Claudio once more concentrated on the scene in front of him, trying to make out what was happening. The flares that had earlier both revealed the barrier and obscured what was beyond it had coalesced into a cloudy funnel of ... was that Pattern energy? It almost had to be, since it registered on his senses as neither Logrus, Trump, nor sorcery. It looked as if it was reaching for the glorious but anomalous full moon, whose light revealed... Claudio's breath caught as his upturned gaze found the will o' wisp tracery of the phantom city of Tir na Nog'th, limned in silver upon the night sky. It felt as if his soul made a single, impossible leap that would bring it to rest among those dreaming spires, and his hands gripped the rail as if to prevent his body following. He couldn't remember ever desiring something so intensely. But at the same time a double-pronged awareness of danger pierced him. That cloud across the face of the moon would blot out the city... but as long as it hung there in the moonlight, it was open to invasion. Helgram. That must be what the furor in the barracks was about. Claudio felt certain that the dark-clouded Duke would seize this opportunity to blot out Tir forever. And if the Pattern cloud was any indication, someone else had already guessed that. Yes. Send it away now, before it can be destroyed. He could see the cloud encroaching ... the fabulous stairs flickering and fading... And then it was gone, city and stairs together. The dome surrounding Amber shattered into a million glittering shards that winked out of existence in tiny flickers of rainbow light. The people on the deck applauded. Claudio didn't feel like applauding -- he felt a piercing sense of loss -- but he told himself it was for the best. And what did the shattering of the barrier mean? Was Duke Helgram defeated? He thought briefly of contacting Pavlo again, and perhaps finding an answer to that last question. However, the same objections applied now as he'd expressed to his brother a little while ago, and with even more force. If the Duke had been foiled, he would almost certainly be in a rage and perhaps looking for something -- or someone -- to vent his anger on. Now would not be the time to attract his notice to Lieutenant Pavlo Barimen. No, Claudio decided, what he needed at the moment was a little time, and privacy, and perhaps a slightly different angle on things. He drew out his Trump deck once more and shuffled out the bottom card, a Trump he'd recently made of his flat in the Artists' Quarter. He concentrated.... ...and in a rainbow shimmer, was gone from the deck of the Ramblin' Queen. (Continued in Back from the Queen) |
